Save Him One More Time: Phase 3

Chapter 3- Reaper

(This chapter is pretty dark, just a little heads up. Nothing triggering, I don't think, unless brainwashing is triggering to you, in which case, maybe just kind of skim this chapter.)

He sat on the hotel bed with his head in his hands. Of course she had to leave the country. Sources said she was going to Russia. Moira was going to $#&% kill him for this.

A pulse of pain filled him and he sank lower, gritting his teeth. Hold it together, idiot. He'd have to get Moira to up the dosage next time. He fell to the floor, his legs giving out beneath him and disintegrating. The pain was unbearable and he let go, welcoming the change. He settled on the floor like a low-hanging mist. Like black fog, except he was alive. He could not escape the pain even in this state, but it was lessened.

Far too soon, he had to return to his human form and find someone to give him enough energy to hold up for another day. He lay where he was for a minute, then he pulled himself to his feet and jumped out the window, his disintegration allowing him to land without injury. He saw a lone boy, walking the streets. Good enough for now.

He gripped the boy's chin.
"Look at me," he said, struggling to keep his voice even; he was starved. Tears ran down the child's face as he stripped the boy of his soul. A scream rang out and he disintegrated, easily absorbing the life he'd just taken. People flooded the street a minute later, and he floated out of the light. The alarm was sounded when they discovered the body and a watch was set. He returned to his human form and shadow stepped into the middle of a group of guards, letting loose with the death blossom, the only sounds those of dying men and shotguns blasting. He finally stopped, when the dead were all around him, and he took their souls. Life surged through him and he no longer felt the pain of staying in one piece so strongly. He let a laugh escape, and he strolled out of town, and sped his way home on the winds.

The Talon base loomed up before him, the only "home" he knew now. He stopped and stood in front of the door.
"Sombra, it's me. Let me in." The intercom crackled.
"Ah, ah, Gabe! Read the sign, no entry without the password. Come on, I know you're not that messed up in the head." He growled at her, "You know it's me, now let me in!"
"Password, Gabe."
He growled the password, and the door opened, allowing him to walk in. Sombra was rolling on the floor laughing her head off. He picked her up by the front of her shirt and shoved her up against the wall.
"Hey, hey, easy there, Gabe or I'll tell Moira you don't need your meds anymore." He dropped her as he lost it again and disintegrated.

In his quarters, he rematerialised and pulled his mask off, coughing hard, his face twisted in pain. He fell to his hands and knees, still coughing, and blood dripped onto the floor. As the fit subsided, he wiped his mouth. That can't be good. Moira walked in, tapping the door once. She glanced at the floor and at him.
"Well. Seems like we need to up your dosage. You shouldn't be coughing blood." She motioned for him to sit on the bed.
"But other than that, how is your mission going?"
He shook his head.
"She's left the country. Russia, someone said. The town's decimated." He coughed up more blood. "I don't even remember what she looks like and I can't hold one form for very long." Moira tsked and paced around the room a few times, hands clasped behind her back.
"Well. See me in my lab after you get cleaned up a bit and we'll up your dosage." Her voice adopted a sinister tone. "And I'll refresh your memory concerning this mission." She opened the door to leave, but paused. "I'll see you in thirty minutes. No more, no less. Understood?"
He nodded and she shut the door.

He washed his face and changed his clothes, not bothering to clean up the blood on the floor. There were other stains there, to mark his "progress" as Moira called it. Some blood, others not. He found it hard to breathe and spent a good twenty minutes getting to Moira's lab, having to stop every few feet and gasp for air. Another coughing fit overtook him outside the door of the lab and he left a crimson splash there, on his knees, hacking his lungs out. Moira opened her door a few minutes later, and, seeing the gasping, bloodstained man there, picked him up by the back of his short and stood him on his feet.
"Inside and sit in your chair. I'll up your dosage and you won't be coughing so much."
He did as he was told, the pulse of pain beginning around his heart. Moira picked up a large syringe.
"Shirt off."
He pulled it over his head. She found a vein and plunged the needle deep inside, emptying the contents of the syringe directly into his bloodstream. Almost instantaneously he could breathe easier and the pain became just the hard pounding of his heart. Something in his mind clicked, and he felt almost human again, just sitting there breathing. He sat there for a moment, then Moira handed him his shirt.
"Put it back on. I'll see you in the debriefing room in three minutes. No more, no less." She left.
He pulled his shirt over his head and then a bad feeling hit him like a freight train. Flashes of memory played through his mind, loud crashes, explosions, gunfire, a beautiful woman, and darkness. He felt a crushing presence on his chest and tried to rip his shirt off, afraid it would crush the life from his lungs. He heard sobbing in his head, screaming, someone was yelling, "No, I can save him! Jack, let me go!"
His head began to throb and he clutched it with both hands.
Moira slapped him upside the head and the screaming stopped. He looked up at her, afraid. He knew what she did to him. He knew all about her. She did not look pleased.
"Get up, and get to the debriefing room. You have a mission you don't seem to remember about."
He obeyed her, keeping as far behind her as she'd let him. 
In the debriefing room, she pointed to a chair.
"Sit."
As he sat, she pulled out a folder.
"Your mission. Find Angela Ziegler and bring her to me. You are not to kill her. If she is in any way harmed, I will do exactly the same to you." He opened the folder. The picture of his target was the woman in his mind. He looked up at Moira, confused.
"I-I, I, I know her," he faltered.
"I know who she is," he continued, "she's not a criminal. Why do you need her?" Moira put a hand to her temple.
"Ugh, the treatments are lasting less and less every time. I really hoped I wouldn't have to do this today, it disturbs the others. But you leave me no choice." She pushed a button and restraints snapped around his arms, making him jump.
"Moira? What are you doing?" He watched as she stood and walked around to him.
"I'm refreshing your memory, dear." She smiled, not at all a comforting sight.
"You see, you don't seem to want to forget that you're not Gabriel Reyes. You really won't stop at anything to get your angel back, and I'm trusting that to ensure you won't kill her when you inevitably capture her. But I can't have you getting attached. So you have no choice but to forget her completely." She pushed him back in the chair and looped a restraining band over his forehead.
"Sit tight, Reaper. This will only take a minute."
He heard electricity crackling near his head and Moira shoved something into his mouth.

She watched him convulse with a detached indifference. Something had gone wrong in Phase 2, he shouldn't have these memories. He should be the Reaper and only the Reaper. He finally found his voice and she turned on the soundproofing. Sombra didn't do so well with this kind of noise. And, really, who could blame her? It wasn't as though Moira enjoyed it either. He was sitting there, writhing in the restraints, screaming through gritted teeth, and she didn't care for the whole pain and suffering part of this procedure but until she figured out something a little more permanent that didn't require a lobotomy, this was her best bet. She checked her watch. If this were a standard treatment she would turn it off in thirty seconds, but since those hadn't been holding very well, she'd leave it on for another two minutes.

The pain and noise stopped suddenly, and all that was left was the throbbing headache he had. He felt something slip off his head, and heard a few metallic clicks and he slid to the floor in a sobbing mess. A sharp kick to his side silenced him.
"Stand up," a sharp female voice commanded him. He stood, his breath shakily threatening to start him crying again. The redhead slapped him across the face.
"Hold it together, idiot." She put a folder in his hands, opening to a picture of a blond woman.
"See her? I want you to bring her to me, alive and unharmed. She's in Russia. Bring her to me alive and unharmed and I'll reward you however you want. But if there's one scratch, one bruise, no matter how small, I will do to you ten times worse. Coughing up blood will be the least of your worries if she's hurt in any way. If you want to ask around for her, her name is Mercy. If that doesn't work, ask for Angela Ziegler. Do not harm her whatsoever. Do not kill her. Bring her to me. She will be useful for the next phase of Talon."
She took the folder away.
"Am I understood, Reaper?"
His voice surprised him with its rasping hoarseness.
"Understood."

(I'm sorry if this was too dark, or triggering. I don't intend to make the whole book this dark and I'm sorry if this was offensive to anyone, it won't be a regular occurrence in the rest of the story.

But thank you guys so much for reading the story this far! I hope you liked it, and I hope you'll continue to like it as I update! Thanks for reading!)