almightythirst | Deerington Inbox

giving you ample opportunity to practice using the presents i bought you is totally part of the gift, i'm being generous!!!

[Some time after this conversation happens.]

Why did you agree to my blackmailing you? Were you actually not certain that I couldn't stay my hand from killing someone? Would you prefer that I nix the promise and go? I notice you don't like looking at my face much. I can imagine it brings up a mix of emotions, most of which aren't something you care to deal with.

[ Uh-oh. There's not many ways Reaper could have learned that information, and he thinks he knows how he did based on the tone. Jesse grimaces at the mention of the man's face, takes a deep, fortifying breath, and types out his reply. ]

Honest answer? I think you could've stayed your hand. I wasn't sure if you would.

Even so, I wouldn't prefer that. I owe this to you for more reasons than a promise, and I'm not about to back out of it now. You're stuck with me old man, like it or not.

[Reaper had a lot to think about at any given moment, plenty of information to digest, and he desperately disliked not knowing. It also forced him to go a bit more directly looking for answers to his questions, which could feel uncomfortable if he wasn't at a point where he had little, if any shame.]

And, no doubt, you also weren't certain that she could kill me before I did her. So you took a bad deal, one that probably causes some resentment if your relationship. Your motivations are confusing. You want to stay in a bad deal. What are you guilty about?

Hey now, I earned any resentment I've got from Ashe. Fair and square and on my own. You don't get to take credit for it.

[ That, at least, is true. ]

If that's a conversation we're going to have, we'd best not do it over text.

[ He's not looking forward to it at all regardless of the method of communication, but still. This was bound to happen eventually. Reaper is inquisitive by nature, moreso than Jesse ever really realized. Reyes and Reaper had both known so much, more than they probably had a right to, so seeing them starved for information had been incredibly rare. To be in the dark now and left with that impulse to know must be driving Reaper up the wall. Or so Jesse imagines, anyway. ]

You home now?

[ Might as well get it over with. ]

Her resentment seems easy to obtained. I have a gift for it, and apparently so do you. Yet she likes you and hates me. I must have really pulled her braids at some point.

[That was a rather serious answer, one that came with a weight he wasn't certain that he liked particularly much. At the same time, it was a sort of weight of words that was familiar in a bone-deep kind of way. Gathering all the secretive information, holding it close, letting the weight of it settle across his shoulders.

He needed information like he thought he needed to draw breath. Curiosity was a deep pull to his every decision. He needed to know. The lack of memory felt worse for him than it did for Vira whom he had spoken about it.]

I'm not back at the dilapidated graveyard, no. I am at your old farm. Come as you will. I'm not going anywhere.

I think you two might be like cats and dogs: couldn't get along if you tried. But it is complicated besides.

[ At least they aren't actively trying to kill one another. It's progress. ]

Alright then, I'll come on over. If you didn't already drink up all the liquor, leave some out for me.

[ He'll need it. ]

Perhaps.

[Based on the conversations that he had reviewed, he thought it was something far deeper, far more complex. There was a reason for everything.

He didn't bother to reply to the last part, instead puttering off to find and bring out all the alcohol that he had come across in the house. And he had found much of it, whatever Jesse had stashed in the place and left behind. Reaper had checked and explored every nook and cranny in the place, found any and all secret compartments and false drawers or walls. He needed something to occupy himself.

And yes, he would be something like respectful and put on clothing too. Loose pants and a hoodie were his choices, the weather not at all affecting his choices. He had discovered early that he wasn't much bothered by heat or cold unless it was extreme. The sleeves were drawn up to his elbows and his long white hair was tied back in a neat ponytail.

Olivia was basking in a sun beam on the front porch, and the moment that Jesse appeared, she would beat her tail against the porch and then rose. She shook herself off and offered a soft welcoming sort of 'awooo, wooo, wooo' before pawing open the screen door to announce that someone was coming.

The scent of baking should probably indicate where Reaper was stationed. He was scrolling through his phone, clean drying dishes at his elbow.]

Brownies will be out of the oven in three minutes. You can have one in about fifteen when you won't burn your fool mouth off. [And evidence of his activities would be obvious in the kitchen. Containers filled with baked goods, mostly cookies of various kinds. It wasn't like he slept.]

Olivia!

[ Jesse greets the dog with a friendly tussle at the door, more bully-rubs and head-scritches than a real fight. He’s grown pretty fond of her here lately, and his preternatural abilities have only made it easier to communicate with her about his role in all this. He’s here to help, regardless of whatever tension had existed between him and Reaper before.

And if that hadn’t been clear enough, the smell of baked goods from the kitchen more than confirms it. Jesse follows the scent inside, more than a little flabbergasted at the prospect of brownies. From Reaper. Homemade, even. ]

Fifteen, huh? Can’t we make it ten? Don’t want ‘em cold.

[ His eyes roam the room, and he lets out a low whistle at the frankly ridiculous amount of things scattered about. ]

There a bake sale happenin’ that I don’t know about?

[Reaper - no Gabriel Reyes - had come to tolerate Olivia on a more personable level, and even if he couldn't find sleep for the constant pain that coursed through him, she found rest lazing on the bed. It didn't seem like a place he would normally go, but she seemed to have taken to it. He might even let her laze across his legs.

Slowly he dropped his phone to his side and looked over at McCree, knowing this wasn't entirely a pleasantry call.]

Impatient. In fifteen, I could make some ice cream to go with it.

[He glanced down as Olivia came over and seated herself next to his legs, giving the both of them a rather expectant look. He nudged at her, and she leaned in against him.]

No. Passing the time. This feels... better.

You’re turnin’ out to be a real homebody. Not a bad thing, really.

[ It isn’t a pleasant social call, that much is true—but even knowing that, Jesse could almost fool himself. This rapport isn’t like what he had with Reyes back in the day, but it’s far from his antagonistic relationship with Reaper. It’s kind of nice. He hopes it’ll survive the conversation they’re about to have. ]

So.

[ He pauses, the one word hanging in the air. Then he gestures to one of the chairs at he kitchen table. ]

Suppose I should settle in. This could take a little while to explain all the way through.

It's not as if I can leave here much.

[He gestured at his face, at the burn scars that marked him and made him easily identifiable. He had enough good sense that way, so he sequestered until it was dark. Then he could wander with a hood on. Some memory had surfaced about precaution and little else.

He remained near the stove, leaning on the counter edge as he watched McCree settle in. He imagined their conversation was important, since it had drawn the younger man back here quickly. The gravity of it wouldn't be known to him for a few months yet.]

Your alcohol is in the fridge cooling. Figured you'd need it for this, as the conversation appears to be heavy.

Killing was part of the world that Ashe had chosen to live in. She’d killed and she’d had her people killed; some had even come close to killing her. Ashe didn’t go out of her way to kill and she preferred to avoid it; too much hassle. But that didn’t mean she was at all squeamish about getting blood on her hands.

In Deerington, many of her kills had been due to necessity and self defense. She hadn’t shot any of the other sleepers. That night she’d stuck to her M.O. which was townsfolk, but this had been in cold blood. Naturally, she’d been concerned about the cats, but she’d been careful in her execution. With a little bit of research and Chloe’s help, she’d been able to track down the townsfolk that had hurt her and she’d sent them a message, with her gun.

Murder could be a bloody act depending on the method and she’d made her way home in the dark, still sporting the stains of her exploits. It was late when she finally entered her home and turned to B.O.B. who was behind her. “Why don’t you go shut off for a bit, I’m gonna shower and go to bed.”

The omnic placed his hand on her shoulder and she was warmed by the look she knew was filled with compassion. Patting him on the hand she nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.” They bid each other goodnight and Ashe made her way towards the master suite that she now shared with Jesse.

Though the weight of the evening was heavy on her mind, seeing Jesse stretched out was a soothing image and all she wanted was to clean up her body and shake off the feelings that turned uncomfortably inside of her. Deerington made her less sure of so many things, and this was the first time she’d taken so much action in cold blood. Necessary maybe but not the enjoyable endeavour she often pretended it was.

She hoped Jesse wouldn’t wake and bring on questions she wasn’t sure she could answer. She even wonders if he’d be disappointed in her, or worse angry. With Reaper, she’d held back, but she couldn’t with the townsfolk, not this time. Turning the handle, she waits for the water to warm while leaning on the edge of the sink. Her eyes catch sight of her reflection and she cringes. Blood was streaked on her clothes, and spotted on her skin in a splashed pattern, evidence of the chaos of her attack. Ashe had years of blood on her hands and it hadn’t always been so easy to tolerate or move on from. She had gone into a world that was traumatizing in it’s kill or be killed mindset and it had been long enough since the last time she’d kill with such little mercy, that it filled her with a sense of fear, like a noose wrapping around her neck that would never let go.

She was so lost in trauma of her past that she didn’t even realize the sink had filled up and was threatening to overflow. All she could see was the reflection of a tired woman who didn’t know if she could be anything other than destructive. It was hard to even believe the face she saw was her own. In the late hour, with no sleep, it would take her a bit to compartmentalize the trauma the night had brought up and reorganize her thoughts to see it as simply another well deserved kill under her obscured definition of justice.

Despite Ashe’s hopes, Jesse is already half-awake when she walks into the room. He knows something is off even without his wits completely about him—call it intuition, or just well-honed instinct. She hadn’t been in bed. She’d gone straight to the bathroom. They’re small things, but they add up. It isn’t until she’s in the other room that he sits up and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he’s quiet as he slips out bed and follows her, his footsteps nearly inaudible on the floor. He isn’t really even intending to be sneaky about it. It’s just the way he reacts to these kinds of circumstances, like a reflex. 99% of the time it’s false positive anyway, and Ashe had just come in from smoking outside or finishing up some work out at her office when she comes back in late.

Clearly, this time is very different.

The scene hits him in its entirety at once, and the pang of panic he feels at the sight of her covered in blood almost throws him completely. But he manages to keep it together long enough to realize she doesn’t seem hurt. If anything, she’s distracted. Out of it. Though even if it’s not her blood, that poses a whole other problem.

He comes right up behind her, one hand resting on the counter in front of them while the other reaches around to turn off the water just before it’s set to overflow. There’s no denying the worry in his expression, but he’s not overcome with it. His eyes are serious as they seek hers out in the mirror. Questioning. Concerned.

“Ashe… what did you do?”

For a moment she's transported back to another time when they'd come out of a fight with their first casualties. Killing a man for the first time wasn't something you soon forgot and it had cost her a certain piece of herself that she wasn't sure she had wanted to give. He'd stood behind her then while they tried to figure it out, but the faces looking back in the mirror this time are older. They carry more weight now and she's long since numbed herself to the realities of her chosen life. It's a life that she's sure will doom her to Hell, but she's gonna own her hand rather than fold to it.

Finally she blinks a couple of times as the present catches up to her and she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. The vulnerability in her eyes is battling with the coldness that wants to take over.

She's okay. "I'm okay." She dips her hands into the water and watches as the water absorbs the blood into it in clouds of red. Then she wipes her hands on her blouse, it's too late to care. She catches his eyes in the mirror, because she's not sure she can look him dead on.

"Same thing I always do when things get out of hand; I sent a message." Reaching for a washcloth she dips that into the water and takes it to her face, she really needs to just climb into the shower. "Went after those people who were beatin' up on Chloe outside the garage. I've had enough of that and we can't rely on those damn cats to actually uphold the law. Took it into my own hands. Didn't want you to get you involved." After all, he seemed to be trying so hard to keep himself clean of that kind of thing.

Jesse’s frown deepens as she explains the situation, the well-worn creases around his eyes becoming more pronounced. It’s true that they’re not young anymore, but some things don’t get easier with time. They might not hit the same, might not have the same weight, but they become complex in new ways. Killing is one such thing. Even if justified, he knows what it can take out of a person.

“Those cats might not uphold the law when it matters, but they could still catch you at this and tear you apart. Did you think about that?” Plenty of Sleepers over the years have been killed by those cats for their actions, fair and unfair alike. The thought that he could have lost her tonight without even knowing… he’s not the least bit tired anymore, not with the adrenaline running high through his system.

“You should have told me.” His tone brooks no argument, and neither does his expression as he watches her in the mirror. “You could’ve died tonight Ashe, and I wouldn’t have even known where you were at. If somethin’ had gone wrong or they’d fought back harder than you expected, what were you gonna do then?”

When her anger got the better of her, she was hard to stop. Though she'd been fighting and changing some habits here, others just couldn't be erased. The days that had followed Chloe's attack had not eased her temper but only fueled her forward. This was something that she couldn't let stand and she wanted to send the message that she was off limits.

She closes her eyes when he starts to scold her for the decisions and her apparent lack of judgment. This was something she did know how to face, an argument with Jesse. It was familiar and despite that she was having her faults pointed out to her it felt safe and real.

Turning to him she grits her teeth. "I thought about those things, but give me some credit, I know how to work around the cats. If you make too much noise or draw attention to yourself they pick up on it, I did neither of those things. I made it quick and covered my tracks." It had been quick, they'd woken with her hand over their mouths and the look of fear made her smile, she was so tired of living at their mercy. Then taking a sharp knife, she silently slit their throats, messier but quieter than a shotgun.

“All it takes is one of ‘em spottin’ you at the wrong time. One.”

Even with his hair mussed by sleep and his wrinkled t-shirt, there’s nothing else sleepy about him. Nothing else soft or willing to bend, at least not for a few moments. When he does let out a sigh, it’s a terse huff of air. His touch is gentle though as he reaches out to rub at a bit of smeared blood on her cheek with his thumb.

“I thought we weren’t keepin’ secrets anymore. You sneakin’ out to go on a killin’ spree without sayin’ a word about it seems like a damn big secret to me.”

He wants to push that further, but instead he opts to step back and turn towards the shower. He knows if it were him—and he’s been similar positions often enough—he’d want to wash the blood and the rest of the night on him first thing. He’ll extend the same option to her, even if his movements are a little sharp and his jaw is still set in that way that shows he’s mad.

Ashe hadn't realized she had been gritting her teeth and it takes physical effort to relax her jaw and take what he is saying into consideration. He's not wrong, it did only take one mistake, and perhaps she'd gotten a bit foolhardy with everything that was happening around her. All the same, responding in some other way went against her nature and she'd already tried to drive her nature another direction repeatedly.

He's also right, though she's loathe to admit it, that they had promised to not keep secrets and she'd already broken that rule. It's not okay far as having a relationship goes, but she was a novice at relationships. She'd never allowed anyone close enough to be her boyfriend before. "I know..." She's more angry with herself at this point, but she doesn't fully know what to do with that. "But I figured I could spare you the ugliness of it all, keep your hands clean."

The shower was a good idea and she walked over towards the glass door of the large shower. She began to undo the buttons on her blouse, and felt some hint of embarrassment that she tried to ignore. He'd seen her naked now plenty of times, but this was about as far from romantic as someone could get.

Her blouse falls, followed by her pants, and lastly the undergarments. She feels a little too naked in front of him with not only the flaws, scars, and tattoos for him to see, but also all her flaws in regards to her behavior. She doesn't regret killing them, neither does she feel any guilt over it. Reaching a hand into the shower she tests the water, still a little cold for her liking, she wanted it hot. While looking away from him and paying a little too much attention to the water temperature, she sighs. "You angry at me because this reminds you that I will still kill in cold blood, or are you angry at me cause I didn't tell you about it?" At that moment she isn't even sure why she thought she could keep it from him.

It’s a testament to how comfortable they’ve become around each other in the most intimate of ways that her being naked doesn’t derail him entirely. Not that she isn’t still beautiful even now, covered in blood. But it’s a beauty he knows well in every sense, and he can compartmentalize while his anger is still fresh. When he looks at her, it’s only to check for any wounds. His relief at finding none quickly shifts into indignation though. His narrowed eyes quickly dart up to find her face.

“The latter,” he says, voice clipped. His exhale is low and rough. Almost a growl, more frustrated than angry now. “You think I’m still judging you for killin’? You think my hands have ever been clean?” He drags a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. It’s too late for this, but it’s not like it can wait.

“I’m not a good man. I’ve done plenty of ugly things, and I’m likely to do more. I do what I can to make up for that, but I’m a far cry from innocent. You killed them because they hurt Chloe, right?” He looks at her again, silently urging her to turn towards him. “You’re takin’ care of your own, same as you’ve always done. And I should've been there doing the same for you.”

Ashe had been too quick to get herself injured, she'd been as stealthy as she had in other situations where she had removed problems. Here it was less likely to remove the actual problem, but it had been a start. She'd never hid the fact that she thought this was a war between the sleepers and everyone else and she reacted from the perspective.

The shock of what he says outweighs her knee jerk response to snap right back at him with a line of defense. When they were teenagers the thought to leave him behind for such a thing wouldn't have ever occurred. As adults that had changed as they had changed. To hear him say not just that he would have but that he should have been there with her shifts her focus just slightly. "You would have come with me?"

The water was hot now and she leaned in to turn it down just a little so it would be perfect for climbing in to, but she didn't want the water to drown out his response so she waits a moment longer. Apparently their argument with her naked would have to go on a moment longer.

"I don't know what to think Jesse! I would have wanted you there, but we haven't exactly laid out the updates to you newer morality so I don't know what the limits are. And I don't want to lose you again!" Her voice grew impassioned as she said her own piece. "I didn't kill Reaper because I hated the thought of losin' you more than I hated him!" It comes out quickly, and she can't take the honesty back. She was really getting too comfortable with open conversation, and she worried it would get her into some kind of trouble. But there it was, a truth she hadn't fully wanted to recognize, but was clearly truthful. Sure it had felt good to one up them both, but she hadn't been able to fully shove aside the fear that Jesse might have given up on her if she had.

This was not a conversation he would have expected Reaper to appear in the midst of, but there’s his name—and with it comes the memories of that night. Her anger. His fear. It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d been just as afraid of losing him as he had been of losing her, albeit in an entirely different way.

For a moment, all that fills the air is the soft sound of the water from the shower. Then, when Jesse does speak, there’s no longer anger threatening to overwhelm his tone.

“I know the woman you are. I know what you’re capable of. And that I don’t hold it against you means I’m not leavin’ when it shows through.”

She’s dangerous. A criminal. A killer. He knows all that because he’s all those things himself. They’re not the same, but they’re of a kind. He’d thought she’d known it too, but perhaps not.

“Clean up, Liz.” He moves to walk past her, stopping only to rest his hand on her shoulder for a moment before moving on. “I’ll be waitin’.”

She was in much the same boat as far as being surprised went. They hadn't spent a lot of time talking about that, though they had discussed other things. It always seemed like more was going to come up to the surface. She should have expected that with their history, but it always caught her off guard.

Ashe often accused him of being a criminal, but truth was she had thought he was more lawful even despite the Blackwatch history. That they may not have strayed so far from each other is eye opening. Even more eye opening is the fact that he forgives her those trespasses.

A knot forms in her throat and she swallows it roughly as she suddenly feels a wave of shame. She always pushed aside the shame, but now she feels like she may have done something wrong and it wasn't the murders. In which case, she might have to actually apologize.

She gives a nod, "Just give me a minute and I'll join you." Then she steps into the shower and lets the hot water wash away the blood. With the water beating down on her, it gives her a moment to think about all those things that are running through her head and how to best approach Jesse after this. He has every right to be angry this time, the question is can she admit it.

After cleaning up, when she can't scrub anything else off and she can't delay it anymore, she climbs out and pulls a towel around herself. She takes a few more minutes to mill around the bathroom and get herself ready for bed, but finally she emerges dressed and clean.

Climbing into bed to join him, she reaches out for his hand. "I...I...Well...I..." The words are difficult to get out, but she finally spits them out quickly. "I made a mistake."

Jesse doesn’t do much as he waits for her, sitting in bed rather than pacing or picking up something to read. His racing thoughts are enough to keep him occupied. He’d missed something important, something vital to the way their relationship functions. This concept of him as a hero and her as a villain. How had he not noticed it earlier? Or had he, and had it just become such background noise to the rest that he’d not thought to address it head-on?

He knows which of them is true, and he means to make it right.

He doesn’t hesitate to take her hand, but his expression is caught between curious and concerned as he fumbles over her words to start. Whatever anger he has in him still is little to no match for the admission she makes next. He knows how hard it is for her to say that. His hand tightens on hers.

“… Yeah. You did. I’m just glad you’re alright.” He looks down at their joined hands, smiling a bit ruefully. “Should’ve said that first.”

[At Atsushi's encouragement Ritsuka contacts Jesse.]

Jesse-san... I... I don't know how to even ask this without-

I guess... with the bears gone and the trials done, did... you want me to move out? I'll understand if you say yes, I don't want to burden your kindness further.

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