A Ko-fi reward for Anonymous who requested a McSombra drabble with McCree taking care of Sombra while her implants went haywire. Thanks for the hot cocoa, doll! I hope you enjoy this very angsty piece!
McSombra. 500 word drabble. Angst. Hurt w/o the Comfort.
She said it would only last 24 hours. Not terribly long. There were some missions that went on for nearly a week which felt endless and entirely too much, like at any moment a bullet would find his heart. This will be over with quickly.
On top of their bed, lying on her stomach, Sombra’s entire body tenses and occasionally, twitches. Her breathing is labored, heavy. Even as he sits beside her, stroking her hair gently as to not cause more pain, he stares at the implants along the top of her spine. The slightest touch, even of fabric, hurts her back. The rest of her nerves are burning and sending out signals that really shouldn’t be there, but it’s all part of the risk she took with giving herself the latest tech.
He can only tuck the sheets around her bare sides and back. Not even a bra touches her chest as she struggles to contain the agony currently attacking every inch of her person. For her, the world is on fire, and he can only breath on the flames.
Sometimes, her implants overwork themselves, or she does, or both. This triggers a system shutdown, but Sombra changed the code. When this occurs, her implants go off into a restart mode, cleaning up everything. In this process however, it goes off course from its purpose, and unintentionally harms Sombra. It only happens once every few years. This is the first time McCree witnesses her aching body.
It’s 3 AM. Only 12 hours have passed since she first collapsed. McCree has hardly breathed since then, carrying her to their bed where she tries to hide her small cries of pain behind clenched teeth. She at least managed to explain what was happening, but going to Mercy or even Winston is not an option.
She’s dealt with this before, and came out alive. Now, he’s with her. It can’t be as bad, she had said.
He wants to hold her. He wants to take her entire person into his arms and take every inch that is burning with malfunctioning pain and soothe it. Like taking the wrinkles out of a sheet. He knows every time she clamps down on her back molars she’s keeping her screams contained. He knows when her fingers curl into small, white knuckle fists, she’s not thrashing around as she usually would.
Pain is every bit a part of their souls as their own breathing, yet, his chest collapses at the sight of her tightly closed eyes.
He leans over, and presses a feather like kiss into her hair. His hands reach for her shoulders, massaging her skin. It doesn’t heal, or even lessen anything, but it’s a distraction for her to focus on. Working his thumbs carefully away from her implants, McCree watches the small outlines of backbone climb the center of her back. Scarred with those dark, glowing implants, he contains the urge to reach out and rip them off. As if they’re a leach draining her of every piece of life.
“Olivia,” he murmurs. If she hears him, she doesn’t give any indication. “It’s almost over, darlin’. Hold on.”
He continues to work his hands along her olive skin. A cold hand of fear seizes his threat, but he swallows against it. She’s still here. He can’t lose her.
“Hold on, honey,” he breathes.
Comments are closed.
~My Tumblr Back-Up And Stuffs~ 