[ 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.
[The sympathetic glance Jack offers says it all, because he understands, of course. One can't have the military career he did without some measure of loss, and he feels each one acutely. Even though Ana turned out to be alive, Jack was still left with seven long years of her absence, the hurt of it never really subsiding. Even though Overwatch didn't last long after her disappearance, Jack knows he never would have taken on a more permanent second in command. There was no replacing her.
How do you explain to someone what that's like? To have some vital part of you torn away?]
Sorry to hear that.
[But of course it rings hollow. He can barely describe what Ana means to him in human terms; consoling someone who may have felt a similar loss is beyond him entirely.]
Some people, you just can't find anyone else for the job.
[ Some losses are like pinprick holes in reinforced exteriors; small enough that the shape of the whole doesn't crack or warp, but big enough that they keep bleeding out. It's the sort of steady trickle that becomes normalized with each passing day, the sort of slow drain that leaves people tired but not incapable of functioning.
Venom knows that Jack knows what it feels like. He sees it in the patterns of his companion's face, hears it in the diplomacy of his tone. Consolation is never on the table, but sometimes the acknowledgment of loss is cathartic in itself— just to be able to say that yes, his silent companion was real, and yes, she was there.
So he stops himself before he can sink into something painful. Imagines Quiet hovering on the kitchen counter next to him, grimacing and pointing a well-aimed middle finger in his face. "Don't mope, it's fucking annoying," in not so many words.
Venom breathes a dry half-chuckle. ]
Mm.
She would've given Ana a run for her money.
[ (see— he's fine. he knows what Quiet would've wanted him to say.) ]
[Jack would describe it more like the loss of a limb--Ana was a public figure and had been for years, the two of them inseparable. With Overwatch already on its way out, the wound was ugly and visible to everyone. Media speculation was rampant, Ana's disappearance inextricably linked to the decline of Overwatch, and Jack was never offered the privacy or time he needed to really grieve. He survived, but he didn't really give himself a choice. The rest of the world would have certainly preferred to see him go under, and in a way, they got their wish.
Even now that he has her back, he still feels it, sometimes. The constant ache of a phantom limb where they took her from him.
Thankfully, Venom doesn't give him much of a chance to dwell further. Those are fighting words, and he can't help but leap to the defense of his former SIC, a sort of dangerous grin creeping onto his face at the very prospect of the two of them facing off.]
You're lucky she's not here, then. I'd put her to the test.
[Because, of course, Ana is the Greatest Sniper in the World, bar none.]
[ It's easier, this way: remember Quiet at her best, nose to the wind and her skin shining, parasites dancing over her edges like jagged diamonds. Stomach-down in sand, humming Laura Branigan's "Gloria" under her breath.
Venom breathes a laugh that takes himself by surprise. It's warm in a way he didn't want it to be, strained through his throat in a way that's almost accidental. Like he's just come up from drowning, spitting water and chuckling at how close he's gotten to really kicking it.
He misses her, yeah. ]
She was enhanced. Like you. [ A light shrug, enamored by how quickly Jack rises to the occasion when it has to do with Ana. ] Could shoot through chopper blades while they were moving.
[Without enhancements. She had here eye, but that's gone now and Jack isn't certain she has any interest in replacing it. And sure, he's never seen Ana shoot through moving chopper blades, but he'd bet on her anyway.]
[ The feat is patently impossible without enhancements, in Venom's opinion, but Venom breathes a soft laugh under his breath anyway; it's something about Jack's faith that makes him look and sound 15 years younger. ]
Gonna have to find us a chopper, then.
[ He reaches over, turns the heat down for the kettle. ]
...And you wonder why your people trust you. [ Spoken under his breath, really. Come on, Jack. ]
[Venom might speak that under his breath, but Jack doesn't let it go unnoticed. He knows he doesn't need to contest the claim at all, but there's still a part of him wary of showing even the slightest weakness, even to someone he can ostensibly trust.]
I'm only nice to Ana.
[It's a transparent attempt to downplay it, but what else can he do?}
[Everything he's doing as Soldier: 76 is incredibly unprofessional, for one thing, and of course they're joking, but Jack thinks he's more than earned the right to behave however he likes.]
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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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How do you explain to someone what that's like? To have some vital part of you torn away?]
Sorry to hear that.
[But of course it rings hollow. He can barely describe what Ana means to him in human terms; consoling someone who may have felt a similar loss is beyond him entirely.]
Some people, you just can't find anyone else for the job.
[You can't replace them. It's impossible.]
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Venom knows that Jack knows what it feels like. He sees it in the patterns of his companion's face, hears it in the diplomacy of his tone. Consolation is never on the table, but sometimes the acknowledgment of loss is cathartic in itself— just to be able to say that yes, his silent companion was real, and yes, she was there.
So he stops himself before he can sink into something painful. Imagines Quiet hovering on the kitchen counter next to him, grimacing and pointing a well-aimed middle finger in his face. "Don't mope, it's fucking annoying," in not so many words.
Venom breathes a dry half-chuckle. ]
Mm.
She would've given Ana a run for her money.
[ (see— he's fine. he knows what Quiet would've wanted him to say.) ]
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Even now that he has her back, he still feels it, sometimes. The constant ache of a phantom limb where they took her from him.
Thankfully, Venom doesn't give him much of a chance to dwell further. Those are fighting words, and he can't help but leap to the defense of his former SIC, a sort of dangerous grin creeping onto his face at the very prospect of the two of them facing off.]
You're lucky she's not here, then. I'd put her to the test.
[Because, of course, Ana is the Greatest Sniper in the World, bar none.]
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Venom breathes a laugh that takes himself by surprise. It's warm in a way he didn't want it to be, strained through his throat in a way that's almost accidental. Like he's just come up from drowning, spitting water and chuckling at how close he's gotten to really kicking it.
He misses her, yeah. ]
She was enhanced. Like you. [ A light shrug, enamored by how quickly Jack rises to the occasion when it has to do with Ana. ] Could shoot through chopper blades while they were moving.
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[Without enhancements. She had here eye, but that's gone now and Jack isn't certain she has any interest in replacing it. And sure, he's never seen Ana shoot through moving chopper blades, but he'd bet on her anyway.]
I'd put money on it.
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Gonna have to find us a chopper, then.
[ He reaches over, turns the heat down for the kettle. ]
...And you wonder why your people trust you. [ Spoken under his breath, really. Come on, Jack. ]
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I'm only nice to Ana.
[It's a transparent attempt to downplay it, but what else can he do?}
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Obvious, but harmless. ]
Favoritism. Not exactly professional. [ He's just riding Jack's ass with this one, though— the joke is the standard dry military fare. ]
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[Forcibly, and not really retired.]
I'm allowed to be unprofessional.
[Everything he's doing as Soldier: 76 is incredibly unprofessional, for one thing, and of course they're joking, but Jack thinks he's more than earned the right to behave however he likes.]
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Fine, then. Tell her that, not me.
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[Even if they’re mostly joking about all of this anyway.]
But if your girl shows up, we’re finding a helicopter.
[He’s very, very serious about that.]