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[Well, this is unexpected.]

about what

A request. I am currently in the mess hall, but will go to wherever you choose.

be there soon

[And he is, albeit cautiously, because he still doesn't really know what she wants from him.]

[What he would find was Widowmaker sitting alone at a table in a corner. She was dressed casually, like she was either going to head to a workout or just came from one, long hair down her back in a very loose braid, and no visor or any visible weaponry. A small tote bag was on the floor next to her chair and she had a large mug of hot chocolate before her.

Omnicom on the table before her, she had a holographic screen down on the table where she was playing Candy Crush. Level 94 from the looks of it. And as her fingers moved over the screen, her other hand toyed with something on a chain hanging about her neck.

Aside from the blue skin and the unnerving cool gaze, she almost looked human as she waited.]

[Of all things, Wash zeroes in on the tote bag. That's an unknown quantity, and he doesn't want to be near it.]

[So he sits across from her, like this is a casual meeting - which it may damn well be, he has no idea - but keeps his helmet on. Can't do anything about potential psychics in the area, but he can put off the lip-readers.]

[A request could mean anything, especially coming from the last standing member of Talon in the Legion.]

You called?

[She briefly glanced up when he sat down before pausing her game.] Thank you for joining me, though I would prefer to speak with you instead of a suit of armor.

[Picking up her mug, she took a sip and sighed disappointingly.] I do not care what they say, vegan chocolate isn't nearly as good as real chocolate.

[Not a movement was made toward the tote bag. It may as well not even exist to Widowmaker for all she pays attention to it.]

That's nice.

[He's not about to be baited, especially by such a half-assed effort.]

What do you want?

[She looked at him expectantly for a few long seconds, before setting her mug down with a sigh. For gods sake, they were in a public place. What the hell does he need to be in his armor for?

Fine. She'll let him be rude. It wasn't important in the end anyway.]

When I first arrived here, Sombra made it a point to poke fun at Reaper and me for something we both ended up having happen. I didn't bother asking for details or even think much about it. At least, not until after this last mission of mine. [It made her do a lot of thinking. There was a slight tensing in her hand holding the mug before she let go, folding her hands loosely on the table before her.]

Could I have Reaper's gun back? S'il vous plaît.

Edited (I can type, I swear) 2017-10-15 02:55 (UTC)

[He's on call and practically lives in his armor regardless. Plus, Parker had once pointed out the possibility of lip readers - depending on how this conversation goes, he might be grateful for the extra layer of security.]

[Admittedly, this is not a direction he was expecting.]

What did Sombra say to you, and why do you want it back?

That both of us had our weapons taken or stolen from us - I don't recall her exact wording. Mostly she gloated about how no one had taken her submachine gun. There was a brief conversation about getting Reaper's gun back from you using the same method I got Widow's Kiss back, but Reaper was unwilling to pursue that option.

As for why I want it... [She paused, an expression crossing her face that made her look as though she smelled something unpleasant. Her eyes shifted from the mirrored visor of Wash's helmet upward toward the overhead lights for a moment, before she gave another sigh. It was so irritating that he was going to make her say it.]

...sentimentality.

[That.]

[Huh.]

[...wow.]

[Normally he'd have a quick answer to this request, but now he wants to see where this is going.]

Never took you for the sentimental type.

Neither did I. [She is clearly not happy about that.] But I am alone... and I. [Ugh.]
Miss them.

[This could be an act.]

[But if it is, it's a damn good one. For now, he's erring on the side of compassion.]

Are you okay?

[It's an actual, genuine question.]

[There was an actual twitch in her jaw muscle at that question. This was fucking embarrassing. She didn't even want to admit to the one person that liked her in this damn place that she wasn't okay; she sure as fuck didn't want to--

She curled her fingers into her hand, pressing the edges of her nails into her palm.]

I am not answering that.

[Most of this conversation has been a surprise to Wash. That response in particular is the one thing that has not.]

[So he leans back a bit and takes a moment to think. Might as well be honest - it seems like Widowmaker is, though he doesn't know her well enough to judge that for sure.]

[Sombra would know. Sombra's also not here anymore.]

I'm going to level with you: I'm not inclined to give it back. It's...a reminder. [Less of Edgelord McHotTopic and more of the lesson he'd learned the hard way the first time he'd tangled with Ghostface Lite.] Which I guess makes it sentimentality on my part too, though I'm guessing not the same as yours.

Look, we don't know each other that well, but from what I can tell, this isn't like you. Given the only two people who really know you from back home have left...well, I'm a little worried.

[Partially because having the stone-cold assassin on your team go off-kilter is a goddamn terrifying prospect, and partially because he can't fucking help it. Widowmaker is part of his team, whether she chooses to act like it or not, and that's enough for Wash to be concerned about her, if only a little.]

Sombra's stuff is everywhere and we will be finding pieces randomly for months, but that gun is the only thing left of Reaper. What meager possessions he had were packed up with him when he went chasing ghosts.

[She wasn't going to beg for it back. That was her last attempt to persuade him. And whereas she wasn't going to go into the meat of her current state of being Not Okay, she would at least somewhat address his concerns.]

What would you do, Agent Washington, if you were trapped in a place where no one wanted you, you could not do the one thing you are good at that has been your purpose for close to a decade, and the two people who understood you and, more importantly, why you are the way you are have been taken away from you likely never to return?

Oh, and a power you cannot turn off makes it impossible to have remotely close to a normal emotional response to any of that. Do not worry; I have taken myself off active duty.

There is always his part of the hab deck. [Shrug.] It's not like they're hard up for space, so they tend not to clear those out.

[Not that he's gone to check on the chalk outline garbage fire party that was Reaper's hab, but the philosophy had held true for just about everyone else who'd left.]

[As for the rest of it...]

I don't think you know this, but when I first arrived here about, oh, eight months ago [Holy shit it's been that long], the only other person here from my dimension was Grif, and thanks to timeline bullshit, he was from a point before we'd met. I was a soldier, pulled straight from the last battle of a war that turned out to have been a genocide in disguise the whole time, in a different dimension where my usual MO was frowned upon at best and the one person who should have known me didn't.

So I made some fucking friends, and I have a hard time believing you haven't done the same. [There's dozens of Legionnaires on the ship; he refuses to believe that she only ever talked to Reaper and Tracer, especially given the stir she'd caused when she'd first arrived.] It's not the same as the people who know you inside and out, but it's better than nothing.

And if you want the chance to have a normal emotional response, I can give you that. [For a whole two minutes, sure, but the offer's still on the table.]

[Widowmaker had a lot she could say, despite there being some truth in what he said (her mind specifically drifting to a certain elf) but all that was completely derailed at the 'offer' Wash made.

She went completely still, not even breathing, and her eyes went wide. It was the closest look to fear that could possibly pass over her countenance. The idea of having her Apathy nullified when compared to the sheer amount of years of emotional baggage she hadn't been capable of process built up... with the worst month of her existence recently relived on her mission infiltrating the Catastrophists was more than she could handle right then.

The only reason she has been functioning was because she couldn't actually feel any of it. She could remember how it used to feel... and she didn't want to feel it again. Certainly not in front of Washington.

So, without a word, Widowmaker got up, grabbing her omnicomm at the same time, and just walked away. Her game of Candy Crush was still paused on the table, her gym bag on the chair, half-drank cup of hot chocolate left behind in her wake.]

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