almightythirst | Deerington Inbox

[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.

Never thought you'd be such a good host.

[ The joke falls flat despite his best efforts, as Jesse busies himself with fetching the alcohol from the fridge. Lord knows he'll need it for this. He settles down at the table with two glasses, in case Reaper might want to partake himself. Maybe he'll want to after he hears this. ]

And yeah... you aren't wrong about that. This isn't somethin' we even really talked much about, before.

[ He pours himself a drink, hesitating a moment before filling the other glass as well. If Reaper doesn't drink it, he will. ]

Truth is, we didn't have to. You blamed me, and I knew I deserved it.

[ He's stalling. He realizes it, but he just stares solemnly down at the liquid in his glass instead. ]

You clearly don't know much about me if you're claiming that.

[And that statement seemed to be opposite from what he could tell and the little bits that he was starting to remember. Also the whole gigantic birthday spread he had put on for Moira; he was an excellent host, and he'd murder anyone who would continually claim otherwise.

He remained at the counter, but his eyes followed Jesse as he moved to the fridge and back, keeping his arms loosely crossed over his chest. He ignored the glass poured for him right now, too close for brownies being done to feel the need to move from his spot.]

You do recall that I don't have many memories, yes? What you're saying makes little sense to me other than an impression here and there.

[He was smart enough to put aspects of his deaths together, since he remembered all of those very clearly.]

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