Old Soldiers
It was cold; a stark contrast to the heat the desert radiated during the day. The ruins of the former Overwatch outpost were as he remembered them. The toppled statue of Ana Amari was a testament to the fall. He remembered the coup, the day Gabriel betrayed them. He remembered the destruction and the senseless violence. In the days following his reported death former Strike-Commander Jack Morrison made it his mission to understand the full extent of the fall of his beloved organization. Dozens of destroyed bases, hundreds dead and even more wounded. He realized he was as much to blame as his former friend, a notion that he reminded himself of daily.
Soldier 76 picked up the statue's head and sat down on a fallen pillar, setting aside his gun and visor. He ran his thumb across her cheek, removing the sand and dust that clung to it. Bit by bit he slowly cleaned the stone. With every brush he remembered; Her fierce eyes, her sharp features. He remembered her lips, her laugh, every gentle caress she made. He remembered she was gone and the world had grown colder. The old soldier pressed his scarred forehead to the statue's. He whispered her name and in the recesses of his memory he could hear her whispering his. The sound of footsteps brought him out of his musing.
"Hands in the air," the newcomer demanded. Recognition struck immediately as her voice echoed throughout the former Watch point. "I said hands up; on your feet."
He complied, carefully setting the statue's head down. There was no mistaking Fareeha Amari. She held the same authority in her voice as her mother. The two stood there, unmoving, for a long moment.
"What are you doing here," the Helix Security Chief questioned. When the old soldier didn't respond she continued. "This facility is derelict. Nothing left but rubble and old memories. Anything of value was stripped from here years ago. So what brings a vigilante like you to an abandoned place like this."
"Old memories," he replied gruffly. Without his mask's synthesizer he needed to disguise his voice. He had no doubt that Fareeha would be able to recognize his voice if he spoke normally.
"What memories would a man like you have of this place," she inquired. He could detect a bit of venom in the question. Whatever her opinions use to be, it was evident that the young woman held nothing but contempt for him.
"More than you know," he answered quietly. He wasn't ashamed to admit that it hurt. Even if she didn't know who he was it was still painful knowing that the little girl he thought of as a daughter now despised him. The level of sadness in his voice caught them both off-guard and once again the night was filled with silence.
The quiet was thick with tension. He couldn't see her expression but he was sure the woman had many questions for him. What happened to Overwatch? Why did Gabriel Reyes betray everyone? Did her mother really die in the explosion in Switzerland?
"So the rumors are true, you did serve in Overwatch?" she stated more than asked. "And my mother, did you know her?"
"I did," he replied carefully, treading lightly to avoid giving away too much of his identity. He heard her switch on the safety and holster her gun but he did not move from his spot. Slowly he reached down for his visor and when he heard no objection from the security chief he equipped the mask.
"You're not worried?" he asked, now facing the woman. He could now see she was wearing civilian clothes; khakis with boots and a plain brown shirt under a worn Overwatch pilot's jacket with Amari emblazoned on the left breast; Ana's old jacket. She had a small bouquet of flowers tucked under an arm.
"You've confirmed what I already guessed," she stated. "You may be a criminal and a thief, but you don't kill people without reason."
"What makes you think that?" He cocked his head to the side curiously, an old habit he never quite got rid of. She quirked a pretty smile that hinted mischief, an old habit she got from her mother.
"I've read the reports, studied you," she replied taking a seat on the fallen pillar. "'To catch a target you must know your target,' my mother use to say. Nothing in the reports show you as a murderer. So I'm relatively safe, assuming you do not see me as a threat of course."
He made a grunt in agreement and sat down beside the young woman. They sat there in silence for a long moment. Jack unsure of what to do and Fareeha figuring what to ask. She sat the bouquet of flowers next to the statues head and leaned back to look at the twinkling stars.
"Did you know my mother well?" she asked, suddenly breaking the silence. There was another brief pause as the old soldier carefully worded his answer.
"I knew her well enough," was his non-answer. She let out a derisive laugh that reminded Jack so much of her mother that he felt another pang of sadness hit. Here this girl was asking about her mother and Jack just wrote her off with half-truths. He wondered when exactly he became such a worthless man.
"She was a remarkable woman," he added. When the old soldier saw that he had Fareeha's attention he continued. "She was inspirational, determined and the most courageous person I'd ever met."
"You speak of her as a soldier," she stated. "After all she trained me to protect myself and others, to inspire. I knew Ana Amari the soldier. I don't want know more about that. I want to know about her as a woman."
Jack looked at her curiously, head once again cocking to the side and once again he was met with her smile. A smile of his own hid behind his mask. The Amari women had him wrapped around their fingers.
"She was clumsy," the declaration was enough to make the woman chuckle. She found it hard to believe that Ana Amari, the great sniper, was clumsy. "Believe it or not, but put her in a combat scenario and she was fine; but as soon as you asked her to hold a cup of coffee, complete mayhem. We had to get special mugs because she broke all of the ceramic ones. 'Ana the destroyer' some people called her."
Her laughter was a breath of fresh air. Jack hadn't seen her laugh so hard since she was small enough to carry on his shoulders. The rest of the night continued in much the same fashion. Jack would reveal a brief moment in Ana's daily life and Fareeha would chuckle at how mundane or silly it was. The old soldier would have to admit that it felt good to reminisce about those bygone days.
"She would have been proud of you, you know," he added as the sun began to rise over the horizon. The young security chief wore a small sad smile.
"She would never approve of me being a soldier."
"She didn't want you to be a soldier because she didn't want you to have to bear the burdens that came with it. Losing your friends, the death, the killing and the trauma that came with it. You were her whole world, Fareeha. You could have been a pig farmer for all she cared," he stated. "She wouldn't mind, as long as you were happy."
The statement made the young Amari woman look at the old soldier in a new light. She smiled and turned her attention back to the sunrise. Underneath the gruff exterior and mystery, he was a good man; the kind that the world needed. He reminded her of the former Strike Commander and something in the back of her mind screamed out at the similarity. She took closer look at the masked man. His hairline was more receded and faded. Their builds were certainly similar and they shared much of the same mannerisms when they spoke. Especially the way he spoke of her mother.
"Did you know Strike Commander Morrison?" she asked. Jack's body tensed involuntarily at the question. He should have expected it yet found himself unable to answer. He wanted to say 'no' but he could tell by the woman's expression that she knew the answer already. He remained quiet for a long moment.
"It's fine," she said with a sad smile. "You do not have to answer."
The sun was beginning to take the night, drowning the sky with oranges and yellows. Standing there with Fareeha reminded the old soldier of the mornings he would watch with Ana. They would talk about anything and everything. Ana would unload her burdens on him and he would in turn support her in any way he could. Jack became painfully aware of just how much it hurt to lie to this woman.
"When I was young," she started, interrupting the man's thoughts. "I would imagine that one day my mother would return home and say that the world was at peace and no longer needed heroes, that we could live as a family. When my mother became close with the Strike-Commander I often found myself wondering if he'd be a good father. I grew bitter as the months passed. Jealous that this man was taking my mother from me. But after the fall, after I'd lost them I realized... I just wanted them to come home."
She looked Jack dead in the eye. He could see the tears forming and fall across her cheek. There was no worse pain in the world than the pain he felt looking into her eyes. "But they never did."
He could feel them. His own tears. Streaming down his face like a fountain. In his mission for vengeance he'd left behind the one person he could call family and in that moment he hated himself more than he hated Reyes for everything he'd done. His hand reached up and violently gripped his mask and in a single motion was cast aside. The distance between the two grew shorter as he enveloped the woman in a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he muttered painfully.
"Papa," she sobbed into his shoulder, holding him tight. She never had a chance to call him that when she was younger and she became aware of all the missed opportunities they had. They never got to see her graduate High School, never saw her graduate with honors at the Military Academy, never saw her off on her first mission or greeted her on her return. Birthdays, Holidays, Anniversaries. She sobbed for all the lost years and Jack comforted her for all the times he couldn't.
"You've gotten old," Fareeha said after pulling away. Despite the tears she smiled a pretty smile. She took in all the wrinkles he'd developed, all the new scars. All this time he'd been fighting a one-man war and it showed.
He smiled at the jab at his age. "I can see you're still a snot-nosed brat," he said as he wiped her face and nose, earning an embarrassed laugh from the woman. Before they could continue they were interrupted by a beeping from Jacks Comm. Device. The former strike commander looked at the device curiously.
"Is something wrong?" Fareeha asked. She became increasingly more alert as his features hardened.
"This thing hasn't gone off in years," he said cautiously. Holding it up between them he activated the device. A holographic projection of the Overwatch symbol appeared with the words 'Recall' written over it.
"Will you answer it?" Fareeha asked. She had a hopeful look to her that Jack couldn't seem to share. He frowned and shook his head.
"Those days are long behind me," he answered. "The Overwatch I knew died at the Swiss outpost. I have my own path to follow now."
"Would you be willing to take me with you?" Fareeha asked plaintively. Jack gave her a small sad smile. Nothing would make him happier than to take the young woman with him but he knew that her place was not at his side. He held the device out to her in offering.
"I have my path and you have yours," he stated. He placed the Comm. Device in her hand with a proud smile. The old soldier straightened up to his full height and rested his fists on his hips.
"This new Overwatch will need someone to inspire hope, protect and lead into the future. I can think of no one better suited for the task than you. Security Chief Fareeha Amari, as the former Strike Commander of Overwatch I hereby give you orders to answer the call, head to Gibraltar and report for assignment. Am I understood?"
She clicked her boots together and stood straight. Saluting the man, she gave an enthusiastic 'Sir, yes Sir.'
Jack returned the salute and embraced the woman. "Make us proud," he whispered. She gave him one last smile before making her way back to the city. She had a lot of packing to do and a long journey ahead of her but Jack was certain she would be just fine. As much as he wanted to spend more time with his would-be daughter he knew that the world would not wait for them.
He picked up and re-equipped his mask and slung his gun over his shoulder. He looked to the sunrise and headed towards his next mission. There alone in the desert Jack Morrison, Soldier 76, was filled with hope for the first time in many years.
A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this little short story. Been a while since I last wrote anything so I'm a little rusty. I've always been fond of the idea that S76 is Fareeha's father to whatever extent. Just something about it makes for a compelling story. I'm not going to turn this into a series, but I will have a couple of additional chapters to add. One is pending the release of the next Overwatch comic which, coincidentally, is called Old Soldiers. The other is going to be Fareeha officially joining Overwatch. I'm hoping to have those out sometime in the next couple of weeks. Until next time everyone!