The rain had stopped for once. The sky above the glass atrium was a muted silver, clouds stretched thin and harmless. It almost looked peaceful, the kind of day Geneva rarely offered.
Shawn walked the corridor to the psychological division, his boots echoing against the tile. The Overwatch insignia on his chest caught the morning light, a gleam of something that didn't belong to him anymore.
He hadn't seen Gabriel Reyes since before the infiltration began. The thought of meeting him now, knowing how many secrets sat between them, made something cold settle behind his ribs.
The door ahead bore a simple brass plate: Lt. Commander Gabriel Reyes – Tactical Oversight / Evaluation Wing
He knocked once. The door slid open with a soft hiss. Gabriel sat behind a desk near the corner, glasses perched low on his nose. He wasn't reading paperwork, he was waiting. The faintest smirk crossed his face when he saw Shawn.
"You're late."
"Traffic," Shawn said dryly.
"There's no traffic underground."
"Then I'm just out of excuses."
Gabriel gestured toward the couch opposite him. "Sit. Adawe's orders. First of your weekly evaluations."
Shawn looked at the couch with black leather, oddly out of place in a room lined with field reports and gunmetal filing cabinets. "You went for the therapist aesthetic."
Gabriel smiled faintly, adjusting his glasses. "I find it disarms people. And I don't mean with bullets."
Shawn sat, sinking into the leather. It was surprisingly comfortable. Gabriel leaned back, studying him.
"You look tired."
"I've been working."
"Working or pretending to?"
"Same thing these days."
Gabriel chuckled, opening a small notebook. "Let's start simple. How are you feeling?"
Shawn stared at the ceiling. "Alive."
"That's not the same as okay."
"I didn't say it was."
The older man sighed, scratching something in his notes. "Adawe told me you're handling the Talon assignment better than expected."
"That's one way to put it, I guess."
"How would you put it then?" He asked leaning forward a bit.
Shawn's gaze flicked toward the window, where the pale light filtered through. "Necessary."
Gabriel's expression didn't change. "You sound like her."
"Maybe she's finally rubbing off on me."
"Or maybe you're rubbing off on yourself."
Shawn glanced at him. "That's not a sentence I wanted to hear."
Gabriel laughed softly, then grew serious. "We both know why I'm here, Shawn. Adawe wants to make sure you're still you."
"I'm still me," Shawn said. "Just with more reasons to hate the mirror."
Gabriel tapped his pen against the notebook. "Then let's test that."
Gabriel's tone shifted now a bit lighter, like a teacher posing a riddle. "You're on the field. Two civilians trapped under rubble. You can only save one before the structure collapses. One's a child. The other's an engineer with knowledge that could save a thousand lives. Who do you pull?"
Shawn didn't hesitate. "The child."
"Why?"
"The child hasn't had the chance to make mistakes yet."
"Interesting. So innocence over potential."
"Innocence doesn't rebuild the world, but it remembers what the world's supposed to be. Plus, who's to say the child won't have the same knowledge the engineer has eventually."
Gabriel nodded slowly, scribbling. "Next one. Same scenario, but this time it's a soldier, someone from your team, or the child."
Shawn took longer to answer this time. "The child."
"Even if it costs you morale?"
"Morale doesn't matter to the dead."
Gabriel's pen stopped. "You sound certain."
"I am."
He leaned forward. "And if it's one of your team versus the child, and the mission's success depends on the soldier?"
Shawn's silence stretched long. "Then I'd hate myself either way."
Gabriel nodded once. "Fair answer."
He flipped a page. "Here's another. You're cornered. You can throw yourself on a grenade to save six others, or step back and live, knowing they'll die. Which do you pick?"
Shawn gave a faint smirk. "You know my record."
"I want to hear you say it."
Shawn's gaze met his. "I'd take the blast."
"Even if it meant ending everything you've worked for?"
"That's the point, isn't it? To make the end mean something."
Gabriel watched him carefully. "Adawe's worried your sense of meaning is turning into martyrdom."
"It's not like I'm trying to be that way, its just that some roads take that path." Shawn explained.
"Is that the reason for some of your more hasty decisions. Like joining Talon without any prior warning or clearance." Gabriel asked.
"You and Adawe of all people should know the cost of trying to save someone who doesn't want or know that they need saving." Shawn countered.
They sat in silence for a moment. The hum of the air system filled the space. Gabriel's glasses reflected the light as he studied Shawn, searching for cracks that weren't visible to the eye.
Gabriel leaned back, setting the notebook aside. "Let's try something different. No right or wrong answers, just reactions."
Shawn folded his arms. "Sure."
"A good man does a terrible thing to prevent something worse. Is he still good?"
"No. He's necessary."
"Would you rather be necessary or good?"
Shawn hesitated. "Necessary."
"Why?"
"Because goodness doesn't mean that you save anyone. It just means that you're constricted."
"Neither does necessity if you lose yourself."
Shawn's jaw tightened. "That's the hard part. Making sure that you don't fall apart."
Gabriel watched him for a long moment. "You sound like you already have."
"I don't have the luxury of falling apart."
"Then what keeps you together?"
Shawn's eyes flicked down to his gloves. "The job."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I've got."
Gabriel exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You remind me of myself before I learned to stop trying to save everyone."
"How'd that go?"
"I stopped saving anyone."
They both laughed quietly, but it didn't last long.
Gabriel stood, walking toward the window. His reflection blurred against the glass, half man, half shadow.
"I'm supposed to ask if you've experienced hallucinations, paranoia, or dreams related to the mission."
Shawn shrugged. "Define dreams."
"The kind that follow you when you wake up."
"Then yes."
"What do you see?"
"Faces."
"Anyone specific?"
Shawn looked away. "Everyone I didn't save."
Gabriel turned, folding his arms. "You think that's guilt or conscience?"
" Basically the same thing."
"Maybe once," Gabriel said. "But guilt eats you. Conscience teaches you."
"Then I guess I'm still learning."
Gabriel smiled faintly. "Adawe was right. You're a stubborn bastard."
"Comes with the rank."
The commander picked up his notebook again, flipping to the last page. "Last question."
"Make it good."
He met Shawn's gaze. "If you had to choose, kill one person to end a war, or don't kill that one person and it continues, what would you do?"
Shawn didn't answer right away. His thoughts drifted, to the serum, to the Meret soldiers, to Cain's voice in the dark. The war wasn't over. It had just changed shape.
"I'd end it," Shawn said finally. "No matter what it takes."
Gabriel's expression softened, approval and worry tangled together. "That's what I was afraid you'd say."
"Why?"
"Because people who'd do anything to end a war usually start another."
Shawn looked down. "Maybe that's what peace costs."
Gabriel sat beside him, removing his glasses. "And if peace asks for you next?"
Shawn didn't look up. "Then I hope she has good aim."
The evaluation ended quietly. Gabriel closed his notebook and stood, stretching the tension from his shoulders. "That's enough for today. Adawe will want a full report."
"Be gentle."
"I'll lie for you if I have to."
"Appreciated."
As Shawn stood, Gabriel caught his arm. "You're still in there, you know."
"Where?"
"Behind all that armor you wear as a person."
Shawn forced a smile. "I'll take your word for it."
As he left the room, the older man watched him go, expression unreadable. When the door hissed shut, Gabriel sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"Still in there," he muttered. "Just barely."