A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so of course I had to go for the biggest, most complex project I could have. I'm trying to tell my version of the story of Overwatch after Winston sends out the recall message. Of course, a large part of this fic is headcanon, as so many have to be, and it, in large part, disregards the limitations the heroes have in-game in favor of what I view as more potentially realistic limitations. Story-wise, this is going to be quite the broad story. Overwatch will be dealing with the emergence of Talon (which will be treated as, primarily, a very large, anti-Omnic terrorist faction), while simultaneously having to conceal the fact that they have reactivated from the IJC. In case you can't tell yet, this might be a very long fic.
I'm going to be working with three primary factions, as well as non-aligned characters, for this fic. These factions will be Overwatch (of course ;)), Talon, which will be treated as a large anti-Omnic terrorist organization, the IJC (which will not be a major faction and will not contain characters from the game) and various neutral characters. Following is a list of the factions and which heroes appear in each, for easy memory. Note that these factions only apply at the beginning of the fic, and are subject to change throughout.
Overwatch: Genji, Pharah, Soldier: 76, Tracer, Mei, Torbjorn, D. Va, Reinhart, Winston, Zarya, Mercy, Lucio
Talon: Widowmaker, Reaper (also will feature OCs of my own creation, mostly as operatives and leaders)
Neutral: McCree, Hanzo, Bastion, Junkrat, Roadhog, Symmetra, Zenyatta, Ana
Obviously, this will be a world-spanning story, but I intend to primarily follow the story of just a few characters, specifically Tracer, Soldier: 76, and Widowmaker, with occasional forays into other characters' viewpoints.
There will be multiple romantic aspects to the story, although due to both of them being main characters, Tracer/Widowmaker will be getting the most screen time, with other pairings to be shipped as necessary/desired. I haven't written much romance before, so bear with me and give me critiques if you feel it needs improvement.
Wow! Sorry about the long author's note.
TL;DR: First fic! Overwatch after getting recalled vs Talon. Mostly about Tracer, Soldier: 76, and Widowmaker, with a WidowTracer ship. Gonna be long. Hopefully, most of the author's notes won't be :P.
This fic is rated M for alcohol and drug use/abuse, graphic violence, profanity, character death, mental illness, and potential lemon. Trigger warnings will be posted before chapters with more intense occurrences.
Please review! The more reviews I get, the better I can make the story.
Winston's message goes out, and the world changes. For most people in the world, it's an unnoticeable change at the time, and one which they might not find welcome. For a few, of course, it is an immediate, notable change.
Each former agent of Overwatch, save one, receives a call, email, or message, based on the preference they'd listed long ago, back when they had originally joined. For all of them, it is a surprise, to some degree. The more politically aware ones are less surprised, having watched the slow erosion of everything they stood for, while those who had simply embraced their lives as ordinary (or perhaps relatively normal would be a better term, as Overwatch agents were seldom ordinary) citizens are more surprised. Of all those who receive the notification, most ignore it, or fail to heed the call. They are not cowards, or lazy, but simply those who believe that Overwatch's time has truly passed. However, some do not.
Japan:
A ninja sitting in a cherry tree, meditating calmly above the wreck of a Bastion-class Omnic sentry, is abruptly jerked from his introspection by an… insistence within his own mind. No ordinary human being could or would have reason to describe how the ninja feels the message coming to him, but few humans have undergone the degree of cybernetic reconstruction and enhancement that Genji Shimada has. He listens calmly for the few moments that the message takes, and then sits for a moment more, assimilating and considering this new event. Then he slides down from the tree, bows respectfully to the wreck of the Bastion for allowing him the use of its tree, and begins to lope off across the mountain peaks towards civilization, knowing that the cause he has sought so long has finally appeared.
China:
Mei-lin Zhou is running a weather simulation in her lab when the message comes in. She squeaks in surprise at the sudden pop-up on her desktop, then darts a guilty look around the room. Fortunately, nobody is there but her faithful drone companion to have heard her outburst. She listens to the message, then shuts down the simulation and picks up her phone. Her boss is more than willing to let her take some time off- after all, she is the best climatologist in China. She hangs up on Doctor Yung and immediately dials Beijing Airport. She needs to get on a flight to Gibraltar, and she needs to do it now. For once, her frequent uncertainty has deserted her.
Greenland:
An old man, sitting in a rocking chair in front of a fire, stands up and walks into his bedroom. He has to duck to get beneath the door. Straightening up, he looks into a closet. A suit of armor, scarred and worn, hangs above a carrying case. Next to it is a gigantic hammer. Methodically, Reinhardt Wilhelm begins to disassemble his armor and hammer and load it into its case.
Egypt:
The sentries standing watch at the Temple of Anubis are surprised when they see that Lieutenant Fahir is sitting in the commander's office. They are even more surprised to hear that it's because Captain Amari has taken leave for "at least a month, possibly more," according to the brief video she left with the lieutenant to explain to the troops. They wonder where she has gone that could be more important to her than keeping Anubis contained.
Sweden:
A Swedish inventor's workshop is unusually quiet for this time in the day. When his neighbors venture over, they find that it is, in fact, empty. They wonder what could have drawn Torbjorn away from his work, not realizing that what has happened is not that, but a call from a task that was once his labor of love.
Brazil:
A crowded club in downtown Rio is really rocking tonight. Lucio is in town, and he's dropped by la Rana Fumadores to pre-show his latest concert track. However, during the middle of a particularly intense track, he announces that he has to take a call. Not too many people even notice his announcement, since he leaves the track running and most are too busy rocking out to pay attention. Even fewer realize that he doesn't return, at least until the playlist ends. By that time, they're too tired to care, having danced for hours on end. They filter back to their houses, or in some cases other locations, without realizing that the concert tomorrow has been abruptly, if informally, canceled.
Russia:
On a military base near Saint Petersburg, Russia, a group of recruits stands up and comes to parade rest with a distinct feeling of relief. Starshiy Serzhant Zaryanova has been distracted by something. Those closer to her hear the buzz of her personal com-link and relax slightly. After all, if she is being paged by the Komendant, she won't be running their asses into the ground… without breaking a sweat. However, their relief is short-lived. "All right, shchenki. Get back on noses!" the hulking instructor growls. "I will be leaving for some time. However, Serzhant Golovko is taking over the training now." The recruits groan. If there is one instructor more ferocious than Zaryanova, it is certainly Golovko. Aleksandra walks off the parade deck, swings by her quarters, and picks up a box and a suitcase full of clothes. Within an hour, she is on a helicopter headed to the Mediterranean.
Korea:
Hana Song absently flicks her long, dark hair out of her face and takes a slug of NanoCola. She generally prefers Mountain Dew, but the terms of her sponsorship require that she drink it when live-streaming and it's not objectionable enough to toss that kind of money out the window. Her base is under a great deal of threat, but she has an ace up her sleeve. Her carefully hidden units of Stalkers suddenly appear to the side of her opponent's attack, and while he's reacting, her Mothership completes. Her opponent had banked everything on pushing before she could complete that, and his assault wave is utterly wiped out. She already has scouts pushing out along his line of advance when her link buzzes. Her streamers watch her face change from annoyance to surprise to excitement as the call proceeds, and then Hana Song does something nobody has ever seen her do before. She forfeits the game and walks away, shutting her computer down behind her.
Switzerland:
Doctor Ziegler steps into the surgeons' lounge with a sigh of unabashed relief and nearly collapses onto a sofa. The procedure had lasted for twelve hours straight, and had come right on the heels of a six-hour one, so she has been working for eighteen hours without a break. However, she finds it all worthwhile: two people who would certainly have been dead without her help will now live. Angela Ziegler does not count the cost when it comes to saving lives. However, she is only human, and finds herself mildly irritated (she doesn't have the energy to muster true irritation or annoyance right now) when her buzzer goes off, notifying her of… Her tiredness falls away and her eyes shoot open as she sees Winston's message. She stands up, and walks downstairs. Moments later, she is behind the wheel of her Mercedes, speeding off to the south.
Italy:
A soldier stands up from where he was crouching among the fallen bodies of a gang. This time, the gang's members are mostly lucky. They are almost all alive, although unconscious, and the soldier has been distracted in time for them not to awake handcuffed, with the police pulling up. Morrison heaves himself up a nearby gutter drain, crouching behind the wall atop the building as he considers the message. Overwatch recalled. A tide of emotions nearly swamps him- it would have, if it were not for his years of command experience. Memories of camaraderie, joy, sorrow, betrayal, anger, and hope flood his mind, and he battles to keep them in check. His discipline finally wins out. He is the first to respond to Winston's message, although he does not do so directly. Rather, he calls Athena, on the commander's encrypted line. "Athena, this is Morrison. Ensure this is an encrypted line and do not reveal that this conversation is happening. Authorization is Alfa-Niner-Zero-Three."
"Yes, sir," responds the AI. "Why are you calling me and not Winston?"
"I'm dead, Athena. I think, for the moment, it should stay that way. Do not show that I have accepted recall. Just slip me in as one of the rank and file."
"Yes, Commander Morrison. Your new identity is Soldier: 76. It should hold, and your story can be that you don't want your identity getting out because of the damage it could do your reputation to have rejoined Overwatch."
"Very well, Athena. I'm on the way."
England:
Lena Oxton tumbles out of her bed in a flat in London with a scream of fear. She fights the covers she's tangled in for a few moments. Her eyes finally snap open and she sees the walls of her room. The sheer relief in her face, which moments ago had been contorted with fear and desperation would be painful to look at if any could see it. Most people would not show such relief at seeing a flat inhabited by a twenty-six-year-old, and this one is no exception to the generally quite disordered norm. Most people, for that matter, don't wake up screaming, even from a nightmare. Most people have not lived their nightmares, though.
Lena has, and the horror of it is not just the experience she has been through, but the fact that she knows well how easy it would be for it to happen again. Even asleep, she wears her chronal accelerator. It's heavy and means that she literally cannot sleep in her once-normal position (flat on her belly, with her head preferably covered by pillows to block out the sounds of the morning world), but to take it off, except in her rooms at the various Overwatch bases, would banish her to living that nightmare forever. This dream has been particularly brutal. In it, she dreamed of the night just two weeks ago when she failed to save Mondatta… only this time, she caught Widowmaker's bullet. Her conscious mind will never forgive her for her instant, survival-based reflex dodge, but her nightmares do their best to remind her of what the other option was, and a part of her which is bigger than she likes to admit thinks that even saving Mondatta would not have been worth the cost.
She huddles in the middle of the floor, shaking, as the memory of the dream, and worse, the memories of the dream's basis, flood through her again. Panic holds her frozen for an eternity which actually lasts about five minutes. Winston's call breaks the silence in her room and unfreezes her, her good friend's voice breaking through the immobilizing fear. She stands, crosses the room, and hits Reply. "Winston, is that you, love? It's been too long!"
"It has," Winston responds. "Are you coming?"
"You bet your arse I am!" she laughs. The laughter is half her personality, half the sheer relief of release from her fear. "I wouldn't miss it for worlds, Winston. I'll be there as quick as I can." She turns back to her room, tossing through it and putting together the clothing and gear she needs for her return. The joy she feels at the thought of seeing her friends again is strong enough that she can forget about her fears. If home is where the heart is, she is going home.