It Takes Time / Reaper x fem!OC

35. Worth A Shot

It took the huge, leather clad man only half a second to determine that Sienna wasn't in her room. But for that half a second, a feeling like hot lightning crawled under his skin before it melted away at his own realisation.

She gets up early to train.

Shaking himself off, he thumped himself in the chest, ignoring the painful feeling in his lungs.
He had never teleported so far in one go before, and it was not a pleasant sensation, to say the least.

His body was pulling at him not to shadow jump again, to give himself a break, but Reaper couldn't wait that long. The clock was ticking.

The force that own his heart pulled him with far outweighed the strength of the shadows, and the dark assassin disappeared again.

And again.

And again.

With each passing second, Reaper's body screamed at him to stop, shadows ripping into his skin with impossibly sharp, silken edges, cutting him a million times more.

Rooms flew by in a blur, time passing even quicker; through empty rooms and not so empty rooms, until he stopped.

Landing heavily, dark matter oozed from under his mask like a cloud of smoke and ash, rising from his skin like he was being burned alive.

Is she even still alive? Is there any point in this? You're too late, clearly.

Reaper couldnt help but hear the thoughts burrowing through his skull, gnawing away at his drive, burying his thoughts.

But even through it all, the pain was real. The pain inside, bringing him back up to the surface.

Is this what it feels like without her?

Angered by his own thoughts, the man let out a roar, drawing energy from a reserve he didn't know he had. His voice was hoarse, ripped and quiet, and it only for him to hear.

'I don't want to find out.'

Forcing himself to raise his head and look through the darkening fog, Reaper's white bone mask saw straight through to two faces: one omnic and one cigar-chewing cowboy.

The cigar hit the ground, crumbling slightly at the impact.

Reaper's voice was hoarse and torn, but he forced the words out.
'Where is she?'

'G... Gabe?'
The shock on McCree's face quickly melted away and the cowboy stepped forward, instantly picking up his Overwatch persona.

'You know I can't let you go any further, Reaper. You're the enemy here, much as I hate that.'
McCree's accented voice rang across the space between them. His words gave away little of their history, but his lidded eyes betrayed his sadness.

Reaper suppressed a deep-rooted growl. I don't need this distraction right now.

'You don't understand! Where is Sienna? I don't have time for this.' Irritation plucked at his skin and he took a step forward, intending to leave them.

'I can't let you do that, I'm afraid.' Raising his pistol, McCree stood directly infront of Reaper, eyeing the huge black shotguns - still holstered.