#turtlesunshine

Summary: Short drabbles about the many times Octane fell for Wattson during the games and out of the games. Rating: K-T Relationships: Octane/Wattson Tags: Fluff, Humor, Octane being dumb, Wattson being a cinnamon roll 

Something was off, she could tell. Normally, Mirage was boisterous and overly cocky during the fight but not today. He was very quiet, gaze distant, and his reactions were slow, resulting in numerous syringes being used and a curse from Wraith. He was not himself and it was concerning. Even Pathfinder had picked up on the mood change, asking if he was alright. The robot’s only response was a laugh, a lame excuse of ‘not enough sleep’, and a shrug. Accepting his answer, Wraith turned on her heel and continued up the path, alert for any remaining squads that may try to intercept them. She’d deal with him later.

You’re in their sights-- 

“Move!” With a quick shove, Wraith knocked Mirage behind a rock, taking the shot that was meant for him, a hiss of pain under her breath. Luckily it just scraped her arm, blood beginning to stain her uniform. “That was too close.” Assessing that Mirage was fine, minus the initial shock, Wraith turned to look for Pathfinder. He was also safe, a nod sent their way, weapons drawn and ready. A soft voice brought her attention to the man at her side. 

“Renee, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing, just barely a scratch.” With a shrug of her own, she offered him a meek smile. “More importantly, are you alright?”

“Uh, did you forget that you’re the one who took the bullet? I mean, knights in shining armor are cool and all, but you don’t have to lay your life down for me. I woulda been fine--” A stern look from her caused him to falter, the charade dying on his tongue.

“You know what I mean, Elliot. You’ve not been yourself his whole time. You’ve not even cracked one joke at Pathfinder or myself. You’re usually in the front lines, mocking those you knock down. What is bothering you?” A soft hand landed on his shoulder, hoping to comfort not push away. Honestly, she may not have been the best choice for a heart to heart, but Mirage and Pathfinder were her closest friends, and she wanted to at least try to help. 

The hand on his shoulder sent warmth throughout his body and a flutter to his heart. Obviously they’d been close to each other on multiple occasions, even touched before if stabbing each other with syringes and dragging the other out of combat counted, but this… This was different. She was willingly touching him, reaching out to him, and here he was… just staring at her. Get it together, Elliot! Clearing his throat, he began, “Ah, well you know, things have happened that I didn’t really prepare for. Kinda slipped my mind you know? I should have paid more attention, the signs were there, and lately she’s been slipping more and more--” 

“I’m sorry to bother you, friends, but we have a squad incoming!” The robotic chirp brought them back to the reality of the situation. 

Another battle won, the trio came out battered, bruised, and exhausted. It was quiet on the dropship, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Mirage, Wraith, and Pathfinder all sat together, the turbulence jostling them every once in a while. 

“Friends, I am going to get some more medical supplies for your injuries. I shall return.” 

A grateful smile was given to the MRVN, watching as he disappeared around the corner, seeking Lifeline. Wraith really enjoyed Pathfinder’s company and constant positivity. They worked well together as a team and they could usually get out of a sticky situation. At first she was skeptical, but he gradually wormed his way in and she was glad he had. Mirage was a different story. He was loud, cocky, and too confident for her liking yet he consistently chose her, chose to be on her team, trusted her and listened to strategies. Wraith would brush him off, ignore him, even snap at him occasionally but he always stayed. He was always there and with time, her defense began to fall and he slowly edged in, earning his place right next to Pathfinder. She trusted them. Turning to face Mirage, she began, “About earlier--” 

He was asleep, arms crossed on his chest, head slumped forward. A small smile then fell across her lips as she watched him. Looking at him like this made him seem so vulnerable, a softness gracing his features. In the quiet of the dropship, not another legend in sight, she raised a tentative hand, brushing the unruly, mussed brown waves off of his forehead, his brows scrunching together at the contact. Withdrawing her hand, she went back to silently observing.  It was then that the voices caused a disturbance, making her wince, palm gripping the side of her head. 

Don’t deserve him, too unstable, too dangerous--

“No, that’s not rig--” A groan was heard, her eyes squeezing shut. It was no longer quiet, the voices seeming to amplify every sound around her, the steady rumble of the dropship, footsteps echoing in the hall, even Mirage’s breathing sounded eerily loud. Another hand came up, tugging at her hair, “Stop, not here, not now…”

Unbeknownst to her, Mirage was awake having heard her speak and her restless movements. Immediate concern washed over him, hand reaching out to touch her, “Renee, are you alright?”

He’s too good for you, you’ll never be enough--

Recoiling like he had burned her, she stood from the bench, breathing heavily and sweat dripping down her brow. “I- Sorry.” Turning on her heel she raced from the lounge, unsure of where she was going. Quiet, she needed somewhere quiet, somewhere to recollect herself, away from him so the voices would stop. No one bothered to stop her, instead watching her dart down the hall, unsure of what had happened. 

Mirage was left confused, not sure if he should follow. His gut told him no, but even further down, something was pushing him to move. Standing, he began his pursuit after the shifter, ignoring the stares and whispers of the other legends. He’d find her, he’d make sure of it. 

When he found her, she was a crumpled mess in a desolate corner, barely visible in the dim lights. She was shaking, fingers tangled in loose raven waves and her breathing ragged. His heart ached for her. Slowly he approached, his steps light in hopes not to startle her or cause her to run again. “Renee,” he began, continuing to speak to her when she didn’t respond, “Renee, look at me.” 

Run, danger, move--

Pale eyes snapped open, fear and uncertainty rushing through her veins as she searched for the danger her voices spoke of. Once her gaze landed on him, she was back on her feet, looking every bit like a cornered animal ready to run. He wasn’t supposed to find her, see her in such a weak state. Why had he followed her? “Why’d you follow me?” She hadn’t intended to sound as harsh as her voice projected but it was too late now, his momentary flinch catching her attention. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

Wraith was angry, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out-- and he was by far anything but. “You’re probably right and judging by the atmosphere, I’d say you’re not exactly looking for a shoulder to cry on. Not that I’d ever complain or mind you know, if you really needed it--” You’re rambling again, Elliott. The more he spoke, the deeper her brows furrowed, annoyance beginning to roll off her in waves. Not the right approach…  Clearing his throat, he tried again, “Look, something is wrong with you, I know that much, and whether you like it or not, we are a team. We look out for each other, in and out of the games. We’re friends, Renee. Please, talk to me.” Poking at an angry Wraith was never a good idea, he knew that, but he had to try. 

Cares for you, don’t let him see you weak--

Another wince, the voices prodding at her subconscious. Mirage was being sincere, his heart on his sleeve out in the open for everyone to see. She’d never let anyone in before, never had anyone that cared for her well being in such a way. She was used to being alone, always taking care of herself with just basic survival skills and just enough to get by. Why did he care so much? She was messed up, unexplainable, and barely even knew herself. Why waste your time on something that was broken beyond repair? Voice barely above a whisper and so very fragile, she answered, “Why..?” It was all beginning to tumble down, her walls, her defense, her brave and stoic facade. He was going to see the shattered woman beneath the tough exterior and she couldn’t stop it. “You shouldn’t waste your time with me…”

Watching her unravel before him was like seeing her in an entirely new light and she couldn’t have been more beautiful to him. Her hair was a mess, uniform still dirty and stained with flecks of blood, and the way she was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth was slightly distracting. “Like I said, we are a team, me, you, and Pathfinder. In the games, out of the games, we care about you. If something is wrong, we try to fix it. Which is why I’m here, because I care about you. I want to help you. You mean a lot to me-- I-I mean us! Yeah, us!.” The way her eyes widened slightly caused a slight flush to fall along his cheeks. Had he said too much? What if it all backfired and she didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Why was it so hard to talk to her as Elliott rather than the fake facade of over confident Mirage? Smooth, way to go, Elliott… 

He was nervous now, the flush evident on his cheeks and his weight shifting between his feet. The way he was speaking to her was almost endearing and the voices in her head began to quiet, eyes softening as she studied him. How had he managed to calm her so easily? How had he managed to quiet down the turbulence within her mind? In all honesty, she had no idea, but one thing was for sure, she didn’t deserve him. He was too pure, too light for her own personal darkness to taint, but he was always there. Here, in the games, in every dimension she’s portaled through, he’s always at her side in some way. 

“Renee, say something, please? You’re not gonna kill me are you?” 

The nervous lilt to his voice brought her back to reality and before she could stop it, a smirk spread across her lips with a soft chuckle on her breath, a lone tear trailing down her cheek. “You’re an idiot. A persistent idiot.” 

Not quite the answer I was expecting but I’ll take it-- wait, why was she crying? “Er, thank you?” Was it a backhanded compliment? He couldn’t tell but he let bygones be bygones since he got her to smile and not kill him like the many scenarios his mind imagined. Lifting a hand, he scratched the back of his neck, dark eyes still on the small woman before him. “Are you okay? Is something still bothering you?”

With a shake of her head, Wraith took a deep breath before exhaling, hand wiping away the evidence of her turmoil. “No, not any more. I’m fine.” Thanks to you. Taking a spare hair tie off her wrist, she began trying to tame the mess of hair that had fallen loose and fix it back in the signature bun she always wore. “More importantly, are you? You mentioned something earlier on the field.”  

“Oh, yeah, that--” Now he was once again caught in her piercing stare. She was breathtaking. “I, well,” just tell her. “My, uh, my mom’s been sick and lately it’s only been getting worse. I’m all she’s got left and I’m not sure how much time we have before…” His voice trailed off then, eyes anywhere but on her and hands limp at his sides. 

What a cruel game death played. 

Once the bun on her head was secure, Wraith listened as he spoke, arms crossed under her chest. Family, something she didn’t have or remember having. Repeating her earlier gesture, she laid a soft hand on his arm with a slight frown, “I’m sorry.” Situations like these made her awkward due to the fact that she barely had enough people skills to make it through, and comforting someone was still new territory. 

The warmth of her hand was felt through his jumpsuit, his gaze softening as it landed on her, his own hand covering her own. Mirage knew she struggled in a social environment, but her even trying to remotely comfort him was more than enough. “Thank you,” he responded, letting his touch linger a moment longer before pulling away, heart fluttering in his chest. The smile he gave her then was brighter than ever, his old antics already sliding into place. “What'd ya say when we get back, drinks are on me? I feel like we could use it after today. And who could say no to spending time with me?” A wink was sent her way and she merely rolled her eyes.