OVERWATCH
WE'RE ALL SOLDIERS NOW
"Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise, Reyes?"
"Go play 'boyscout,' Morrison. We'll be just fine."
The blonde man stared at his friend with icy blue eyes then nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, nodding affirmative. Jack Morrison turned and motioned to his group. Reinhardt grinned and hefted his hammer with one hand before slipping his spiked helmet over his head.
"Vat are ve vaiting for?" he asked.
"C'mon, luv! We'll be back before you know it!" Lena reassured her commander. Morrison smiled at his strike force. Overwatch had grown immensely in the past few months, and while relations with the public were strained, their family was stronger than ever.
"All-right," Morrison said with a cocked grin, "sound off."
Lena zipped back into line next to her beloved friend, Winston. "Tracer, ready to move!"
"I really need to finish my calculations," Winston tried to say before being elbowed by the slim girl to his left. He sighed, "Winston, reporting."
Dr. Ziegler, Torbjorn, Mei, and Reinhardt all checked in and they synced their chronos. "The mission," Morrison began, "is in Washington D.C., United States. We're to bodyguard an omnic representative. He's been the target of death threats and the like, and with the public's increasing intolerance towards his kind, he's asked for our help specifically."
"I wish we had Amelie for recon duty on this one," Mei muttered. One look from Lena and Mei turned pale and muttered an apology. Their best sniper had been missing for months now and they feared the worst.
"I've contracted the best recon team from Hanamura, two brothers. I wouldn't worry too much, Mei." Morrison nodded towards the dropship and the crew began to make their way toward it.
Lena placed one foot on the ramp and paused. "What is it, Lena?" Winston asked, his large yellow eyes filled with concern.
"Nothin'," she said. "Just...a bad feelin' is all."
"Hey, kiddo," the large ape chuckled, "it's our home! Who would dare mess with us here?"
"You're right, of course." She smiled and boarded the vessel.
"Dropship is leaving. Shall we proceed?"
"Affirmative. Initiate Homecoming Protocol."
The French woman smiled and toggled her visor on. "Acknowledged."
Reyes pulled the picture from his wallet and stared at the woman who dominated it's surface. Suddenly, a sharp southern voice pulled him from his trance. "What're you starin' at, old man?"
"None of your business, boy," Reyes growled at his student. Mccree puffed on his cigar and grunted. "Put that out," Reyes muttered. "You know Winston and Mei hate that shit."
"Since when do you care?"
Reyes raised an eyebrow. "I don't," he replied gutterally.
"Right. Besides, they ain't here now, is they?"
Reyes just growled and shoved the picture into the breast pocket of his shirt. "I'm going."
"Where?" Mccree asked.
"Out." The Blackwatch commander shoved past the cowboy and stormed up the stairs to the balcony. The boy was good, a quick draw and a better shot, but he was new to Overwatch and old habits died hard.
"You shouldn't be so hard on him," came a soft voice behind him. "He sees you as a father."
"He needs a better role model," Reyes sighed.
"You know," she smiled, "you put on this tough guy act, but you do care."
"Can't prove a damn thing," Reyes leaned on the guardrail and stared at the ocean waves crashing on the cliff. The few clusters of buildings and prefab shelters beneath them were home-Watchpoint: Switzerland.
"Besides, be grateful you get to spend so much time with your family," Ana said. "Some of us don't get that luxury." She turned and palmed the door control.
"You don't know the half of it," Reyes whispered. In the distance, something glinted on one of the antenna spires. A flash of red, quicker than most eyes could catch. It's nothing, Reyes thought. He reached for the photo in his pocket when his fingers came away sticky. Red liquid stained his tanned skin. The irony of it hit at the same time the pain did. Amelie.
Lena zipped back and forth, her chrono-accelerator buzzing frantically.
"Could someone stop her, please?" asked the omnic in a three-piece suit. "She's giving me a migraine."
"Sorry," Winston apologized and placed a hand on Lena's shoulder when she next appeared in front of him. "Lena, calm down."
"Why aren't they answering?" she asked, her big brown eyes piercing into Winston's.
"Perhaps zey are eating?" Reinhardt suggested.
"At the same time?" asked Lena.
A few meters away, Morrison growled and crushed his earpiece in his fist. Dr. Ziegler quietly handed him a new one when he stalked back towards the group. "Not a single comm is open. I can't even reach them on the emergency band."
"That isn't normal," Dr. Ziegler folded her arms over her white bodysuit.
"No, it isn't. If they didn't answer, that'd be one thing, but for comms to be completely off? Goes against every protocol in the book."
"Look, Jack," said the omnic, "if you need to go, then go. I won't keep you from your family."
"I appreciate it, sir. I'll make a call to the President, see if I can make some secret service detail's day. It's the least I can do, and he still owes me."
"Son, we all owe you," If the omnic could grin, he would've. "Now go already!"
Dust caked the air and debris was everywhere. Nothing was left standing, not even the large pole adorned with the Overwatch logo and flag. Sitting on a large chunk of rubble was the unmistakable silhouette of Mccree. His eyes were glazed over and he stared into space. "Mccree!" Morrison called. The cowboy didn't respond. The group rushed towards him and stopped short. His left arm was gone, a shredded stump above the elbow. Clenched in his right hand was Ana Amari's Egyptian Military beret. Dr. Ziegler swiftly glided over to him and began treating his arm, delicately pulling shrapnel out with her bare hands.
"Son, what happened here?" asked Morrison, his blood running cold.
"Where is everyone?" asked Mei. Winston and Reinhardt immediately began to sift through the rubble.
"Mccree!" shouted Lena. "We trusted you! We let you into our family and then...then...this!" She zipped up to him and slapped him. He didn't flinch.
"Wasn't me," his lips barely moved to pass the words in a near inaudible whisper.
"Enough!" Dr. Ziegler glared at Morrison, Mei, and Lena. "Go help ze others. I will tend to him."
The next few hours were spent hefting concrete, large and small, hoping to find some trace of the dozen or so victims. After nearly four hours, Winston finally called out, "I've found something!" Reinhardt quickly stomped over and began to lift the boulder with Winston.
The sight that met them was gruesome. Ana Amari stared into space lifelessly, her entire lower half crushed into a bloody paste.
"This isn't right," Morrison muttered. "She wasn't killed by the debris. She was already dead." His hand ran over three large bullet holes that pierced her back. "Heart and lungs, three bullets." The commander rocked back on his heels and let out a breath. "There are only three snipers I know capable of making that shot and one of them is right here. And since Sombra is dead…"
"We can't tell Lena," Winston said, gravely. "It would break her."
"Right," Morrison ran a dusty hand over his face, covering it with soot. "Mei either." He looked to Reinhardt and Winston. "In fact, as far as we know, the shooter could be anyone." Reinhardt opened his mouth then shut it as Morrison glared at him.
"Alright, my boy, but mark my words, zis vill hurt her in ze long run far vorse zan if you tell her now."
Morrison just turned and walked away.
It took them two more hours, when the sun was low in the sky, to find the only other survivor. "Reyes!" Morrison called. "Reyes, talk to me! Ziegler! I need a medic here, NOW!" he cried. She ran to his side and stared down at the man. Miraculously he was still alive.
"Jack," Ziegler whispered as she knelt next to Reyes' broken body. "There is nothing I can do for him."
"What about the Valyrie?" Morrison's blue eyes pleaded with her.
Her eyes flitted to the others who watched from a respectable distance. "It's not ready, dear, I haven't perfected the formula yet."
"I don't care!" Morrison cried, tears streaming down his soot-covered face. "We need to save him! He's my best friend!"
"Jack," she started but stopped as he leaned down to cradle Reyes' head in his arms. His eyes squeezed shut and the tears poured forth. They had so many differences and Reyes could be such a pain in the ass, but he had been there since the beginning. He was Morrison's longest friend. A light yellow glow began to pierce through the black of his eyelids and Morrison blinked a few times to clear his eyes before looking up. The sight he beheld was that of an angel, her wings glowing bright orange and her crystal blue eyes full to the brim with compassion. She was Mercy incarnate and she touched Morrison lightly on the shoulder before reaching out to Reyes' body. Her eyes blazed gold and she could see every fracture and bullet hole. His body was her playground and there she ruled over life and death. She reached out and released the Valkyrie nano-particles into the air and they set to work repairing the body. Her brain moved at lightning speed as she found, diagnosed, and laid out treatment for Reyes.
"Heroes never die," she kept muttering to herself. "Heroes never die. Heroes never die. Heroes never die. Heroesneverdieheroesneverdieheroesneverdieheroesneverdie…" Finally she reached out and tapped into what she could only describe as Reyes' very soul. "HEROES NEVER DIE!" she called out and lifted him from the brink of death.
Reyes coughed loudly, heaved once, and sat up, his hand on Morrison's shouleder. "Don't trust her!" he growled. "Whatever you do, do not-" his eyes widened and red flashed in them. In an instant, Reyes' body turned to vapor and he vanished.
Morrison's heart skipped a beat and he lurched forward, clutching at the air where his best friend used to be. As the sun set over Switzerland, Morrison cried out in a primal pain and Ziegler held him close.
The morning came and brought with it reporters. "Strike-Commander Morrison, how did this happen?" "Strike-Commander, what will Overwatch do next?" "Strike-Commander, now that your HQ is gone, will Overwatch finally cave to the public's demand for disbanding?" "Jack, it's time you let go."
The final voice snapped Morrison out of his daze. He looked up into the face of the United Nations Co-Chairman. "You fought the good fight, son, but look what it's brought. Pain and suffering. Hang it up. Retire. You did good, but the good days are behind you. As of this moment, Overwatch is no more." A hand on the shoulder and the man disappeared into the crowd of people, more civilians than reporters now. "Overwatch, go home!" "We don't need you anymore!" "Criminal scum!"
Morrison turned to his family who stared at him with eyes full of tears. "What will we do now?" Mei asked.
"Where will we go?" Lena's eyes were wide.
"Commander?"
Morrison looked up from the ground. "They have decided, uh, that we need to disappear." He paused a moment and the damnedest thing caught his eye. The Overwatch logo, fluttered on the torn flag. Out of all the destruction and death, only that beautiful white and orange circle remained whole. "So we do what they want. We vanish. But we never stop working. There's a saying in the army, that old soldiers never die and they never go away. I've never understood what they meant by that until now. They may tear our family apart, call us criminals and vigilantes, but that doesn't matter, because no matter how far away we are, we're still family and we'll still fight to protect this world."
Morrison turned to the sunrise. "We're all soldiers now."