2053: 20 years before the modern day.
For an organization that placed itself firmly under the UN's thumb, it sure as hell broke a lot of rules. And he didn't mean Blackwatch break the rules. He meant children in the government building break the rules. He didn't protest so much with Fareeha. She was a toddler when Ana joined Overwatch, and the second-in-command wouldn't even consider not having her young daughter visit while she was stationed in Gibraltar. Usually accompanying her father, Fareeha filled the usually-sterile hallways with laughter.
Reyes didn't even pretend he wasn't charmed by the little girl.
But then he was the one bringing the kid in. Sporting a bullet wound to the ribs, Reyes had dragged the half-conscious teenager to the infirmary himself. When Jack protested, Reyes held up a dark hand to him, "After everything we've been through, just give me this one."
The Commander of Overwatch sighed in exasperation, but looked between Reyes and the cowboy with a finality, "You'd risk Blackwatch for him?"
"Blackwatch needs him." He didn't tell Jack his bullet wound was Jesse's doing, and that nobody had caught him like that with a ballistic weapon in his entire military career. He was too swift, too careful, but Jesse had sharp eyes. And with training, he could prove to be a useful asset to Blackwatch. He was too young and reckless to show anyone loyalty yet, especially not the Deadlock Gang. Reyes would teach him loyalty.
Jack had protested more, but in the end he conceded and didn't regret it. Months later and the kid picked up Blackwatch tactics like he'd been born doing them. Reyes felt a sense of pride, but that was usually quickly squashed when Jesse opened his mouth and said something stupid.
The last time a kid entered Watchpoint: Gibraltar was when Torbjorn brought Angela Ziegler to work with him. All Reyes knew about her was that she was a Swiss university student and that Torbjorn's wife had practically raised her. He didn't acknowledge Torbjorn's news much save to wonder out loud why Jack was allowing college kids to just stop by for personal calls.
Torbjorn crossed his meaty arms, not intimidated by Reyes at all. Reyes kept his focus on a tablet in his hands displaying the Los Angeles Dodgers' most recent scores. The Swedish engineer piped in despite Reyes's disinterest, "She's not a child, Reyes. She's eighteen and a doctor. She expressed concern with my recent injury and wanted to look for herself."
Reyes raised an eyebrow at that, "Thought you said she was a university student."
"On her second medical doctorate."
The Blackwatch Commander whistled in surprise, "Must be some university student. But Overwatch doesn't have visiting hours, Lindholm."
The engineer rolled his eyes, hurumphing in offense but Reyes paid no mind. He said all he was going to say on the matter. He wasn't Overwatch's Commander so it wasn't his call.
-0-
Jesse McCree was charming. She knew men like Jesse many times in her life, but he lacked that predator's grin and the bad intentions. Even as suave as he tried to be, he was tripping over himself trying to property greet her in introduction. He straightened his humorously large and decorated hat and spoke slang she didn't understand.
Torbjorn stood idly by, arms crossed as she shook hands with the cowboy. He didn't seem to trust Jesse much, it having something to do with him only being attached to Overwatch for a few months. Something about this man's past made Torbjorn wary, so Angela kept her greeting prim and polite.
Jesse asked her a million questions, mostly about her experiences as a doctor. Leaving out the gory details, she explained how she was able to academically achieve what she had at such a young age. She was happy that he seemed to genuinely care. What was such a kind soul doing attached to a military organization?
She noticed his attire was decorated in reds and blacks, with a strange owl logo presented on his outfit. He certainly didn't look Overwatch. She chose not to let the topic slide, "Your logo. I've never seen that one before. Was that your old gang?"
Both Torbjorn and Jesse seemed to silence at that. Jesse opened his mouth to reply, but came with nothing, "I, er…"
"He works for me, not Overwatch," the group was interrupted by an angry presence, "You're twenty minutes late for drills."
Jesse sheepishly tipped his hat, "Sorry boss, I was just askin' the lady a few questions."
"I didn't mean to keep him," Angela smiled softly at the large man in the hallway. He was intimidating and radiated danger, but she tended to attract to those who demanded respect. She understood them. Everything, from his olive skin to his clearly enhanced physique, told her that this was Gabriel Reyes.
He leveled her with a look, a mixture of confusion and interest. She didn't know what he could possibly find interesting about her. Those amber eyes snapped to Jesse and the gunslinger stood to attention, "Get going, kid."
"'Of course, boss," Jesse gripped Angela's hand, "Nice to meet you Miss Ziegler."
She smiled, but her tone was matter-of-fact, " Doctor Ziegler."
"Right, doc. You've earned that one," the cowboy grinned at her and headed past Reyes, down the hallway to another sector of the building. Angela noticed he never answered her question about his outfit.
Now Reyes stood before her, clad in armor of the same colors with that owl skull on his arm. Something about his posture made her decide it was best not to ask too many questions. She was simply a guest here, after all. She smiled at the man again, ignoring Torbjorn's noticeably sour demeanor, "Commander Reyes-"
"Just Reyes, doc."
That nickname wasn't her favorite, but she would choose it over miss , "Alright, Reyes it is then. I've read quite a bit about you. It's nice to see the man that comes with the stories."
"Nothing too classified, I hope," his tone was so dry, she couldn't tell if he was joking. She was suddenly struck by how handsome he was, even with the hood of his jacket pulled up. He had sharp features, naturally so that didn't come with just age. Scars littered his face and the olive of his skin brightened his amber eyes. Beneath his hood, she could just barely see dark hair swept back out of his face. With the red and black that decorated him, he was the personification of fire. But not the kind that kept you warm. The dangerous, explosive kind that burned and burned until there was nothing left. Plasma , not fire, she supposed.
The happiness in her features dulled the longer she looked at him. She considered that it might seem rude to look at a stranger in such a way when Torbjorn interrupted her thoughts, "Angela, Reinhardt's waiting in the infirmary to see you. Poor man's been tidying it up all day. Think he's trying to impress you."
She smiled, looking from Reyes to Torbjorn now, "Yes, we mustn't keep him waiting. It was nice to meet you, Commander Reyes." She held out her hand and he took it without hesitation. His was large and warm in hers. She let go almost as soon as they touched. Practically yanked away by the man who helped raise her, she glanced over her shoulder slightly at him as he retreated down the hallway after Jesse.
-0-
The cowboy was going to do 300 push-ups until his arms fell off. Whichever came first. Reyes watched, glaring out at the sun over the training yard as his prodigy continued the arduous drills. That would teach him for even considering being late again.
When Jesse was done, sprawled across the grass like a panting animal, he looked at Reyes through sweaty hair, "What's got you so distracted, boss? Usually you're getting' a little more fun outta my misery."
Reyes shrugged a shoulder, squinting at the sun again, "Nothin' kid."
Overwatch wasn't meant for kids. But Fareeha wasn't just a kid. She was the only daughter of the best sniper in the world. An Egyptian tactical genius that earned her place as second-in-command and sacrificed the potential for a life of safety and security with her family for their cause. Jesse wasn't just a kid. He was the greatest sharpshooter Reyes had ever seen, had reflexes like a rattlesnake and the wit to match. Not that he'd ever say that out loud to inflate the brat's head. And, Reyes thought as he watched the feeble clouds over Gibraltar attempt to cover the sun, Angela Ziegler wasn't a kid.
He pointedly wouldn't think about how she physically radiated maturity. He was having a hard enough time under her stare, he didn't need to bother himself thinking about how a woman who'd clearly seen war and had a sharp mind could also end up looking so...so…
Forget it, he scowled to himself. But he couldn't forget it, not really. It wasn't that she was beautiful. Which she was, but again, don't go there, Reyes. It was the fact that she looked at him with those wide blue eyes and she saw something that made her sad. He didn't know what it was, but he saw the light in her dim just slightly. What did she see?
He glanced briefly at his own hands, ticking off the different scars and marks in his mind. How he got each one. The scars he couldn't remember getting. The old, nearly-hidden scars from back in Los Angeles. Suddenly, he roughly called Jesse over and the cowboy trailed after him hurriedly as he stormed inside.
It didn't matter what she saw. He would make sure nobody ever saw it again.
-0-
2058: Five years later.
John Morrison, introduced to her as Jack, invited her to Overwatch personally. Perhaps he knew that Ana customarily didn't radiate warmness and that her invitation should have a more personal quality. He was charming, handsome, everything the United Nations wanted Overwatch's leader to be. They thought it would make them seem more friendly. To Angela, it made her hackles raise that much more. Barely into her twenties and head surgeon at the hospital, her time was cut evenly between high-stakes surgeries and nanite research. She was on edge with her own hospital. The investors and certainly the Swiss government were unwilling to properly fund her research, no matter how many times she proved it could save lives. The Omnic Crisis made people scared of advanced technology. What if the nanites became sentient, they reasoned. No matter what she said, she couldn't convince them the impracticality of those fears.
She wasn't afraid of technology, even when the Omnic Crisis took her own parents, but she was cautious. And imagine her caution when she elbowed her office door open to face the Commander of Overwatch standing near her favorite painting with an avid curiosity.
He turned to her, blonde and blue-eyed like her, looking far too innocent for the leader of a military organization. She chose not to protest that he was in her office uninvited, instead keeping a neutral expression as she set down her paperwork on her desk along with the mug of tea she was desperately trying not to spill earlier, "Commander Morrison."
"Jack is fine, doctor."
She was reminded of her last encounter with an Overwatch leader. The man with pain under his skin. The last time she saw him was almost five years ago, when Reinhardt insisted the Commander join them in a photo when he was once again trying to pry Jesse away from her. The cowboy stood behind her, grinning, but his commander stood as far away from her as he could, frowning at the camera as she smiled. His darkness was profoundly noticeable in the room. She wondered why he radiated so much anger. From what she'd heard about him, he was a good soldier and a good man. Yet...something was different about his demeanor.
She looked at Jack instead of thinking about it, forgetting Gabriel Reyes once more. At least Jack didn't call her doc. She gave him a strained, uncomfortable smile, "Why are you here, Jack?"
It sounded more familiar than she'd meant. It sounded slightly more fearful than she meant. But Jack grinned, "Overwatch isn't scared of nanites, Dr. Ziegler. The United Nations isn't scared of spending, either. You can stay here, keep doing those open heart surgeries...or you can join us and prevent hearts from ever getting weaker."
"My research...it will be classified…" her argument was weak and Jack picked up on it. He could tell how much she wanted this.
"Groundbreaking technology has to start somewhere. In your case it's in Gibraltar. Can I count on you?" There it was. She pressed her lips together tightly. There was the ultimatum.
In the end she didn't need to give him a verbal answer. The sigh she let out was enough of an agreement for him.
-0-
Watchpoint: Gibraltar was different when she saw it this time. Instead of wide and wondrous and new, she saw steel and unfamiliarity. It was the feeling of standing in your new, empty apartment. Only it was a medical research wing the size of her old hospital.
"Dr. Ziegler?"
She snapped out of her thoughts, looking away from the window overlooking the Spanish bay. Well... aSpanish bay. The window was just a projection. She turned fully away from it to look at Jack. He looked concerned. She didn't understand why he should care at all. She was still a stranger.
She blinked, pushing the thoughts and the fears and the worries away. This was her life now. Twenty-three and the head of medical research at Overwatch. She grimaced, thinking of the potential for her research to be used to hurt instead of help. But she was placing her cards in Jack's hands out of desperation. Without funding from the UN, she would never see her research come to light.
She didn't like the way Jack looked at her, like she was precious and fragile. She hardened her features, "I'll let your agents know where to put my things. Let us begin, Jack."
-0-
She wrung and wrung her hands, rinsing them over and over until they were clean enough for her liking. Unpacking the wrapped apple she'd carried to work from her room, she began eating her snack when the mess hall was greeted by another presence.
She didn't know much about Blackwatch. The men and women who wore red and black with secrets in their eyes. She knew they were killers, didn't have to guess as much when she took part in treating them. However, she had no access to their files aside from medical basics. Blood types could only tell her so much. She didn't know a thing about them and they operated only a wing away from her in Gibraltar.
She chose to fill the silence, "Commander Reyes."
He nodded to her, hyper-focused on the tablet in his hands. The voices coming from it were American ones, drowned out by cheers. She could only assume he was watching a sport of some kind.
She glanced down at her notes, mostly prepared for her budget proposal for Jack and the UN. Jack had assured her she would be approved for anything she wanted provided she could give a proper reason. He also asked her to ease up on the science lingo. She snorted, picking up a pen to continue writing out finances. She wouldn't be 'dumbing down' her research so men in Valentino suits could understand everything. She was going to save lives, that's all that they needed to understand.
She couldn't help but glance up at Reyes, though she knew he could see her looking. Let him know. She wasn't ashamed of assessing him. Jack, in all his friendliness, had been too busy to properly introduce anyone to her. Most of them were out on missions or in the Blackwatch wing she was forbidden from anyways. He'd apologized, saying he would make up for it when he could. She'd assured him, once again , that she was perfectly capable of social cues despite her age.
She didn't know if the Overwatch Commander was just trying to be friendly or if his intentions were to manipulate her into becoming a more enthusiastic member. God forbid he was trying to be fatherly . Like Reyes, Jack was around two decades older than her, though the Soldier Enhancement Program prevented them from aging as much.
She nearly jumped when Jesse entered the room, bursting through the silence like a twister. He gave her an award-winning grin, the happiest anyone in Gibraltar looked to see her. She blinked in surprise as he strolled over and slumped into the chair across from her.
"This seat taken?"
She grinned, "You're already sitting, Mr. McCree."
"Please, Mr. McCree was my mama's favorite bartender. Call me Jesse, doc."
"Only if you call me Angela," she grinned again and he conceded with the tip of his hat.
Jesse looked at her paperwork curiously, fussing over the fact that all she was eating was an apple. She found that she rather admired him, though his personality far contrasted her own. He was sunshine and wits while she was cold and quiet at times. She knew from his medical records that he was the same age as her, possibly a reason for his eagerness to get to know her. From what she could tell, he was being innocent enough. He didn't dare make an advance or so much as hit on her.
In the middle of trying to convince her to eat something with meat in it, Jesse noticed the other American in the room, "Hey, boss! Damn, you sure are spooky hidin' in the corner like that. I didn't even know you were here."
Reyes didn't even look up from his tablet. She noticed he wasn't eating anything, "That's my job, kid."
His dryness seemed to amuse Jesse, "Gee, I guess that's true. You watchin' baseball again?"
"Yeah."
Angela couldn't help the grin on her face. Despite whatever made him so tragic underneath, the man had a really dry sense of humor. Something she knew was rare of Americans. Jesse noticed her stifled giggle, "Look at that. I'm just tryin' to be a conversationalist and you're giving me one-words. How rude. And you're laughing," he feigned hurt, looking at her accusingly.
She couldn't help it, she really couldn't. Moving to Gibraltar, packing her life away, and writing all these proposals within the span of a few days had fried her nerves and her normal cold defensiveness was down. She bit her lip, but it barely stifled the full laughter she let out. At Jesse's mock pout, she only laughed more. She hadn't laughed like that in years and years.
When she was calm again, save for the occasional giggle, Jesse was giving her a dopey grin. She just barely caught Reyes's eyes as he glanced back down to his tablet uninterestedly.
"Wow, doc, didn't think you had it in you."
She smiled, far too amused to be offended that he thought her incapable of laughter, and stood from the table with her paperwork. Jesse followed her, offering to give her a proper tour around the base as best as he could remember. She took her apple with her, pleased to finally have some warmer company.
-0-
Reyes watched her leave, long forgetting the baseball rerun on the tablet. It wasn't her fault that she was interrupting his ritual of essentially hiding in the mess hall during empty-hours and watching sports to reminisce about Los Angeles. It wasn't her fault he hated Europe. The spanish wasn't even the same here.
A few days in and she was already a dramatically strange presence in the Watchpoint. He heard Jack practically wax poetic about how smart and determined she was. Ana wasn't there at the moment to keep the peace between them, so he couldn't help a snarky comment about Jack having a crush on the pretty doctor. Jack had retorted without a beat, commenting that he never said pretty . Those were Reyes's words. He scowled, knowing that Jack had him there.
He tapped off the screen, back to the classified documents he was looking over. He rolled his eyes, exasperated with himself. Overwatch was changing. When it was founded during the Omnic Crisis, nearly fifteen years ago, soldiers were the only agents needed. The UN hired the best, sparing no expense to recruit agents like himself, Jack, Ana, and Reinhardt. Engineers like Torbjorn would come soon after. During the Omnic Crisis, when their orders were simply kill-or-be-killed, it was simpler.
Now, the UN wanted a peacekeeping organization. While not against the secret projects of Blackwatch, Overwatch was meant to be saving the world at face-value. Now, they had the diplomats like Gerard, the graceful socialites like his young wife Amélie, and other agents who brought different backgrounds and personalities to the organization. Jack and Ana had argued that it made them more varied, more appealing, but his view was that it made them more vulnerable and less organized.
He would eat those words later when he brought Jesse in. The kid was an incredible shot, but he was Deadlock and far from your ideal soldier. Reyes knew that if Jack and Ana had shared the same mindset that he did, they would have never allowed Jesse to join.
Now, their head of medical research was a Swiss prodigy who stifled her giggles. He'd honestly never heard anyone laugh so freely like that in Overwatch. He didn't truly know what she knew of war and pain and violence, but those that did typically couldn't bring themselves to even smile. Reyes grimaced, not sure if he welcomed such a presence.