The Widowmaker lied atop a rooftop, her breathing calm, her face firmly planted on the Widow's Kiss with one eye looking through the scope. Her finger was pressed lightly on the trigger, ready to fire as soon as the perfect opportunity arrived.
Just a little more to the left… she thought, almost willing her target to move as he quite stubbornly stayed in place, sipping his coffee in perfect bliss. He was completely unaware that it would be his last cup. She could take the shot right now, it would be easy, she'd ran the calculations a million times in her head. But then, that leaves the chance for collateral damage, and that will not do. Widowmaker had no qualms about doing whatever it takes to get the kill, but any crazed gunman could simply pull a trigger. She, on the other hand, prided herself on precision. She kills her target and her target only, one shot, one kill, no more. Nothing short of perfection will do.
The wait was excruciating, her fingers danced on the trigger with the urge to just squeeze it and get it over with. But the Widowmaker is nothing if not patient. She would wait for that one perfect chance, for her mark to stumble into her web, her perfectly laid trap. Her target was still positioned just so that his body lined up with the middle-aged woman sitting a table away, as if intentionally trying the Widowmaker's patience.
"Spot of tea while ya wait, love?"
Shocked, Widowmaker looked to her side as she rolled away into a standing position, rifle aimed squarely at the source of the voice who was now giggling inanely. She sat on the edge of the rooftop just a few inches away from where Widowmaker had been, her legs dangling from the edge with that silly grin on her face. Tracer was her codename; the Brit had been a constant source of irritation for Widowmaker. Every single time she went after a target this massive annoyance would be right there, every time, if only to be a thorn on her side.
"I'll take that as a no then." Tracer said as she pushed herself up, dusting off her pants. Her weapons weren't even drawn.
What a fool... Widowmaker inched away from her to keep the ideal range for her rifle. She knew it wasn't worth much; no matter how many bullets she expended, the Overwatch agent always managed to weasel her way out. All the while taunting and giggling at her. She was even sure the Brit had flirted with her! Her eyes shifted downwards to the glowing object on her chest, it was all because of that blasted "Chronal Accelarator" as she calls it.
"Oooh You're checkin' me out. Like what ya see, love?" She teased as she ran her hands down her own sides.
"Don't flatter yourself." Widowmaker gritted her teeth, keeping her weapon on level as the Brit walked closer to her.
"Come on, everyone knows you're sweet on me!"
Widowmaker was taken aback by such a ridiculous assumption. "What... makes you have such delusions."
"Well, you haven't shot me yet." She said with a grin, stopping just a few steps from the muzzle of Widowmaker's rifle.
"You're not even worth the bullet, you are nothing but an annoying fool." She lowered her rifle. Widowmaker was bluffing, she knew if she fired a shot it would cause panic and her target would escape as a result, wasting all the time she had spent finding the perfect opportunity.
"Amélie, you wound me!" Tracer exclaimed with a dramatic voice as she exaggeratedly placed both hands over her heart. Her smirk was still there.
"Don't call me that!"
"That's your name, innit?" Tracer said, hands on hips.
"Amélie is dead." Widowmaker said flatly, staring daggers at the Overwatch agent.
"Well, you're here, aren't you?"
"I am not Amélie! I will never be!" Widowmaker hissed as she raised her rifle again. But the gesture was futile, as by this point Tracer was inside her guard. She simply pushed the rifle off to the side.
"For someone who claims she feels nothing, you sure get angry easily." She giggled.
Widowmaker's eye twitched, she could not believe how easily Tracer could she get under her skin. She couldn't be wait to be rid of the annoying brat. "You are infuriating."
Tracer giggled again. "I get that a lot." She looked at Widowmaker and smiled. "Y'know, you used to say that all the time."
A series of images flashed in Widowmaker's mind, Tracer -Lena as she used to call her-, her husband before she took his life. It was all coming back in a flash of excruciating pain, her mind rejecting the illusions flashing before her.
"You alright, love?"
Widowmaker didn't realize that she was clutching her head, face crunched up in agony. She opened her eyes and saw Lena with a look of concern on her face.
"Get away from me." She muttered. She just wanted the pain to go away. "You should fear me! I'm a monster! I kill people every day and I'll kill you too!" Her face contorted into a look of glowering hatred.
The concerned look on Tracer's face turned into a somber one, as if she felt sad for her. "That wasn't you, I know those bastards at Talon turned you into this."
She placed a hand on Widowmaker's arm, causing the latter to gasp from the contact. "I know what it's like to have your life changed by something completely out of your control." Tracer tapped the metal above the core of her Chronal Accelerator. "But what's done to you can be reversed. There's still a chance."
Did she even want that, though? The pain started again causing her to clutch her head. No! The closest she got to feeling truly alive was after a kill! She'd felt it for so long that she'd chase that high to the end of the world. She couldn't even imagine anything else. She didn't WANT anything else. The pain refused go away. "Why are you doing this!?" she screamed.
Tracer looked at her, she moved closer to the point where their bodies were nearly touching. She looked up, looking straight into Widowmaker's eyes and with that stupid grin of hers she uttered those words. "Because I love you, Amélie."
How DARE she! They were enemies! She felt nothing but pure hatred for this insufferable idiot of a girl! The pain in Widowmaker's head intensified again; she felt like her head was slowly being drilled into then pounded by a hammer over and over again.
"I miss the old you… please… come with me and let us help you… let ME help you…." Tracer ran her hands up to Widowmaker's shoulder.
Widowmaker couldn't even think anymore, her head felt like it was about to burst. She tried to figure a way out of the situation, frantically trying to find a way to make the pain stop. NO! she thought. I must be calm, there must be a way. She looked at Tracer; they were so close, the Brit was looking up at her, her grin had faded into a warm smile. At that moment, Widowmaker knew exactly what she had to do. In one quick motion she wrapped her hand around the back of Tracer's head and pulled her up as she bent down. Their lips met with a crash as they engaged in a passionate kiss.
Widowmaker felt Tracer recoil in shock at first, but after the initial surprise she pressed deeper into Widowmaker, leaning into her on her tiptoes. Widowmaker slid her hands down onto Tracer's shoulders, wrapping around the locks of her harness as she pulled her closer still.
Tracer felt the cold of Widowmaker's lips, but she didn't care, she reveled in the pure bliss of the kiss. She moved her hands over her curves, her mouth opening as she welcomed the softness of Widowm—Amélie's tongue, gasping for breath in the intervals when their lips separated.
Widowmaker moved her hands downwards, trailing along Tracer's body before suddenly grabbing her around her thigh, sticking a thumb between the fabric of her pants and the many straps of her harness.
While Tracer was lost in the kiss, she oddly felt like a weight had been taken off her shoulder. It was gone, to be frank she didn't think the expression would be quite so literal, but she felt it now, she had Amélie back. She felt Amélie's hands trail up to her chest, her own hands hanging onto Amélie's hips. Her thoughts were ended when she received a violent shove. She was pushed back, hitting the floor with a loud thump. She looked at Widowmaker, still half expecting her to come on top of her. Any trace of the grin she had disappeared when she realized what the French assassin had in her hands. Tracer's hands moved to her chest out of instinct, she felt the warm leather of her jacket through her gloves. "No." she uttered, her eyes wide open, half in disbelief and half in sheer terror.
Widowmaker looked back at the woman, bearing all of her hatred on her face. She opened her hands, letting the object she was holding collide with the floor with a loud metallic clank.
"Amélie, please don't…" Tracer begged, tears starting to well up in her eyes.
Widowmaker looked back at Tracer before laughing. It wasn't a happy laugh, nay it was sinister one, with an edge of hysteria to it. "You are a fool. Amélie is truly gone." Her voice was raspy and rough, her head still felt like molten lava was being injected into it. She moved her hand to her hip and drew a small sidearm from its holster.
"No… Please don't do this…" Tracer's face was filled with fear; tears were rolling down her cheeks.
Widowmaker didn't care about her target anymore, she was willing to do whatever it took to get this pain to stop. Nothing else mattered. She aimed her gun straight at the core of the Chronal Accelerator and squeezed the trigger.
"NO!"
She heard Lena scream, but she didn't let up, she kept pulling on the trigger, unleashing all her hatred until all that came out was the clinks of an empty gun. The Chronal Accelerator emitted a lot of static from the damage done to it before it finally sputtered out. Widowmaker felt her headache subsiding, she felt pure, blessed relief as she was finally rid of that pesky device. She looked at Tracer.
Tracer kneeled down besides what remains of her Chronal Accelerator. "No…" she whispered as she wrapped her hands around the frame of the now destroyed device. "No no no no no NO!" she screamed. "Why would you do this!?" She screamed as she stood up in front of Widowmaker. "I just wanted to help you! Why won't you let us help you!? Do you like being used as a weapon so much!? To be discarded once you're no longer of use!?" She grabbed Widowmaker by her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes, begging for answers. But none came. Instead Widowmaker just laughed again.
"I loved you, Amélie…" She sobbed. "I just want the old you back…"
"Foolish girl," Tracer looked up at her. "You willingly walked into the spider's web."
Tracer's expression turned from sadness to anger. She moved her hand closer to Widowmaker's neck, but it didn't make contact, instead it phased through like Widowmaker wasn't even there. "Wha-?" she examined her hand, stepping away from Widowmaker. Her hands were starting to turn translucent, several parts of them were completely missing. "Oh no!" Tracer screamed as more of her started to show the same effects. "Please no… No!" she looked Widowmaker.
"Adieu, Cherie."
Tracer screamed, at least Widowmaker was sure of it as she could still hear it echoing in the air. But, she was no longer there. Finally, she was rid of Tracer. The Widowmaker didn't feel much, but alas, she let out a deep sigh as her head was finally cleared, and the familiar satisfaction washed over her. The satisfaction of the kill.