Movie Night V: This Time It's Personal

[unrecovered]

Who: Wash and anyone who wants to join
What: Movie night!
Where: The same lounge movie nights have always been in.
When: Several days after Through the Looking Glass and The Spies Who Sprocked Us
Warnings/Notes: WE'RE FINALLY WATCHING SCREAM Y'ALL

For once, it's been a fairly good week. For once, nobody is dead or dying or severely traumatized. It might actually be a good time to introduce horror movies to people, and for Wash to make good on a months-old promise.

He's finally showing Scream.

The customary snack and drink tables are set up, with a bit more open space now that he's realized people are willing to contribute to them. Chairs and cushions and couches are arranged for easy viewing of the projector screen, with stacks of blankets and pillows within reach. Outside the door is a sign with the movie's title, MPAA rating, and a brief summary, along with a pair of notes added: This movie is meant to be scary, and it IS violent, along with the usual Movie night is neutral territory.

Comments

[zippity]

"Well, before I showed up here, I thought both of you were dead," she offers, freely, without masking the bitterness on her tongue. She might have been nervous, but if there's one thing she doesn't need to censor, it was the fact that she had respected her Commanders enough to expect that they wouldn't have pulled this charade on them. "So he has no reason to share."

She's not sure Jack even trusts her enough to share the conversations he's had with his old partner, and she isn't sure she wants to hear them. Truthfully, its none of her business. They had a lot of history she'd never know about.

Still, hearing that Reyes hadn't had it out for Overwatch, at least initially, soothes her some.

"I didn't think so," is her reply, which is honest enough. She didn't entirely believe it wasn't at least partially an inside job, but she'd always thought his skirting of the rules was all done in the best interests of the organization, even if it was...reckless, and probably ultimately got them shut down. "--or, I guess, I didn't want to think so."

[fantasmaniac]

If he were to voice his opinions freely, then he'd say that it would've been much better were he dead. Not out of some well-deserved despair or anything, but simply because he won't stop until he finishes what he set out to do. Being unable to die made this all the more exhausting, but Reyes was never the type to complain about a good, challenging mission. As for Jack's reasons for not sharing, well... that's reasonable. It's not like he knew the guy to share information needlessly anyway.

So he just lets out a low, grating hum, looking out around the room to resume his people watching.

"Doesn't change the fact that we had it coming. A rude but necessary wake-up call."

At least, for himself. Can't say much for the rest of Overwatch, still sleeping, ignoring the call that he'd so clearly heard and experienced, searing him to the bone. He isn't always happy with his arrangement per se, as idle times between missions sometimes found him mulling and musing and thinking too damn much. Only accompanied by the horrible stinging of his skin, the crackling in his ears as his essence dissolved and rebuilt themselves. A silver lining was putting it way too optimistically. It did tell him one thing, though:

You can't get shit done just waiting for permission.

[zippity]

Lena's eyes blink behind her goggles, which she had yet to remove (alongside her little hat) since arriving. What he says doesn't quite resonate -- maybe because she didn't know what was going on behind the scenes, only that Blackwatch had been suspended not long after some activity. Unauthorized?

Somehow, she doesn't think that's what he means -- or maybe it is. He's hard to figure out, but if there's one thing she is certain of, its that Commander Reyes wasn't one to regret doing things that others felt might have been unsavory.

"So its 'we' now?" she asks, still staring at him in spite of the fact that he's chosen to look away from her. Whether 'we' meant all of Overwatch, Blackwatch, or just Jack and himself -- it doesn't matter. For all the answers she's gotten, she somehow feels even more confused.

He's working for Talon now, and alongside Widowmaker and other criminals. He'd nearly killed her and Winston over the locations of ex-Overwatch agents, and over the Doomfist gauntlet. That should be enough to make her forget about the whole thing and do what she had to do, right?

[fantasmaniac]

He'd say yes. Yes it should be enough to make her forget and do what she had to do. He'd be a touch disappointed if Tracer would even believe for a second that he's going to receive some form of redemption.

He grunts, like he just caught himself uttering a stupid mistake, doesn't dare make eye contact with her as she continues to bore a hole into his head.

"Was."

It's hard referring back to what'd happened back then without including himself in the mix, being so deeply ingrained in the events that had occurred. Not 'we' anymore, but it certainly was back then, even up to the last minute before the explosion. Even then, he'd been fighting Jack for a reason, one he thought was important. Still thought were important. Just on a completely different level and scale.

"Anymore questions?"

[zippity]

Lena is silent for a time. In truth, she'd gotten more answers than she'd wanted, or thought we was going to get. And if she had to be honest, it wasn't so much that she believed he wanted or was even capable of receiving some sort of redemption. But that doesn't mean that she can snuff out the part of her that wants it for him.

Mostly, she wants things to go back to how they used to be. They hadn't been all that friendly, but they'd been cordial. People seemed -- happier. The times were simpler.

But Lena is older now. Some of those happy memories, tainted by hindsight.

"...yeah. Loads," she admits, pushing herself to a stand. "I'll save 'em for when we're in the field together." Just to annoy the piss out of him, or maybe to make a point. Either way, she gets to the business of dusting herself off and turning to take her leave.

"Cheers."

[fantasmaniac]

It's a subtle motion but he's shaking his head slightly as she moves to stand. Once the cat was out of the bag, he assumed something like that would happen. Thanks, Jack. Now he's got the Overwatch poster child ready to quip at him during missions where he would've originally enjoyed either the terse response every once in a while or silence from her.

But in all seriousness, he's not sure where this leaves him now. The more he 'mingles' with them, the more he remembers, and he can't help but feel a dull sting as a result of all this. Fighting her and the monkey was no problem, he could compartmentalize when in the heat of the battle, but like this? It's hard to forget that sickening idealism that she'd stood for...continues to stand for. It's almost impressive, despite all they'd faced and lived through.

Without so much as a shrug of his shoulders, he folds his arms across his chest as she leaves to... go back to Sombra. Ugh, if his intuitions are telling him anything, it's that this is going to get messy.