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#he’s got a dahlia flower on his arm with a gold chain
doctorsiren · 9 months
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“This is not enough! This is not enough to prove it yet! No, I need to hit the bottom!”
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So, those Corn Bride dahlias have now inspired both some lovely art by @hoozoo and this ficlet to go along with it by yours truly. ^^
Cheers for R76 fluff! =D
Although he was doing his best to keep quiet, it still seemed to Gabriel that the echoes of his footsteps were unnaturally loud in the empty hallways of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. He hadn't been back long—still didn't even know how Jack had convinced the others to let him in, much less allow him to stay—and the place still left him restless. It hadn't settled in his mind yet, and remained feeling like a confusing mix of base, safe house, and enemy territory. He wasn't the same soldier that had led Overwatch in its earliest form during the Omnic Crisis, wasn't the same commander who had built up Blackwatch into a force to be reckoned with. Overwatch wasn't his anymore, and he stalked through the hallways like a ghost. It was three AM and he was restless. That particular combination gave him a thin thread of normalcy to cling to.
He hadn't been walking with any particular destination in mind. Hadn't expected to run into anyone, either. Overwatch wasn't supposed to exist, so they ran quiet, picked their battles. The past couple of weeks had been free of comings and goings at odd hours. His walks though the witching hour had been undisturbed.
Nearing the open door to the rec room, he saw dim light spilling into the hallway, and heard a muffled giggle. Immediately he stopped, and very nearly turned away. Then he heard the snoring.
Jack was in the rec room, too. Jack, his most solid tie to the past. Jack, who was the reason he had come back here in the first place. The reason he could come back.
He tugged his hood a little lower over his face, hunching his shoulders and tucking his hands into the pockets. Neither the explosion nor the experimental nanites had done him any favors in the looks department, and he didn't think three in the morning was a good time to sneak up on an experienced fighter while looking like a low-level enemy from a zombie shooter. He started forward again, careful this time to make a bit more noise as he walked. Nothing to worry about here; the red-eyed ghoul just couldn't sleep and came looking for his friend.
Gabriel paused in the doorway. Hana had glanced back the moment he'd appeared and just as quickly dismissed him as unimportant. A circlet of daisies and bleeding hearts sat on her hair. Lena was facing him, wearing her own crown of miniature yellow roses and baby's breath. Leaning over the arm of the couch, she grinned, flashing a V-for-victory as Hana took a photo of her next to Jack while he slept.
They had crowned Jack, as well. The corner of a lacy afghan had been draped over his head like a veil, and on top of that was a crown of medium-sized dahlias, white with pale yellow centers. It was an odd contrast: the beauty of the flowers above Jack's harsh, scarred face, relaxed by sleep and lit by soft, amber lamplight.
Hana took one more photo of Lena posing with Jack before she turned around to take shots of all three of them. Gabriel could only stare, lost suddenly in a memory.
It was the morning after Jack's official recognition as Strike Commander. There had been a press conference the previous afternoon, a meet and greet, a catered supper. Everything had been shining and new, dressed up in blue and gold and white. In the morning, the decorations were all still up; bunting around the podium, flowers on all the tables. The lawn was littered with napkins and cigarette butts and bits of paper. Gabriel found Jack sitting on the edge of the roof, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, looking down on it all with a bemused expression on his face.
“Having trouble believing it was real,” Jack said. “Feels like I drank too much and had some sort of crazy dream.” He tore his eyes away from the grounds, worry putting a crease between his brows as he looked back and up at Gabriel. “Gabe...are you sure you don't—?”
“Definitely not. You'll handle all the political bullshit better than I ever could—and there will be a load of it. Trust me. I don't have the patience for that crap.”
“That's funny, coming from the CO that chewed me out so many times for being too impulsive.”
“On the battlefield, Jackass.” He waited until Jack turned back to the grounds. “You did good down there yesterday, Jackie.”
Before coming up, he'd broken a couple of small flowers off one of the centerpieces, creamy dahlia blossoms with yellow petals at their centers. Quickly, he reached out and tucked them behind Jack's ear. Jack's hand flew up, fingertips tracing the outlines of the flowers. He looked again at Gabriel, surprise clear on his face before the expression melted into something altogether different, something warm and fond that shot directly to Gabriel's heart. Jack sat a little straighter, cheeks flushed, lips curved into a gentle smile, hair mussed by the breeze. Against the delicate blue of the early morning sky, he was the most beautiful thing Gabriel had ever seen, and the thought that he wanted to spend the rest of his life at Jack's side filled his mind. They had been sleeping together for over a year, but that was the very moment he knew for certain that he'd given his heart away.
Without pausing to consider, Gabriel pulled off his dog tags and held them out. They flashed in the sun, pulling Jack's attention back to him one more time.
“I've got you, Jack. Just keep looking forward. I'll cover your six.”
Jack didn't even hesitate. As soon as Gabriel had finished speaking, he pulled off his own tags, knocking the flowers down to the roof as he did. The tags clinked together like tiny bells as they traded and slipped the chains around their necks.
“Same here, Gabe. Always.”
The elation was almost dizzying as Gabriel bent to pick up the flowers. He tucked them behind Jack's other ear, using it as an excuse to cup his cheek, to guide him into a kiss.
In the present, Gabriel could almost feel the lingering warmth of Jack's lips against his. The memory had been painfully clear, and he took a step closer to Jack before he could help himself.
“Better wake him up,” he said quietly, reluctant to actually disturb Jack's sleep. “He'll be stiff in the morning if he stays like that.”
Hana gave him a long look and a slow smile, then got up off the couch. “He's all yours,” she said in passing.
“Night, luv,” Lena whispered as she darted past.
Gabriel listened to their footsteps retreating down the hall, then pushed his hood back to reveal more of his face. He crossed the room to stand over the couch, looking down at his old lover. Jack didn't so much as stir until Gabriel settled in at his side. He grumbled slightly as his sleep was disturbed, and shifted a bit closer.
“Gabe?”
“Wake up, old man. You picked the wrong place to doze off.”
Jack snorted, but he opened his eyes. Half-lidded, his irises were the dark blue of twilight in the dim light.
“Neck hurts,” he grumbled. As he hauled himself upright from where he'd been slumped into the cushions, the flower crown fell to the floor at his feet. “What the hell? Why is this...?” He pushed away the afghan and bent forward to pick up the crown.
“The girls were having some fun with you. Must've been pretty far gone if they were able to make that without waking you up.”
“I made it,” Jack said automatically. “Went into town with them earlier, and they stopped by a flower shop. Said the base could use some brightening up.” He gestured to a table mostly hidden in the shadow of a far corner. Gabriel could make out several potted plants of various shapes.
“And the crown?”
“I might have let slip that I used to make them for my kid sisters. Hana didn't believe me, so of course I had to prove it.”
Gabriel took the crown of dahlias from Jack's hands, turning it over and examining it. Floral wire was braided around and through the thick stems, and he arched a brow.
“Did you put such careful craftsmanship into the ones you used to make for your sisters?”
“I told them these wouldn't work well, but they insisted.” He took the crown back and held it carefully as he toyed with the petals. “This variety's called Corn Bride,” he admitted in a small voice.
There was complete silence for just a second, then Gabriel snorted. He tried to hold back the laughter, he really did, but he shook with it, and that was impossible to hide with Jack pressed close against him on the old couch.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He dug an elbow into Gabriel's ribs, but amusement warmed his words. “Actually,” he said slowly, “they reminded me....”
When Gabriel looked over, he was struck momentarily dumb. That same smile from so many years ago curved Jack's scarred lips, the same faint blush spread across his weathered cheeks, the same affection brightened his tired eyes. The lamplight gilded hair gone white with age, and for a moment—for just one precious, bittersweet moment—Gabriel felt as if the intervening years had fallen away, as if they were young again, dedicated to each other and blind to what would come between them.
Reflexively, he reached out to stroke the backs of his fingers down Jack's cheek. The sight of his own discolored skin broke the spell, left him light-headed but firmly grounded in reality. It meant the world to him when Jack leaned into his touch, letting his eyes slide shut and placing the lightest of kisses against Gabriel's fingers.
“I kept them safe,” Jack murmured. He held the flowers close with one hand, and lifted the other to press against his chest near his heart. Gabriel mirrored the motion, feeling the outlines of the dog tags bearing Jack's name beneath his hoodie, against his skin. “Stupid of me, maybe, but I couldn't let go of them. Couldn't give up.”
Gabriel laughed softly and tugged until Jack was leaning against his chest. “Not that stupid. Here we are, after all. Together again. Members of Overwatch, even.”
Jack snorted and slugged him lightly in the stomach. He was still tired, and let Gabriel maneuver them into a more comfortable position, laying back on the couch and pulling Jack along atop himself. He caressed Jack's cheek and let his hand keep going down to his shoulder, along his arm, tugging at his wrist until his hand was wrapped around Jack's, around the dahlias. He took the crown from Jack's unresisting fingers and settled it on his hair. Such a strange, bittersweet contrast. Jack smiled at him, eyes soft in the way of a man who knows loss and knows he's luckier than he has any right to be.
Gabriel cupped Jack's face in his hands, urging him just that little bit closer for a kiss. It was brief, chaste, and Gabriel felt Jack shiver as he let his head fall back. He took a moment to drink in the sight of Jack's face; eyes closed and lips barely parted, scarred and aged and wrinkled and still somehow the best thing Gabriel had ever seen.
“We never set a date,” Gabriel murmured. He stretched up to kiss Jack again. The sweetness constricted around his heart, stung in the corners of his eyes.
“Do you still want to?” Jack tilted his head for another kiss, tongue flicking across Gabriel's lips before he pulled back.
“Do you?” He surged up, arms slipping around Jack's shoulders to pull him down, hold him close, never let him go. Jack's mouth was pliant over his, lips thin and chapped, gouged by the scar.
“I do.” Jack mumbled the words into the kiss, a promise, a wish, a coin tossed into a fountain. They shone with hope and were swallowed up, a new, warm memory to be treasured.
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