A/N This is a continuation of The White of His Hair, but can be read as a stand-alone fic.
You entered the drop-ship, eyes sparkling behind your new pair of silver aviator sunglasses. The mission was as successful as it could've been considering the circumstances, but you got what they wanted. Now, it was Talon's turn to pay up.
Entering HQ, a familiar man in a white mask was waiting for you. He held out his had expectantly.
"Oh, you want this?" You held up the flash drive. "Too bad, you're not getting it until I get was I was promised," opening the palm of your hand, you let the drive sink into it. Smiling, you flexed your hand making sure it settled in well. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to take a 'nap'." Walking away from Reaper, you drank more of the water from your borrowed canister before tossing it over your shoulder. Just as you expected, he was close behind you and caught it.
Walking into Talon's lab, with Reaper in tow, you yawned and gave a small wave to the Irish woman. "Mom," you greeted making your way to your pod.
Moira gave you a scowl. "The mission?" She asked coldly. Reaper walked over to the woman and began to whisper something to her.
You just held up you hand to her, letting the flash drive peak through the surface of your palm before letting it sink back under your skin. Stepping into your pod with a click, the door slid closed and it immediately began filling with a mixture of water and morphogenic enzymes the geneticist created. Finally, you could relax. Your body slowly lost shape and became more viscous, making sure to keep the flash drive towards the center of your now semi-liquid form. The last thing you need is for all your hard work to go to waste.
A shapeshifter. That's what they created you to be. You were the product of some genetically modified cadaver cells, programmed with the ability to shift form and molecular structure at will. You hated it. It was useful to be able to change form. Not useful for you though, useful for them.
Ever since you woke up in Talon's lab, they never treated you like a person. Maybe you weren't, but that wasn't for them to decide. To them, you were just a successful experiment that could now be used as a tool and exploited for their gains. You didn't know what they wanted. You didn't care. You just wanted out. "Comply and we'll grant you freedom," Moira had said. That was almost a year ago now. From the Shimada Estate to Overwatch: how many places had you infiltrated? Seven? Eight? This was the last one they promised, but somehow you didn't believe them.
You don't sleep, you can't sleep. You don't need sleep. That and your genetic makeup made you too valuable to let go. So, you just rest in your pod, thinking for hours on end. Dreaming of freedom… And a certain Talon hacker.