She almost disagrees when he says it. With how far back their enmity goes, how deeply set the reasoning is (she only needs to see it in Gabe to understand that it's as complicated as it is compounded), it's easy to picture paranoia getting the best of Jack— jumping at shadows and giving them names.
Reaper had been with her, he'd been fine. Strained, yes, but that's what this place does to you: sinks its claws in deep and tears for all its worth. When he'd left—
He'd left.
It's a clipped breath that catches in her throat, shock-raw and bitter as a stuck pill. It's like watching a pulled thread unravel all her well-laid plans, like that sickening, sinking second when her screens locked up in alarm - hacked at the height of her own game.
Her SMG slips lower as she falls back on her heels, sinking behind the outline of 76's shoulder by slow, careful degrees, instinctive habits stuttering where they start: she should be thinking of a lie, some way to cover for him, or—
no subject
Reaper had been with her, he'd been fine. Strained, yes, but that's what this place does to you: sinks its claws in deep and tears for all its worth. When he'd left—
He'd left.
It's a clipped breath that catches in her throat, shock-raw and bitter as a stuck pill. It's like watching a pulled thread unravel all her well-laid plans, like that sickening, sinking second when her screens locked up in alarm - hacked at the height of her own game.
Her SMG slips lower as she falls back on her heels, sinking behind the outline of 76's shoulder by slow, careful degrees, instinctive habits stuttering where they start: she should be thinking of a lie, some way to cover for him, or—
"He's one of us, isn't he?"