when you become untouchable {Vigilante | Adrian Chase}

Problems began the moment Peacemaker was handed his gun, and he realised it didn't have a Dove of Peace on it, the same way all of his personal weapons must have had.

"Get me a Dremel -" you offered in the face of Chris's rising frustration, the only one willing to tolerate his antics in this moment.

"Do I look like I have a fucking Dremel?!" He hissed back furiously, clearly not thrilled with your suggestion. Harcourt flatly offered to get a marker for him to draw one on, but Chris still didn't exactly seemed pleased with the solution; "the most important part of killing someone, at least to me, is the goddamn Dove of Peace! Can you even draw a Dove of Peace?" He demanded to know from you.

It takes you a moment to suggest pulling one right from his memories, that you could draw with one hand and hold his hand with the other to get it perfect. While he hesitates for a moment, by now he seems willing enough to trust you, which is honestly more than you got from anyone else these days.

So that's how you find yourselves while the others, the ones who 'weren't potential liabilities' got the rest of the site and it's equipment set up.

Chris lay in the grass, one hand behind his head, the other resting in the space between the two of you, while you pulled your gloves off, his sniper rifle in your lap, something jabbing your back pocket that you ignore for the time being, and the marker beside you.

Taking his hand, his life and memories rush over you. While you'd done this before with Chris, to stitch up his wounds the other day, the memories always feel fresh. There's a moment of genuine shock as the newer memories include you, wanton and breathless and stark naked between him and Vigilante, but at least his thoughts were complimentary, if incredibly vulgar. It was more that you'd never get used to seeing yourself in that situation from an outside perspective. Still, you tried to ignore those and focus on the other Doves of Peace from his weapons.

Technically you could just take the memories of the Doves no longer need to be in contact with him, but there's something about this moment, this cool afternoon and him relaxing in the sun, holding his hand and drawing a pretty decent Dove on his rifle, that would probably be very nice if you weren't all here to commit murder. Something about the way Chris was perfectly content in this moment for you to hold his hand, happy for you to have free reign on his memories and experiences, no shame and with complete trust. Even Harcourt took years to develop that kind of trust. Despite his reputation and attitude at times, you were genuinely glad to be able to call Chris your friend.

Harcourt finally joins you both when you're handing over the rifle, and Peacemaker's giving begrudging compliments about the last-minute Dove addition. It pitters off into general small-talk before Chris asks you if you've been around this area before.

"I'm usually not allowed in Washington," you mused, knowing you still had a long time to wait before the targets to arrive, "especially not this part, considering the amount of important people that live within, like, a ten mile radius of here," you gestured towards the targets' house, "Senators and stuff, you know? But isn't it beautiful -"

"I need you to be like forty percent less Disney on this stakeout," Harcourt rolled her eyes at how you'd chosen to phrase the factoid about yourself, "why are you even out here, shouldn't you be in the van with the others?"

"I hope not, there's barely room as it is," Economos's mutter comes through the line and you beam at Harcourt.

"And you're my favourite," you coo at her, voice syrupy.

"Tell us what you really think," from Harcourt's other side you hear Peacemaker's snicker.

"Seriously, Chaser, where are you meant to be- Murn," Harcourt goes back to her headset, "where is she meant to be?"