I've been kicking this idea around in my head for a little bit, but I've wanted to do an Overwatch story for a long time. I plan to do a crossover with MCU in the future, but this story is purely Overwatch. Be warned: I'm focusing on other stories at the moment, so this will only get updated sporadically.

This story starts a few days after the events of "Alive", but doesn't necessarily comply 100% with canon. For instance, no one knows who the Widowmaker truly is, and Lena misses the Recall due to being incapacitated by the Talon assassin.

Pairings will not be a major focus of this story, but they'll be a background feature. Don't expect every one of the typical pairings to appear. So far, the only one I'm willing to confirm is Lena/Emily, which does follow canon.

These first few chapters will focus on Tracer, but don't expect that to be the case for the entire story.

Anyway, enjoy!

The first thing I saw was darkness, and the first thing I felt was pain.

Fitting, I s'pose, considering my last memory was that of the infamous Talon assassin, the one they called Widowmaker, her amber eyes glinting with cruel glee, derived no doubt from her latest kill.

That's right. I had just failed in preventing Tekhartha Mondatta's murder.

"Bloody hell." -I whispered, my voice rough from lack of use. I was still dressed in my Tracer uniform, my guns still tucked under my arm braces, and the accelerator that kept me anchored to the timeline safely wrapped around my torso. I gingerly held a hand to my left side, and hissed in pain when I felt the swollen bruise. Experience said that was at least a cracked rib.

Noises that sounded suspiciously like explosions outside had me bolting upright. Rising was not without struggle, though I was thankful at least that my limbs were nothing worse than sore. Examining the darkened room I was in, I saw a chair occupied by a familiar redhead, who was softly snoring, facing the spartan cot that'd held my prone form.

Emily looked tired; her already pale skin looked almost sickly, and there were some awful bruises under her eyes. She'd not been sleeping well for some time, which led me to the worrying conclusion that I'd been out of it for a while. I took off my right glove and pressed it to her cheek. "Emily, love. Wake up."

She stirred quickly, ever the light sleeper. Her hazel eyes took a moment to focus on me, but when they did, her expression was not one of joy, but rather paradoxical anger.

"Lena Oxton, what in blazes are you doing up!?" -she shouted, shooting up from her chair.

Oh. I stammered. "Uh…"

Emily sighed and closed her eyes. "You have a cracked rib and a hastily repaired accelerator, Lena. You're not supposed to be up and about."

I raised an eyebrow, looking down at my chest. Indeed, the accelerator looked a little dinged up, even though I felt fine. "Really, love, I've had a lot worse. Thank you for worrying, though." -I said, holding her hand. Then I frowned; "Wait, who poked at my clock?"

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrow, though hers was decidedly more sarcastic. "What, you don't think I could've fixed it?"

I cleared my throat. "I just know I couldn't. Honestly, outside of Winston, I can't think of anyone-"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. It obviously wasn't me. Thought it wasn't your friend, either."

"Who, then?"

"She calls herself Brigitte. Came in a pair with one of your old friends. The massive german bloke in the even larger power armor."

Well. That explained the noise outside. "Reinhardt?"

She nodded, still looking annoyed. "That's the one. Don Quixote de Berlin."

I snorted. "Not off base, there. What's he doing here? Where are we, even?"

Emily pursed her lips. "We're...still in King's Row. Winston is supposed to pick us up soon, but he's had some trouble getting out of Gibraltar, so he sent a knight in rather faded armor to keep us safe until then. Unfortunately, this Reinhardt character can't seem to avoid an honorable fight."

I resisted the urge to groan. "Who's he picked a fight with this time?It must really be bad if Winston's decided to leave the Rock."

"In all honesty, he's actually being rather noble. Since Mondatta passed away, there's been all sorts of rioting. Gotten fairly terrifying this past week. Reinhardt has been shielding the Omnics and those of us humans humane enough not to hate them from the worst, ever since he and Brigitte arrived." -she said, half annoyed, half fond of the old hero.

I looked down in shame. Emily frowned. "What's wrong, Lena?"

"Emily...I'm so sorry. I tried to stop Talon from killing Mondatta."

Emily was the one who actually believed in the Iris; I'd just been curious about this guy who held such influence over the masses - and my girlfriend - and thought about looking into him. I hadn't actually meant to attend his speech, but I'd been in the neighborhood - looking into some suspicious activity that I now suspected had been Widowmaker's doing - and decided to see what the leader of the Shambali was all about.

My girlfriend's eyes went a little glassy, but she toughened it out. "I know. There's footage of your fight with the Widowmaker on the rooftops. The Yard is looking to question you."

"Figures. And with Rein around, I can't imagine the U.N. is happy."

She nodded. "You know they only turn a blind eye if it's just you, or Ziegler. Two former Overwatch operatives - soon to be three - in one place sounds an awful lot like you lot are openly defying the Petras Act."

Pouting, I crossed my arms. "I wish."

"Sweetheart, I love you, and respect that you're an adult capable of making your own reckless choices, but I expressly forbid any sort of superheroic nonsense for at least the next twenty-four hours. You shouldn't even be moving."

I groaned. "Emily, there's rioting! Innocent people could get hurt!"

"You are already hurt! You'll only get yourself killed if you try to help." -she shot back, her face constricted by worry.

"Love, you know me. I can't just sit here." -I said, then sighed. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll try to stick behind Rein's shield, yeah?"

Emily pursed her lips, but I was right. We'd been together long enough that she knew I just couldn't stand by while people needed my help. "Fine, Lena. But I'm coming with you." -she said, putting an open hand between us, which I quickly filled with one of my pistols.

"I knew I loved you for a reason."

She scoffed. "You mean besides the mind-blowing sex?"

I cackled. "Two reasons, then."

Couple of notes/headcanons:

In-game dialogue shows Tracer as an admirer of Mondatta's. And she eventually becomes this, but at first (at least in my headcanon) she doesn't really know the Omnic monk as more than an important religious figure - sort of as someone who's an atheist would know the Pope exists. It's Emily who's actually a follower of the Shambali philosophy.

On that vein, I see Tracer as an atheist. She's actually been a "ghost" and was unimpressed by the afterlife. Joking aside, she's seen a lot of crap in her time as Tracer and before. She couldn't bear to believe in a god that allows for things like that to happen. Make of that what you will.

Emily knows how to shoot, but maybe not Tracer's pulse pistols. She's bound to get a surprise as soon as she pulls the trigger. It's not easy to aim the bloody things.

The pulse pistols use and have used the same 40 rounds of ammunition since they were built. They use the same tech as Tracer's chronal accelerator to "retrieve" the bullets shot from the past, and back into the ammo pack.

The "Reflections" comic shows Tracer as able to walk around without her harness, as long as it's docked nearby. I'm modifying that, as I think it makes the chronal accelerator a very small issue in her life; instead, Tracer wears a choker/bracelet/belt/anklet combination to keep her body rooted in the timeline. It's elaborate and doesn't go with anything, but at least it saves her from needing to use the full harness all the time. The "casual" accelerator does not support Tracer's abilities, it merely does the passive anchoring.

Until next time!