[He lets her have his hands - and she wishes she could strip away so much more than the gloves.
She wishes she had years ago.
But there is no going back, not in any way that is safe or sane, and she is already having a difficult enough time going forward. Because the weight of the souls she carries is only half of the reason she didn't come back to him right away. The larger half, because she knew that she was not whole inside, that if her foundation was not solid before she moved, she would break for good and this time she would take others down with her when she crumbled. But there had been a more vulnerable and personal reason as well and one she felt much smaller and ashamed for having.]
Jack - [Her voice was gentle, calling, the long whisper of it that she could only do and one hand left his to cup his cheek as she stepped in closer to him, looking up at his face with her good eye. Because - he was falling. She could feel it in him. Taking all the blame for things that hadn't been his to carry.] We are soldiers. Carrying the dead is what we do. You could not have shouldered my responsibility as I could not yours. On the nights the ghosts walked for me, you were there, awake, to be alive and keep me from them. It was what I needed most. But I also needed time alone, with those ghosts and no interruptions. I needed to stop pretending they did not matter to me, that they did not effect me. I could not do that with you there to keep them away.
[Which was true. All true. And she had needed that time in privacy, locked in the lonely dark with them, no rescue. It had taken time, perhaps too much time. Her healing had perhaps cost everyone else. Or perhaps that was the simple answer and Overwatch had been crumbling long before she'd vanished and it had blown itself to hell. She looked down at his hand. Wrapped her own around that weathered familiar skin. Gave him the rest.]
But that was not the only reason I needed to be alone. [Her eye lifted back to his and her hand left his face to tap against the cover over the destroyed half of her.] I called protecting you my job. It was more than my job. It was my purpose. When I lost the ability to carry out my purpose, I lost myself. I was a gun with no trigger, useless to everyone. Even myself. If I could not do the one thing I was called to do, what was left of me? Better, I thought, that I die than live broken and useless to everyone. But I did not die and so disappearing was close enough. [Her head tipped for him and the single onyx eye that looked up at him didn't look useless or broken even if it did look sad and ancient with weight - and calm with hints of life glinting in it the way they always had. Watching him. Waiting. Because she was not 'disappeared' anymore.]
no subject
She wishes she had years ago.
But there is no going back, not in any way that is safe or sane, and she is already having a difficult enough time going forward. Because the weight of the souls she carries is only half of the reason she didn't come back to him right away. The larger half, because she knew that she was not whole inside, that if her foundation was not solid before she moved, she would break for good and this time she would take others down with her when she crumbled. But there had been a more vulnerable and personal reason as well and one she felt much smaller and ashamed for having.]
Jack - [Her voice was gentle, calling, the long whisper of it that she could only do and one hand left his to cup his cheek as she stepped in closer to him, looking up at his face with her good eye. Because - he was falling. She could feel it in him. Taking all the blame for things that hadn't been his to carry.] We are soldiers. Carrying the dead is what we do. You could not have shouldered my responsibility as I could not yours. On the nights the ghosts walked for me, you were there, awake, to be alive and keep me from them. It was what I needed most. But I also needed time alone, with those ghosts and no interruptions. I needed to stop pretending they did not matter to me, that they did not effect me. I could not do that with you there to keep them away.
[Which was true. All true. And she had needed that time in privacy, locked in the lonely dark with them, no rescue. It had taken time, perhaps too much time. Her healing had perhaps cost everyone else. Or perhaps that was the simple answer and Overwatch had been crumbling long before she'd vanished and it had blown itself to hell. She looked down at his hand. Wrapped her own around that weathered familiar skin. Gave him the rest.]
But that was not the only reason I needed to be alone. [Her eye lifted back to his and her hand left his face to tap against the cover over the destroyed half of her.] I called protecting you my job. It was more than my job. It was my purpose. When I lost the ability to carry out my purpose, I lost myself. I was a gun with no trigger, useless to everyone. Even myself. If I could not do the one thing I was called to do, what was left of me? Better, I thought, that I die than live broken and useless to everyone. But I did not die and so disappearing was close enough. [Her head tipped for him and the single onyx eye that looked up at him didn't look useless or broken even if it did look sad and ancient with weight - and calm with hints of life glinting in it the way they always had. Watching him. Waiting. Because she was not 'disappeared' anymore.]