Remembrance (Overwatch: Reaper x Reader)

Chapter 9: Midnight Companion

I lay in my bed in nothing but one of Gabriel's old t-shirts and a (f/c) night gown. I hated being confined to my room all day, but considering Angela seemed rather agitated this morning, I dared not to question.

Tracer had come to visit several times, but in the end it only caused Dr. Ziegler to ban anyone from seeing me at all. A shame too, Reinhardt had wanted to share his story of the crisis. As repetitive as it got, he always had a way of making it interesting each and every time.

     "Why so glum, maripósa?"

My head shot up at the sound of the nickname. Only one person ever called me that, "Gabe?" The hopefulness left my eyes when black smoke snuck its way through the window. 

     "Oh, it's you." I sighed, sagging my shoulders, "The guy with the barn owl mask."

     "Wha—?" He stiffened, "It's not a—! Oh, hush."

     "Why are you here?" I blinked slowly, yawning as grogginess clouded my mind.

     "I thought...maybe," he seemed to hesitate. "I figured I should check up on you."

I blushed, gripping the comforter between my fingers as heat radiated on my face. "I-I see. That's very nice of you."

     "Mhm." He gave a grunt of acknowledgment, whisking away like a ghost to the corner of the room before seating himself in a chair.

     "Ugh, what are you doing?" I sat up in confusion.

     "Don't sorry about it, maripósa."

     "Why do you keep calling me that?" I chewed lightly on the inside of my mouth, "It means butterfly, doesn't it?"

     "I suppose," he leaned back in the chair, resting ether arm on the arm rests. "Does it bother you?"

     "No," I looked away shyly. 

I shifted uncomfortably. I slid the nightgown off my shoulders before throwing it aside, leaving me in nothing but a shirt and shorts. The mysterious man stared, or I assumed he was, his mask was facing in my direction. 

     "What?"

     "Where did you get that shirt?"

I looked down at myself before back at him. "I—A friend," I murmured. "An old friend once wore it."

     "So why do you wear it? You have some creepy fettish?"

     "What!?" I immediately turned all shades of red, "No! Y-You pervert!"

     "Then why do you wear it?" He presses the question, leaning forward slightly.

     "Because...because it reminds me of him."

I hugged the wore fabric against my skin. Warm and cozy, Gabriel's stale scent still lingered on the tearing threads. The last connection I had to him. 

     "Why do you miss him so much?"

     "Why are you asking me all these question?" I spat, "I don't even know your damn name!"

     "Reaper." He growled, "If it makes you feel so special, call me Reaper."

Reaper. I shivered at the name. It just sounded, dark and depressing. "So, you want me to call you the literal God of death?"

    "Do I look like Hades?"

     "I mean, sort of." I gestures to all of him, "You're dressed like an emo kid, and you have literal smoke coming off your body."

     "Your point?"

I shrugged, bringing my knees up to my chest. Moonlight streamed into the room through the window, illuminating the pearl-white material of that ominous skull mask. 

     "Can I ask you something?"

     "Mhm." 

Was that all he did? Grunt? I rolled my eyes, "How'd you get that wound?" I pointed towards the bandages injury on his hip. "Speaking of, who the hell bandaged that up? It looks horrible!"

     "Moi—A Doctor." 

     "Can I fix it?" I reached over to the table beside my bed, pulling out the miniature med-kit. 

     "Don't touch me," he growled threateningly.

     "Okay, okay, sheesh." I raised my hands defensively, "I'm only trying to help."

     "Why?"

      "I dunno," I scowled at him. Why was he being so damn stubborn? "I'm sorry it's in my nature to put others before myself."

     "Well, you should change that." Reaper scoffed, "It'll get you killed."

     "Yeah well, I'll take my chances." 

I threw myself back on the pillows, burying my face in the soft material. I closed my eyes, a soft sigh escaping my lips as I let the cold sheets cool off my skin.

     "Can you stay?"

     "What?" He sounded surprised, almost shocked at my question.

     "It just...gets lonely sometimes." I sighed, hiding my face, "Can you stay? At least, until I fall asleep?"

He hesitated before relenting, "Fine." He sat back in the chair, crossing his legs as he stared out the window. 

     3rd POV

He watched the girl curiously. He couldn't understand why she was so trusting of him, it was impossible for her to know who he truly was. Then again, he supposed the real question was: Why hasn't he killed her yet? 

It was his goal to eliminate all former agents of the organization he once called home. He could have shot her right there and then, quick and easy in her sleep. But he didn't. Or was it because he couldn't? He gripped the arm rests of the chair he sat in, claws digging into the material.

He couldn't be feeling sentimental, that wasn't an option. He had given his life to Talon. To abandon it now would cost him everything. But he had called her maripósa, a nickname he once gave (Y/N) during their time in Blackwatch. How he missed saying it aloud, letting the sweet Spanish word slide off his tongue like water. 

Reaper watches the girl's sides rise and fall slowly with each breath she took. He could tell she was already asleep, indicated by the soft snores that echoed every few minutes. She had said she felt...lonely. Why would she feel lonely? She had so many friends, alive and well here at Gibraltar. Why was it him she missed so much?

He couldn't be feeling this way, it was impossible. He had no heart anymore, he had no way whatsoever of feeling emotion. So then why did he feel a clenching sensation in his chest each time he heard her voice? What was wrong with him? He cursed himself under his breath, shaking his head vigorously. 

The smoke that billowed off of his body had begun to swirl around the room, and his facial features began to deteriorate. A common side effect that occurred when he was angry. He snarled, feeling the cells of his skin bubble and almost decay completely. He hated it. He hated the fact that he couldn't just erase the memories from his conscious. He didn't want to remember, yet he did. With a distressed whimper, he evaporated into darkness and left through the open window. He was broken, and the only thing that could heal him, he couldn't have.