"Yes, Jack, the girls and I are going out."
"Ana, we're fugitives. You can't just go out in public like this."
"Yes we will." She responded "It isn't good for morale to keep everybody locked up in here."
"Absolutely not." Soldier 76 put his hand down on the table.
"Reinhardt knows the place. It's a small town in Germany with nothing else around for miles.. The locals are rather fond of him. I don't think they'll give us any trouble." She said.
He sighed. "Fine. Make it quick. In and out."
She shook her head. "This isn't a mission, Jack. Maybe you should take a break as well."
"No. Not this time. Someone needs to stay behind and keep things in order."
"Maybe next time." She let out a small laugh as she went for the door.
"Wait." He said.
"Yes?"
". . . bring me a souvenir."
"Of course." She smiled.
Ana walked to the room where the other four girls had gathered. As she entered, she did another count of heads. The invitation to go out was extended to all the Overwatch girls; so far, only Tracer, Pharah, and Brigitte had responded. They were wearing their best street clothes, and were waiting anxiously.
"Good news, girls. We got the go-ahead." She addressed them.
"Yes!" Lena jumped up and down. Her scarf bobbed as she did so. "Let's go to the jet! It's already prepped."
She immediately blinked off in the direction of the hanger. The other girls followed at a slower pace.
When they arrived at the hanger, they expected to see Tracer already in the cockpit. However, she was standing in front of the open door.
"What's the hold up?" Said Pharah.
"Well, we have, uh, another member to our party?"
They walked forward to look into the jet. Sitting against the empty wall was Bastion. It waved happily to them.
"Bastion! What are you doing here?" Brigitte ran forward. "You're supposed to be in papa's workshop."
It looked away for a second, perhaps in regret, before returning its gaze and giving another happy beep.
"Sorry love, but we're gonna use this jet." Tracer blinked up to Brigitte's side.
"You can't leave base." Pharah said stiffly as she walked in. "Get out."
It whined in protest.
Ana came in and put a hand on Pharah's shoulder. "Easy, Fareeha. Don't upset it."
"Bastion, love," Lena tried again, "We're going to a place. We're going to use this jet so we can fly there, so you can't sit here, unless. . ."
"Unless?" Brigitte asked.
"Unless you want to come with us?" She finished.
Bastion let out a series of enthusiastic beeps and nodded its head.
"Absolutely not." Pharah replied. "We can't have a Bastion unit roaming the streets of some small town. That's dangerous, for both it and the townspeople."
"Well, if it kept out of the town. . ." Ana mused.
"Why does it want to come, anyway?" Pharah gestured to it.
"I think Bastion's just bored." Brigitte responded. "It's been sitting in papa's workshop for a while now. Maybe it should get a chance to stretch its legs a bit? It might make papa happier for it to be less antsy all the time."
"I think that our girl's day should be all inclusive." Tracer said.
"But, Bastion doesn't have a-?"
"Enough." Ana said. "Bastion?"
The Omnic looked up at her.
"If you wish to come, you must follow these rules." She continued. "You must stay out of the town. There is forest outside of it that you can explore. Am I clear?"
It nodded.
"Alright then." She finished. "Now, Lena, would you pilot us to our destination?"
"Yes, ma'am!" She saluted before blinking up to the cockpit.
"Fareeha, Brigitte, please put on your seatbelts."
"Yes, ma'am." They both replied.
"Fareeha."
"Ahem, yes mom."
Ana laughed heartily before sitting down and strapping herself into one of the seats on the wall.
"Oh, wait!" Brigitte sprung out of her seat.
She quickly grabbed some bungee cords and secured Bastion.
"Okay, go ahead." She walked back and sat again.
Pharah glanced at her handiwork and giggled slightly.
"Would you rather it be sliding around the cabin?" Brigitte replied, then laughed at the thought.
Bastion imitated the giggle, which made Ana laugh.
"I have a feeling we're going to have a good time." She said. "A little bit of girl time, and hopefully, a little mother-daughter bonding time?"
"Ugh, mom." Pharah jokingly replied in stereotypical teenager fashion, then laughed.
They continued to banter as the jet took off.
They landed in partial cover of the forest. The jet cloaked as soon as they touched the ground. The ramp that came down was the only indicator the jet was there. Out walked Ana and Pharah first, the latter checking her makeup in a handheld mirror before putting it in her purse.
Behind them zipped out Tracer.
"Hey, Pharah, could you carry the keys?" She asked.
Pharah turned and grabbed them from her hand. "Of course."
"Don't lose them! They're the only way we get home. Unless we want Brigitte to have to hotwire the door."
"No kidding."
Brigitte walked down the ramp, followed by Bastion.
"Anyway," she continued, "are we ready to go?"
There were nods from all around. Ana, however, walked through them and waved Brigitte aside from the Omnic.
"Bastion, remember: Stay in the forest." She said sternly, before softening. "We'll be back in three hours."
It nodded, then began to look around. The ramp closed behind it.
"Let's go, girls." Ana waved them on.
"Woohoo!" Tracer zipped forward through the trees.
"I wonder what shops there'll be?" Brigitte wondered.
"Hopefully some makeup stores." Pharah responded. "The lipstick I'm wearing is just about out, and it's my last bottle."
"I haven't worn makeup in years. You'll have to doll me up sometime." Ana reminisced.
"Same!" Brigitte laughed. "Me too. Your makeup is excellent, Pharah. You have to teach me!"
"Sure, if you can catch me on a day off, I'll show you." She shrugged.
"That means you'll have to take a day off, dear." Ana teased.
They were able to see the town after coming up a small hill. It wasn't any different than how Reinhardt described it. It was a charming German town, not dissimilar to Eichenwalde, but instead teaming with life. People walked from building to building, chatting, shopping, living.
Tracer blinked back to the group.
"You won't believe it! It's a total tourist town. Open markets and shops galore!" She grinned.
"Well, if you've already seen the whole town, where do we start?" Pharah jabbed at her.
"Oh, well, I saw- hey, I didn't ruin all the fun! Anyways, there's an open market that looked really cool just over here. . ."
They followed her, conversing casually along the way, as girls do.
Bastion watched them walk off before turning to the forest around it. It picked a direction at random and began walking. The sights and sounds looked vaguely familiar. Bastion didn't know where it was; its navigation systems were long since broken. However, it did not care where it was.
It quickly lost itself to the sights and sounds of the forest. Birds chirped and, if Bastion stayed still, flew between the trees above it. Flowers dotted the forest floor, bright dots of color that contrasted the heavy green of the underbrush. Mice and other small creatures scuttled about underfoot, rustling the leaves as they went by. Bastion took great care not to step on them.
Bastion did not realize where it was going or how long it traveled until a faint signal popped up on its HUD. Bastion paused, and hesitantly accessed it.
In an instant, on its HUD, popped up a map of local terrain. A trail popped up, leading through the mountains. A familiar alarm rang. A message appeared.
50 kilometers to Stuttgart.
Bastion recoiled backwards and the system shut off. Anxiety spiked through it and it felt its power core heat up, as if in preparation for combat.
It turned away, running the opposite direction. It diverted all excess power from its secondary systems and redirected it to its motors. It crashed through the trees with no regard for the damage it was causing.
Bastion's systems turned themselves back online after some time. It didn't know how much time had passed. Or where it was. It had a faint idea of where the jet was and started walking that direction.
It found nothing. Every clearing seemed to hide an invisible jet. It could not find the one that did. It checked every one, just to be sure. It eventually stumbled across a large clearing, a very large clearing, with a big hill blocking the rest of its vision. It then realized that this was the edge of the forest.
Bastion hesitated. Ana told it to not leave the forest. She looked very clear about that. Slowly, it stuck a foot out into the grass. Then the other. Bastion felt very bad about this, before another worry took ahold of it. What if they had already left? With all the gaps in its chronometer, it had no idea if three hours had passed.
Feeling urgent, Bastion hurried into the field. It trodded up the big hill before pausing at the top.
Over the ridge was a town. A small town. It hesitated at the top. Towns meant people. Not Torbjorn, or Brigitte, or even Commander Morrison kind-of-people, but people. People screamed and shouted and threw things at it. It didn't like that.
However, it did not like the idea of being left behind here, so close to Stu- the place not to be named, so it made its way to the town
Nobody noticed the Omnic sneaking into the town, least of all the lonely shopkeeper of a handmade crafts store. He was a simple man; he enjoyed nothing more than to tend to the store and to craft all day. His wife chastised him for hardly ever going outside. How could he, when the things he could create were so much more entertaining than people?
However, if he had heeded his wife's advice, he may have noticed the unusual customer before it entered.
"Hello." He greeted the sound of the automated doorbell without looking up from his current project. "If you see anything you like, feel free to-"
A small beep responded to him. He looked up. He froze. Immediately, he ducked out of his seat and crawled up behind the cash register
He began to shake. This was it. He closed his eyes. The Omnics, they knew he survived, they had come back to get him. He clasped his hand and whispered faint prayers.
Boop?
He opened his eyes again, only to immediately regret the decision. The Omnic was leaning right over him, its hand grabbing the edge of the counter. He jumped, smacking his head.
God, he had just given himself away. He heard the giant, pounding footsteps round the counter. He felt the vibrations through the floorboards. He squeezed his eyes shut again.
Doo whoo.
He kept his eyes closed. He wanted the Omnic- the Bastion -to make it quick.
Woo?
Despite everything inside him telling him not to, the shopkeeper peeked an eye open. He flinched, then opened both.
He was not staring down a barrel of a turret, or even a rifle. Instead, there was a hand. A hand, reaching towards him. And behind that, a Bastion.
The Bastion gently waved its hand, and beeped curiously again.
The shopkeeper glanced to the Bastion's side, where its gun arm was hanging limp. He then glanced to its optic. It was unlike how he remembered from the war: a calming blue instead of blood red.
The shopkeeper sat up and gazed at its hand for a while, before holding out his own hand. He brushed his hand against its before flinching and pulling back. The Bastion remained steady. He slowly reached for it again, this time touching fingertips. The Bastion hummed softly. He slid his hand into its.
Suddenly, the Omnic pulled him up off the floor. He nearly screamed. But when he was standing again, the Bastion let go.
Bwooop. Beep beep.
It backed off, then started looking around the store. The shopkeeper backed against the wall, but the Bastion paid no regard to him and began to walk around. It first walked with agency, as if it was trying to find something, but slowed down over time, taking time to admire the shopkeeper's work. It walked through rows and rows of woodwork and crafts, taking surprisingly good care not to bump or break anything in the narrow aisles.
It stopped in front of the snow globe cabinet. The shopkeeper couldn't help but smile as the Bastion, with a delicate hand, picked up a snow globe and looked inside. It cocked its head slightly, then put it down again and moved on.
Slowly, the shopkeeper crept out from behind the counter. He knew what he was doing was potentially suicide, but, if the Bastion wasn't hostile so far. . .
"Hey." He said quietly, trying to get his voice to work properly.
The Bastion turned around suddenly. He flinched. Maybe he had made a mistake, maybe-
"Well, uh, you see-" He stumbled with his words.
The Bastion approached him, humming.
"-With the snow globes. . ." He picked one up, holding it out in front of him like a shield. With shaking hands, he flipped the globe upside down, then back upright.
The Bastion came even closer. It leaned in, its optic shining blue into the glass of the snow globe, watching the white particles swirled around inside of it.
"See?" The shopkeeper smiled weakly.
The Bastion sat up again. It grabbed another snow globe from the case, its hands carefully grasping the base as to not crush the hand-blown glass ball. It repeated the motion, flipping the thing upside down. It held it there until all the white particles gathered at the top of the sphere. It then flipped it back, and watched intently as the particles fell back down again.
Wooo.
"Well, if you like that." The shopkeeper put the snow globe on the shelf and walked to another aisle.
The Bastion followed. When it arrived, he held up a music box.
"See this?" He turned it around in his hands. "If you turn this crank. . ."
He cranked it several times and opened the lid. Music spilled from the box, and out popped a little wooden figurine that rotated as the song played. The song was an upbeat German tune, and the figurine was a boy and girl waltzing.
The Bastion watched for the entire duration. About halfway through, the shopkeeper could see its head begin to bob along with the music. This made him laugh slightly.
When the song finished, the Bastion hesitated for a second before holding out its hand. The shopkeeper gently placed the box in its hand, and it held it, getting a closer look at all the details. The shopkeeper smiled, thinking of all the hours he put into making it. The box was one of his favorite creations.
The Bastion held out the music box to him. He grabbed it and put it back on the shelf.
"Is there anything else you want to see?" He asked the Omnic. "I have plenty of things to show. It's been a while since anyone's been this interested in my work."
They made there was around the shop together, the Bastion pointing something out and the shopkeeper getting the souvenir down and showing the Omnic how it worked. This went on for some time.
However, the shopkeeper heard voices outside of his windows. He flinched, looking around for places that the Bastion could hide but found none. He scrambled to the door, but it was too late.
The automated doorbell rang as the door opened. Four women walked in, chatting.
"It- it's not what it looks like!" The shopkeeper called out to them.
They stopped in there tracks when they saw the Bastion. Oh no.
"Please, this, this is very strange, I know-"
"Bastion! Love?!" The short-haired woman said with a thick Cockney accent.
"You aren't supposed to be here!" The long-haired Swedish woman walked straight up to the Omnic. The Bastion looked away from her gaze.
The shopkeeper looked at all of them. "Is this- um, your Bastion?"
All four of the women turned to him. He rubbed the back of his head nervously.
"We're so sorry this happened." The Swede said. "Did Bastion break anything?"
"Or injure anyone?" Said the young woman with an interesting tattoo on her eye. She looked very serious.
"No, actually." The shopkeeper responded. "It didn't cause any trouble."
The oldest woman approached him. "This won't happen again."
The Bastion let out a very sad noise. The shopkeeper looked back to it.
"It's wasn't a problem. It was more polite than a lot of my customers these days." He said.
"Really now?" The British woman looked around, then back at the Bastion. "That's good to hear! Well, not about your other customers, but-"
"We should get it out of here, before more people see it." The women with the eye tattoo said sternly.
"A good plan, Fareeha." The older woman nodded to her, then glanced around the shop. "However, this might be a good place to pick up a souvenir. . ."
"Please, look around." The shopkeeper said. "Everything here I have made myself."
The older woman strolled in and out of the aisles, and the other three girls soon distracted themselves as well. The Bastion followed them, pointing to things which it liked.
The shopkeeper then heard a little bell ring. The older women was standing by the checkout counter. He walked behind it.
"What did you decide on?" He asked.
She held out a small wooden bowl.
"Back in the day, the person I'm buying this for used to keep little candies on his desk." She said. "For the children, you know. I was thinking he might do that again."
The shopkeeper nodded and began to ring up the bowl. He was almost done when he heard a familiar beep. The Bastion was standing by the counter as well, holding the music box in its hand.
"Hey, bring that back! That's not yours!"
The Swedish woman marched up to it, wagging her finger. It whined in response.
Before the Swede could snatch the box out of its hand, the shopkeeper took it, and put it in the bag alongside the bowl that was being purchased.
"How much will that cost?" The older woman said as she pulled out her wallet again.
"For the Bastion," he looked into its optic and nodded, "it's free."
"Are you sure? Don't be intimidated-"
"I'm sure." He said firmly. "It's a gift."
Bastion beeped happily. The shopkeeper smiled back. He then handed the bag to the older woman.
"Thank you," she said, "for your kindness and for your trouble."
"It was nothing, really-"
"And for not calling the authorities." The younger woman with the tattoo interrupted. "That's at least one headache we don't have to deal with."
"So how are we going to get Bastion back to the jet?" The British women put her hands on her hips.
"I'm sure we can manage." Said the Swede. "After all, it found a way in here without getting noticed."
The shopkeeper glanced out the window. "The evening rush hour begins soon. You might want to hurry."
The group began to walk towards the door, the Bastion following. They talked quietly so the shopkeeper couldn't hear.
"Goodbye." He called out to them.
They turned around.
"Oh, goodbye! And thanks! I hope your business does well!" Said the British one.
The Bastion waved to him as well. He imitated the wave. The women walked out the door. The Bastion hesitantly followed.
As the door shut, the shopkeeper went up and flipped the "open" sign on the window to "closed". He then locked the door and lowered the window shades. He went into the back room, where the majority of his crafting tools were, took a large chunk of wood, and began to carve.
In a couple hours the creation began to take shape. The shopkeeper knew that no one else would understand the significance of it. They might even be frightened by the image. A couple days ago, he might of been as well.
It was a statue of a Bastion holding a music box.
"Here you are, Jack." Ana said, then set something on his desk.
"What's this?"
He picked it up and inspected it. It was a small wooden bowl.
"Perfect for candy, don't you think?"
He laughed,for the first time in a long time.
"I thought you would like it. A local craftsman made it." She replied.
"I'll put this to good use." He said.
She began to walk out of the room.
"I trust the outing was without incident?" He asked.
She paused. "No. Nothing at all."
She closed the door behind her. Down the hall, she could hear the faint notes of music.
