Archive of Our Own ^beta

This is the first time in weeks they've been alone together.

Granted, it wasn't something they tried to make happen. In fact, Loba made concentrated efforts to make sure she was never left alone with him. Bangalore had been more than eager to be an escort for her since they've become allies and she eagerly took her up on her services. Gibraltar was friendly and willing to be a sunny buffer, so he worked well to keep the peace even if she wasn't sure how to respond to his near-constant positivity. The… weird one, the one known as Octane worked in a pinch, but she always had to plan for the possibility of him darting out at a moment's notice.

But she couldn't plan for all scenarios. Sometimes, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and no matter how well she kept track of his movements or where the other legends were, Lady Luck found another way to shove them together.

And now, Loba wasn't entirely sure what she should do.

"You can take a picture of me if you want to. It'll last longer." The metallic growl of Revenant's voice echoed through the tiny kitchenette, louder in her ears than she’d like it to be. It’s audible through the roar of blood pounding through her veins and her teeth clenched as she resisted the urge to draw her gun. Remember Loba, she told herself. You’re working together now.

Unaware of the fury thrumming through her, Revenant continued to watch the sunrise. He was facing the window, his back to the doorway and every glossy surface of his chassis glistened with the colors of the sun. Oranges, blues, greens - they were all reflected in the metal from where he stood facing the glass. It’d almost be pretty, if it was anyone else but him.

Loba eyed him up as she slowly stepped into the room, each step measured and careful like she expected to backpedal at any moment. She didn't peg him as someone who liked to watch sunrises - Not that she thought about what he liked in the first place - so this was… new. Casual.

She didn’t know if she liked it.

"I think I'm good," Loba retorted. "I've seen enough of your face in my lifetime." The kitchenette was as spotless as always, but she could tell someone's been in it already. A full coffee pot was set to the side, and a pan laid scrubbed clean in a drying rack next to the sink. Most legends were still asleep at this time, barring the ever elusive Bloodhound. They must have had an early breakfast, she thought.

The simulacrum huffed. It's such a human gesture that it throws her off for a second, glancing back at him to double make sure he didn't just blow out his voice box for fun. "In your nightmares, Loba?" The sickly sweet tone of his mocking was tempered, just a bit, by exhaustion. It's enough to tear Loba in two, eager to bite back at him with her usual fire but curiously baffled by how a glorified refridgerator could be tired.

It's a struggle, but she settled for something somewhere in the middle of the two feelings. After all, they're supposed to be... allies now, aren't they? Ugh. The thought of it is enough to get her skin crawling.

"Sounds like you're the one getting nightmares now, demonio." Loba's words are curt, teasing. There's coffee brewed on the counter and she's quick to pour herself a mug of it. It's fresh and fragrant. Someone must have splurged on a good roast this time and just made it. "Didn't get your beauty sleep last night? I didn't think you could sleep."

"I don't." Metal clinked against porcelain, and she looked over her shoulder at Revenant - just to make sure he's not sneaking up on her. He makes a striking silhouette against the morning sun, but he's still facing the window. Hmph. Good. "I have a sleep mode, but it's... not sleep. Not like how you sleep."

"Then why do you sound so tired?"

The silence that comes afterwards is so thick, she could spread it on her lips and wear it out on the town. What a color that would be! She'd be setting a new trend.

Then - "I'm reminiscing."

Loba blinked. Oh. She didn't like this trend anymore. There's not much she can say to that - that she wants to say to that, so she glanced away and sipped at her coffee. It's deliciously bold and perfectly spiced - she was right when she guessed someone got the good kind this time around. Not to mention, it was brewed to perfection.

But a good cup of coffee wasn't about to keep her here. The door's not that far away, she thought as she eyed it up, close enough that she could easily flick her bracelet through it and disappear in a flash before Revenant could even notice. It'd beat sitting here as the robot slid ass-backwards into a pity party after all.

It's a solid plan. One she can commit to, and she quietly pulled her bracelet up her arm before the thing spoke again.

"I used to love this time of day. Back when I was human." Shit. She was too slow. Loba's eyes slid closed in frustration and her bracelet slid back down her arm. This was her life now, she fucking guessed. "I was always an early bird. The morning is quiet, no one stirring just yet. The sun... was beautiful."

"It still is," she replied dryly. "You talk about it like it's gone, but you're looking at it right now." The counter is far from the most comfortable place to lean on, but she'd rather throw herself out the window before she'd sit at the table next to Revenant.

Her words are amusing to him, somehow, and he huffed again. There's the sound of steel against porcelain again, but this time it's scraping, like someone was dragging a mug lightly against sheet metal. "I savored it before, back when I thought it might be my last. But not anymore. Knowing that you'll always be around to see it, day after day after day after day... it doesn't hit the same anymore. Now it's just mocking."

The gears in his arms whirred quietly as he raised up a hand, metal fingers furling and unfurling as he stared at them. She stared too, if only to make sure he wasn't about to twist and jab them into her chest. "My old apartment had a biiiig old window right in the dining room. I used to get up early, make a nice breakfast, and sit and watch the sun come up as the news came on. It was the best part of my day."

It's hard to tell if he's serious. Loba never took the time before to try to study and decipher the low drawl of his words before, to try to find the smallest change in inflection to read his mood because why the hell would she? She wanted him dead!

But... it's hard to miss the wistfulness under his drawl, the tiniest lift of his voice that spoke of fond memories and how he mourned for them.

It's uncomfortable. Loba has never felt more like a wolf in a trap and the concept of chewing her own leg off to escape became more and more appealing.

"Do you like the coffee?"

"What?"

Revenant turned his head, just enough so she could see how the yellow lights shrunk to pinpoints to focus on her. "The coffee. Do you like it?"

It took a moment, but it dawned on her what he meant. The horror and disgust Loba felt must have spread to her face, because he laughed as she dropped the mug on the counter. "I didn't poison it if that's what you're thinking," Revenant called out, the drawl of his words stripped of their wistfulness. "Why would I? We're on the same side now, aren't we?"

"Why the hell would you even make coffee?!" Loba spat out. There's a puddle of coffee on the counter now and a growing stain on the palm of her gloves. That's fine, whatever. Her gloves can be cleaned a lot more easily than the rest of her outfit. "You don't even drink it!"

The simulacrum turned away from her again, a low hum crackling out of his vocal processors as he went back to watching the sunrise. "Because it was part of my morning routine and I was good at it. Did you know, for my first job, I was a barista? I never quite shook my taste for coffee since then, even when I got into the killing business." Metal clinked against porcelain again, and Loba glanced over just in time to see him lift a full mug of black coffee off the windowsill and swirl it in his hands. "I'd put on a pot of coffee, put bread in the toaster to cook, and fry up some bacon, and then two eggs in the grease - pepper it, garlic salt it, fry until solid on one side, ten seconds on the other." Revenant brought the mug up to his face, almost like he was sniffing it. It almost looked like he was going to take a sip, but then he lowered it back down to the sill.

"Applewood," He said, staring out at the sun wistfully. "My favorite kind of bacon was applewood smoked, bought fresh from the butcher. I had it every morning, even when I was fake and I didn't need to eat anymore - but my mind didn't know that. I still believed that every morning could be my last, so I ate my favorite meal, just in case. Programming is one hell of a drug, Loba."

The silence is back, thicker than ever. It's thicker than coagulated fat grease now, and just as appetizing. It's sticking to Loba's skin like it was real and solid and suddenly, she felt like she should go shower for the second time that morning. It's disgusting.

"Why are you telling me this?" She demanded, her voice low and just above a whisper. "You know I don't care. Are you trying to get me to get me to pity you? Because it won't work -"

"Why would I want your pity?" Revenant's voice cut through hers, much rougher and much louder. "Your anger and hate is worth more to me than your pity."

He's infuriating. He's a bucket of blood covered bolts and there's nothing more that she wants to do than melt him down into a new pair of earrings. "Then why?" Loba hissed out through gritted teeth.

The simulacrum scoffed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the windowsill. "You act so offended, like I'm dragging you by the short hairs into this. You're the one who interrupted my breakfast."

And then it hit her.

The fresh coffee. The clean pan. The story of watching sunrises, thinking it could be his last...

Loba doesn't know what to say. Her jaw worked in mid-air, words evaporating on her tongue in the morning sun as she watched Revenant's back, completely unable to figure out what she wanted to say. Could she say anything? Something has to be said. "We-" The words caught in her throat and she swallowed before trying again. "We don't know if we'll find your source code when we land today." It's ineffectual, her words falling from her lips only to land limply on the ground, devoid of gravitas.

"I know." He knows. He knows, and it amused him. She could hear it in the way he talks.

God, she hated him so much. Revenant backed her into yet another corner and left her speechless and unable to function. Loba thought she was prepared for anything, but this? There's nothing that could prepare her for this.

But this isn't a battle to be won. There's nothing to win here, because the outcome of their war has already been decided. No ground to gain, no new wounds to carve - nothing for her to grasp and own as hers. As Revenant said, she was the one who interrupted his breakfast.

"You're just wasting our food," Loba mumbled as she strode for the door. "Don't leave it out for us to get bugs, demonio."

"Don't worry princess, I'll clean up after myself."

She's not one to look back at things after she's committed to leaving, but for once, she couldn't help herself as she passed through the doorway. Revenant didn't budge from where he stood staring out the window and the morning sun made him look more peaceful than she would have ever expected. And there, tucked between his elbows was an untouched plate of bacon and eggs, glistening in the light.