[ Ah. Venom rolls those words over in his head, digests them slowly so that they percolate. In his mental frame of reference, the answer to that is 'maybe you weren't meant for a commanding role'; it's a charisma's job to protect his or her people, or finish them off by his or her own hands. To burn yourself for the sake of the people that burn for you, irrespective of emotions.
But things never quite work out that way— Venom knows that, because Venom is just an exoskeleton of his own equivalent of Jack Morrison. Whatever he has to say is trite, because he's sure everything he's ever thought has already crossed Jack's mind. ]
After a while, it stops being about what you want. [ Blunt words, tempered by his careful delivery. Venom takes another step, two feet away from being at arm's length. ] But you're still gonna have to live.
[ That's the easiest way to make his people happy, even if it's the most difficult option. ]
[It's never been about what he wants--to think otherwise is silly. Jack has made immeasurable sacrifices in the name of his organization, to the point where he thinks he could make a good argument that he's never been able to have what he wants. It had never really bothered him, not when he was so devoted to Overwatch and doing what was best for it. Putting himself second was just part of the job.]
They're trying to bring it back.
[Really, it's just Winston and Lena, but he already knows that the others will jump at the chance. Maybe it's irrelevant because they've all been brought here, but it still twists something inside Jack's chest, to know they can't just leave well enough alone. That they understand so little about what actually happened that they'd try to do it all over again. Overwatch was never as pristine--its ideals never as pure--as they thought it was. They'd gone out and saved the world while Jack stayed in his office, wading through the actual repercussions of running a global peacekeeping force.
Now they're going to do it all over again, except this time, they don't have him to navigate the politics of it all.]
There's an active recall in effect. One of the old agents sent it out. They're all going to end up in prison over it.
[ Venom doesn't have an exact understanding of the politics behind Overwatch, but he can hazard a guess. After all, he knows what happens when vigilante military factions get too big: they get bombed to hell and left to rot at the bottom of the Caribbean ocean. He's been there.
So— yeah, it's naive. ]
They made it public? [ If so, that's incredibly visible, which is incredibly foolhardy. His incredulity settles in his voice, culminating in a silent sigh. ] Not the smartest thing they could've done.
[ It took his own Diamond Dogs nine years of planning and under-the-table HUMINT maneuvers to start operations in full; an active recall is like painting a giant 'Kick Me' sign on every agent's back. ]
[To say nothing of various other international intelligence agencies. Jack is of the firm belief that the UN is letting this happen because it's a good idea to have a convenient scapegoat. Winston is walking right into a trap, and all it's going to take is one slip-up.]
There was an incident. Media's mostly speculating right now, but it's only a matter of time.
[ Which is probably a huge understatement, but it's the most of what he can make with the information that he has. Media intervention is usually the quickest way for any situation to spiral out of control. ]
I'm guessing you've already tried to explain this to the others.
I lost the right to tell them what to do when I 'abandoned' them.
[Their words, not his, and he hopes that the emphasis makes that clear. Jack shrugs a little, because they're not wrong--it's just much more complicated than any of them want to think about.]
They think saving the world should speak for itself. Never had to navigate the politics of it. Don't understand that sometimes the world doesn't want to be saved.
...Give them time. They're gonna need it to get things in perspective.
[ He says, but he knows that it's not so easy. Emotions are minefields where the traps have been laid at random, and any slight tremor can send the entire place alight— if Jack's people loved him as much as Angela did (does, present tense), they're going to need some time to disarm the worst of their explosives.
Venom Knows. He has lived this also. ]
You don't seem like the kind of person who could just cut them loose, anyway.
[ He shifts on his feet, breathes softly under his breath. "Cut your losses" is never a thing that Venom can bring himself to say, despite reality necessitating it on occasion. ]
[He makes a vague sort of gesture to indicate that yes, he knows, and he doesn't blame them. They can think whatever they want about him, he just hopes that someone takes his words to heart. He's been there. He knows how this goes. Ignoring his advice is a bad idea, no matter how much they want to do this on their own.
They don't have time, is what he wants to say, because all it's going to take is one slip-up, one singular instance of inserting themselves when they're not wanted.]
Wish I could.
[Even if that's not quite the right phrase. Jack wishes he could walk away from Overwatch itself, that it didn't keep threatening to drag him back in, even after he's given so much of himself to it.]
Not much I can do for them this time.
[A lie, because there is one thing--coming back to life is a trump card he'd rather not use, but it's a trump card all the same. Jack would be more than content to go to prison for the rest of his life if it means the rest of them walk free. He can only hope it won't come to that point before he has the answers he wants, but he's full prepared to take that fall.]
[ A mm under his breath, and Venom moves to lean against the porch fence. His fingers drum along wood, filling the stretch of silence that follows Jack's response.
It's heavy, but he didn't expect anything less. ]
Sometimes— [ —the hardest people to handle are your allies, not your enemies— ] —some things are gonna be out of your control.
[ Not something that needs to be said, Venom's sure. He waves that thought aside physically, a palm in the air and a sigh to scatter it. ]
[The past ten years seem like little more than a spiral of things escaping his control. They're all adults. They'll make their own choices, even if he doesn't approve of them. Even if it's going to undo all of the work to which he devoted his entire life.
He'll have to come to terms with that, somehow, and he gives Venom a somewhat surprised look, like he's not sure why his feelings should factor into it at all. It's never been about him.
[ It's never really going to be about them, when it comes down to it. But that doesn't preclude Venom from a vague sense of misplaced empathy, so he moves to put a hand on Jack's shoulder. The gesture is instinctive, simple and uncomplicated. ]
Get some downtime. This is as good a place to get it as any.
[Jack can’t quite help the derisive snort—at the sentiment, not at the hand on his shoulder. He flinches a little, an automatic response, but after a moment he relaxes, though he can’t quite take his eyes off where Venom is touching him.
They pumped me full of chemicals, remember? I'm ancient, you just can't tell.
[He's fifty-five.
But that's a joke, maybe, because there's the slightest hint of a grin on his face. It lightens the mood enough to remind him that maybe he should be a little more hospitable.]
[ Without the visor, Jack's half-smile seems much more organic. Natural. It's not an expression that Venom's seen before, and he commits it to memory with a vague uptick of his scarred lips to match.
Venom puts Jack at— early 50s? His age. He can't quite tell if the other soldier is lying about the chemicals slowing his age (look at Angela), though, so who knows. ]
Only if you won't throw out your back showing me around.
[ Mr. 'Ancient'.
There are still questions he wants to ask— unfinished business with Jack's metaphorical 'other half of the coin', whether or not the ghost still has a bone to pick with him— but that's just being a busybody. If Jack comes to him to ask for backup about it, then he'll open his mouth about it. ]
[Thank goodness for secret government juice! Jack's grin gets just the slightest bit wider before he turns to go inside, holding the door open for Venom. The place is fairly spartan, but quaint--any semblance of comfort entirely Ana's doing (because Jack would be more than content with a cot and not much else, probably).
Venom hasn't actually asserted that he wants a drink, but he'll direct them both into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove.
Unsurprisingly (or perhaps surprisingly), this is a tea household.]
[ The gesture is as quaint as the personal touches to the utilitarian space, and Venom looks around to take it all in. While he's observing, he starts putting two and two together again. ]
Kauto, R1. Busier place than this.
[ His elbows settle on the kitchen counter, lower back resting against cabinets. ]
[Hearing Venom address her as his sniper sounds a little odd, because of course it has always been a partnership. It has Jack wondering who Venom has at his back--if anyone at all.
He supposes, now, that he can divulge the truth about Ana. It will probably put a great deal of things in context.]
[ SIC fits better than a subordinate, to be sure. Venom recalls back to what he'd seen at the camp, the two's easy rapport. ]
Makes sense. [ He flicks his gaze towards Jack, patient and evaluative. Almost searching, before that expression smooths over into something verging on mildly fond. ] She's got you whipped.
[It's a joke, sure, but perhaps Jack looks a little surprised by it, and most certainly unsure of how to react. In matters of interpersonal relationships--especially very close ones--he seems to have some trouble actually talking about it.]
It's not--
[Like that, he wants to say, but the truth is that there's no real arguing the sentiment. After a moment, he seems to realize this and relent, the fondness creeping back into his voice as he exhales and scrubs a hand through his hair, almost embarrassed.]
She watches my back.
[Saved his life more times than he can count. Jack doesn't think he'll ever be able to fully describe his relationship with Ana or what she means to him. The easiest way is to just ask if Venom feels something similar.]
[ The reaction speaks for itself. Suffice it to say that the fond exhale would've been enough; Venom turns his head, letting shadows bisect his profile to hide whatever satisfaction creeps up onto his expression.
His answer to the question comes after a beat. ]
Besides Kaz? [ Who Jack is probably aware of by proxy. The immediacy of his answer speaks to the level of faith he places in his XO, but he presses on. ] There's no one I trust more on ground control than him.
On the field— [ a mild noise, under his breath. ] —Used to.
[Jack shrugs--he hadn't been thinking of Kaz when he asked the question, but he won't argue if that's who Venom wants to give as his answer. Instead, however, he elaborates. It occurs to him that he doesn't know much at all about his former roommate, beyond what he can glean from educated guesses. A military background, sure. A special operative. Everything else is up in the air, especially the people he may or may not have worked with.]
Who?
[The used to doesn't go unnoticed, but Jack isn't sure what it means, yet. He supposes he wouldn't be surprised to hear that Venom has lost people, too.]
[ It's a sore subject, the kind that makes Venom look equal measures fond and distant; like he's reliving something that he knows is in the past. Something he doesn't want to forget.
He shifts his feet along the kitchen floor, breathing through his nose. The beginnings of a frown pull at the corner of his mouth, but he keeps himself largely in check. ]
The kind of woman that'd rip your throat out with her teeth. [ A swerve back in the direction of dry humor, no matter how much it digs at him to talk about her. ]
[So Venom had a sniper too--Jack doesn't miss the use of the past tense, though he supposes it could just as easily mean she's never made it to Thisavrou, in which case, it's probably for the best. Something in Venom's face, however, seems to tell Jack it's not the case.
He wonders if he should pry.]
I know the type.
[Jack tries to offer a wry smile, one that understands.]
[ He knows what Jack wants to ask, because it's implicit in Jack's understanding. Here, in this place, the past tense doesn't really mean anything at all; Venom knows that what Jack wants is a confirmation. ]
No. She's MIA.
[ Which is the optimistic way of looking at it, but reality dictates that her status is very likely just 'dead'. He knows her— she would rip a man's throat out with her teeth, yes, but she would just as soon as rip her own throat out with her bare hands before she'd let herself be a liability.
He huffs, almost self-deprecating. ]
Haven't been looking for a replacement, ever since.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But things never quite work out that way— Venom knows that, because Venom is just an exoskeleton of his own equivalent of Jack Morrison. Whatever he has to say is trite, because he's sure everything he's ever thought has already crossed Jack's mind. ]
After a while, it stops being about what you want. [ Blunt words, tempered by his careful delivery. Venom takes another step, two feet away from being at arm's length. ] But you're still gonna have to live.
[ That's the easiest way to make his people happy, even if it's the most difficult option. ]
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They're trying to bring it back.
[Really, it's just Winston and Lena, but he already knows that the others will jump at the chance. Maybe it's irrelevant because they've all been brought here, but it still twists something inside Jack's chest, to know they can't just leave well enough alone. That they understand so little about what actually happened that they'd try to do it all over again. Overwatch was never as pristine--its ideals never as pure--as they thought it was. They'd gone out and saved the world while Jack stayed in his office, wading through the actual repercussions of running a global peacekeeping force.
Now they're going to do it all over again, except this time, they don't have him to navigate the politics of it all.]
There's an active recall in effect. One of the old agents sent it out. They're all going to end up in prison over it.
[So much for getting on with their lives.]
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So— yeah, it's naive. ]
They made it public? [ If so, that's incredibly visible, which is incredibly foolhardy. His incredulity settles in his voice, culminating in a silent sigh. ] Not the smartest thing they could've done.
[ It took his own Diamond Dogs nine years of planning and under-the-table HUMINT maneuvers to start operations in full; an active recall is like painting a giant 'Kick Me' sign on every agent's back. ]
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[To say nothing of various other international intelligence agencies. Jack is of the firm belief that the UN is letting this happen because it's a good idea to have a convenient scapegoat. Winston is walking right into a trap, and all it's going to take is one slip-up.]
There was an incident. Media's mostly speculating right now, but it's only a matter of time.
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[ Which is probably a huge understatement, but it's the most of what he can make with the information that he has. Media intervention is usually the quickest way for any situation to spiral out of control. ]
I'm guessing you've already tried to explain this to the others.
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[Their words, not his, and he hopes that the emphasis makes that clear. Jack shrugs a little, because they're not wrong--it's just much more complicated than any of them want to think about.]
They think saving the world should speak for itself. Never had to navigate the politics of it. Don't understand that sometimes the world doesn't want to be saved.
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[ He says, but he knows that it's not so easy. Emotions are minefields where the traps have been laid at random, and any slight tremor can send the entire place alight— if Jack's people loved him as much as Angela did (does, present tense), they're going to need some time to disarm the worst of their explosives.
Venom Knows. He has lived this also. ]
You don't seem like the kind of person who could just cut them loose, anyway.
[ He shifts on his feet, breathes softly under his breath. "Cut your losses" is never a thing that Venom can bring himself to say, despite reality necessitating it on occasion. ]
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They don't have time, is what he wants to say, because all it's going to take is one slip-up, one singular instance of inserting themselves when they're not wanted.]
Wish I could.
[Even if that's not quite the right phrase. Jack wishes he could walk away from Overwatch itself, that it didn't keep threatening to drag him back in, even after he's given so much of himself to it.]
Not much I can do for them this time.
[A lie, because there is one thing--coming back to life is a trump card he'd rather not use, but it's a trump card all the same. Jack would be more than content to go to prison for the rest of his life if it means the rest of them walk free. He can only hope it won't come to that point before he has the answers he wants, but he's full prepared to take that fall.]
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It's heavy, but he didn't expect anything less. ]
Sometimes— [ —the hardest people to handle are your allies, not your enemies— ] —some things are gonna be out of your control.
[ Not something that needs to be said, Venom's sure. He waves that thought aside physically, a palm in the air and a sigh to scatter it. ]
You're gonna be alright?
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[The past ten years seem like little more than a spiral of things escaping his control. They're all adults. They'll make their own choices, even if he doesn't approve of them. Even if it's going to undo all of the work to which he devoted his entire life.
He'll have to come to terms with that, somehow, and he gives Venom a somewhat surprised look, like he's not sure why his feelings should factor into it at all. It's never been about him.
After a moment, he nods.]
Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay.
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Get some downtime. This is as good a place to get it as any.
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[Jack can’t quite help the derisive snort—at the sentiment, not at the hand on his shoulder. He flinches a little, an automatic response, but after a moment he relaxes, though he can’t quite take his eyes off where Venom is touching him.
The sentiment, at least, is understood.]
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You're not that old.
[ Stay in the 50s-and-kicking club with Venom, Jack... ]
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[He's fifty-five.
But that's a joke, maybe, because there's the slightest hint of a grin on his face. It lightens the mood enough to remind him that maybe he should be a little more hospitable.]
You want to come in?
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Venom puts Jack at— early 50s? His age. He can't quite tell if the other soldier is lying about the chemicals slowing his age (look at Angela), though, so who knows. ]
Only if you won't throw out your back showing me around.
[ Mr. 'Ancient'.
There are still questions he wants to ask— unfinished business with Jack's metaphorical 'other half of the coin', whether or not the ghost still has a bone to pick with him— but that's just being a busybody. If Jack comes to him to ask for backup about it, then he'll open his mouth about it. ]
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[Thank goodness for secret government juice! Jack's grin gets just the slightest bit wider before he turns to go inside, holding the door open for Venom. The place is fairly spartan, but quaint--any semblance of comfort entirely Ana's doing (because Jack would be more than content with a cot and not much else, probably).
Venom hasn't actually asserted that he wants a drink, but he'll direct them both into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove.
Unsurprisingly (or perhaps surprisingly), this is a tea household.]
Where are you staying?
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Kauto, R1. Busier place than this.
[ His elbows settle on the kitchen counter, lower back resting against cabinets. ]
—You live here with your sniper?
[ Ana, he remembers. Crack shot. ]
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[Hearing Venom address her as his sniper sounds a little odd, because of course it has always been a partnership. It has Jack wondering who Venom has at his back--if anyone at all.
He supposes, now, that he can divulge the truth about Ana. It will probably put a great deal of things in context.]
She was my SIC.
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Makes sense. [ He flicks his gaze towards Jack, patient and evaluative. Almost searching, before that expression smooths over into something verging on mildly fond. ] She's got you whipped.
[ It's a joke. (He knows how SICs can be.) ]
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It's not--
[Like that, he wants to say, but the truth is that there's no real arguing the sentiment. After a moment, he seems to realize this and relent, the fondness creeping back into his voice as he exhales and scrubs a hand through his hair, almost embarrassed.]
She watches my back.
[Saved his life more times than he can count. Jack doesn't think he'll ever be able to fully describe his relationship with Ana or what she means to him. The easiest way is to just ask if Venom feels something similar.]
You got someone like that?
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His answer to the question comes after a beat. ]
Besides Kaz? [ Who Jack is probably aware of by proxy. The immediacy of his answer speaks to the level of faith he places in his XO, but he presses on. ] There's no one I trust more on ground control than him.
On the field— [ a mild noise, under his breath. ] —Used to.
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Who?
[The used to doesn't go unnoticed, but Jack isn't sure what it means, yet. He supposes he wouldn't be surprised to hear that Venom has lost people, too.]
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[ It's a sore subject, the kind that makes Venom look equal measures fond and distant; like he's reliving something that he knows is in the past. Something he doesn't want to forget.
He shifts his feet along the kitchen floor, breathing through his nose. The beginnings of a frown pull at the corner of his mouth, but he keeps himself largely in check. ]
The kind of woman that'd rip your throat out with her teeth. [ A swerve back in the direction of dry humor, no matter how much it digs at him to talk about her. ]
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He wonders if he should pry.]
I know the type.
[Jack tries to offer a wry smile, one that understands.]
She back home?
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No. She's MIA.
[ Which is the optimistic way of looking at it, but reality dictates that her status is very likely just 'dead'. He knows her— she would rip a man's throat out with her teeth, yes, but she would just as soon as rip her own throat out with her bare hands before she'd let herself be a liability.
He huffs, almost self-deprecating. ]
Haven't been looking for a replacement, ever since.
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