CHAPTER 1: THREE TIMES LOST
Hello there, everyone. Apologies to existing users if this isn't exactly what you're looking for. I'm stuck somewhere without my PC and all my current chapters are on that computer. Sorry about that, but that's how things went. Anyway, while I still have a computer to write, I figured I'd dip my hand into Overwatch and see if I can wring something out of it for my readers.
Just in case the summary doesn't do its job, the basic premise is that an OC character is forced to confront the consequences of Overwatch and Talon's war against one another. His path will cross with other characters and he must decide which path he will choose to follow.
Anyway, on with the show!
They say you remember the days when you lose someone you love. The memories that stick with you until the day you die. I'd like to meet that guy. Or gal... And punch their lights out for being so right. Because I'd rather forget everything that's happened thus far...
I remember the first time, when I was part of a family. We were a unit of five, my parents, my older sister and brother and me. I still remember the days when we would go out, get some ice-cream and enjoy the great outdoors and the sun beating down on our face. I remember laughter, giggling, jokes abound.
Then the gunfire... I saw the look of fear in my parents' eyes, the look that told me something was wrong. We weren't horribly young, but we weren't exactly that old either. I remember Dad's voice, telling us to run and never look back. My mother stuck by him, both escaping another way. When I thought back to it, I wondered why they left. Maybe they thought they could take the heat off of us. It made sense in some way... My feet felt rooted, numb to the core. I didn't want to leave them, to think about what would happen to them. But my brother, Matthew dragged me away by my shoulder and those feelings were left unresolved.
As we ran, chaos was erupting in the streets. Civilians running scared for their lives, merchants abandoning their hard earned wares and police officers trying to herd us into something resembling order. Often, the gunfire would cease all pleasantries and I saw as they were pushed aside, fear taking hold of their minds, all sense of structure lost to the wind. My ears rang with the cries of the frightened, the people too terrified to comprehend anything but their immediate survival.
Then I got separated. Some old person threw me aside in his panic and I felt Matthew's fingers slip past me. I heard him shouting back to me as the crowd carried him along, begging me to follow the sound of his voice. But I was scared. People were shoving me left and right, mounds of meat pushing against me. I didn't want to die in a stampede and I made a choice to leap to a small alley nearby, hoping to follow after my siblings when I got the chance.
Then I heard it again. Closer this time. My interest piqued despite my hesitation, I followed after the noise. That's the first time I ever saw Overwatch and Talon in action. I saw this hulking gorilla clad in white armour plating dash into the fray with that Tesla cannon of his, arcs of electricity sparking off walls and jolting several of their foot soldiers into jabbering messes on the floor, guns clattering harmlessly. I saw a Swiss woman, dressed like an angel and carried herself like one keeping behind him, her beam of healing passing through the gorilla like magic. They never noticed me, only passed me by as they fought back Talon all on their lonesome. At the time, it was awe-inspiring to me. These were heroes of legend, people dedicated to protecting the innocent from harm.
And when the dust cleared and their battle was taken elsewhere, that's when I felt my heart shatter. I saw them again as I made my move to leave. Sitting against a wall, eyes closed and hands clasped around each other. Peacefully lying there... I raced over to see them, to fool myself to believe that it was all just a dream. The sounds of battle all around me were plentiful but I tuned them out, such was my grief in that very moment.
What was I supposed to do but cry? What was I supposed to do but wail for them to wake up, for a miracle to come out of nowhere? I was desperate enough to try and find them, to put aside grief for a moment in the hopes of finding the angelic woman again, hoping stories of her attempts at revival were true. But they never came. They never came back. And I was left there to watch, for a couple of hours until I heard footsteps behind me. I felt Matthew's hand on my shoulder, though I never turned to look at his face.
And all three of us, me, Matthew and Jane fell to our knees and prayed for the spirits of our parents, for them to be taken to some magical place of betterment. Somewhere far away from what this world had become.
That day was a day of numbness to me. When we got back, there was the usual report on the attack. Overwatch fends off Talon attack in the city. Recruitment going strong! All those phrases, all those news report. I just looked at the TV with a numb expression on my face.
"Hey, you okay there, pal?" I could hear Matthew speak through the din. At the time, I ignored him, too caught up with the report to even hear what he was saying. I heard the rest of the conversation through the din of the television, enough that I could at least record it on this journal.
"Let him be, Matthew. He needs to process this. Just like we do too." My sister patted my brother on the shoulder, moving to clean the dishes after dinner.
"I know. I'm just worried, Jane. I should have been there." Matthew sounded upset, his fist clenching in barely concealed rage at himself.
"So should I. The best we can do is to be there for him." Jane gave sound advice, advice that wouldn't matter soon enough.
That... was the first time.
The second came long after that, when I had thought I had put away the memory of my parents. I worked as an accountant, keeping track of numbers all day long. It suited me, the introvert who found comfort in things that was constant, not the ever shifting idea that was mankind. My sister took some contract work, often helping with construction projects throughout the city, especially after large scale battles that would tear through the blocks, no doubt Talon's doing.
And what about my brother? Well, he always was a fighter, a person who wanted to fight the good fight. Where else would he end up? I remember visiting him one afternoon, at some small little cafe a little away from the city's Watchpoint, a fancy name for an Overwatch HQ. I couldn't go in, considering that it would make me a target for Talon. So it's why we met there to discuss our lives together.
"How you doing, baby brother?" Matthew smirked, looking at me as he sipped his cup of coffee like an old pro. I kept to my plain old glass of water. I never did like drinking much else, especially on a warm day like this.
"Good. Good. We managed to grab some new accounts yesterday. Might even get someone in the seven digit range, if we're lucky." I said with a small hint of confidence. It was as exciting as my life was at that point, certainly nothing noteworthy compared to a member of Overwatch.
"Nice. Glad to see you moving up in the world." Matthew smiled at me, chuckling. He had that way with people, of making the smallest things seem so legendary.
"What about you? Anything new in the land of the Overwatch?" I switched gears, wanting to hear more about his exciting job, in the life of a peacekeeping operative.
"Things have been pretty quiet. We managed to recover our boss' wife a week ago. They're putting me on guard duty until we can ascertain if Talon will strike again or not." Matthew told me in general. Had I known then what I knew now, I would have told him to get reassigned as soon as possible. Or just quit. Anything that would have stopped him...
"All day? Don't you get any sleep? I swear, you look like a zombie from where I'm sitting." I looked at him with deep concern.
"Used to be. Now they keep me to the night shift. It's been... hard to adjust my sleep cycle." Matthew winced a little, eye twitching as if to accentuate his point even further. My concern wavered, but I brushed it off. He was a big boy now and like it or not, Matthew knew how to take care of himself.
"I'll bet. What about... that special someone?" I jested. It was often a thing with us, with all families I would think. Pestering each other about getting married, settling down and the like... I couldn't help but revel in that for some reason.
"We're going into this now? I should ask you the same." His cheeks flushed red, looking around as if wondering if anyone was watching them.
"You try getting a date when you're handling their bank accounts. Compared to you, I'm in a really long dry spell." I joked back.
"Hahaha... You'll get there someday. But yeah, I did find someone." Those last few words were barely above a whisper in my ears, but I understood it nonetheless.
"Really? Congratulations! When do I get to meet the lucky lady?" I patted his back a little harder than usual, genuinely ecstatic about my brother's fortunes.
"Soon, I hope. She's all prepping for some top-secret flight test. All hush-hush, you know. But she's great. I know you two are going to love her." Matthew waved if off like no big deal.
"Gotcha... Well, Jane will probably be on my hide again once she hears." I sighed, imagining my sister pushing me to start finding that special someone myself.
"Don't worry. I'm sure between the two of us, we can fib quite a lie." Matthew laughed. Hard. So the rest of the day went by without warning and soon enough, Matthew saw me back to the house and bid me farewell until the next week.
That was the last day I saw Matthew alive. I had planned to see him that fateful morning, wanting to know anything I could about his mystery lover. I was all dressed, all ready to leave. Jane was also prepped and ready. She had been busy last week with work, hence why she wasn't able to join us. Now, as we were about to leave, there came a knock on the door. Jane moved to open it and of course, there stood a rather dwarven looking man, decked out as he was in metal and improvised scrap. He looked like Overwatch and that already sent warning signs all over my head. The man seemed to cast a forlorn look at the both of us, as if struggling to find the right words to say what he wanted to say.
"Greetings, lass and laddie. May I come in?" He said in a thick accent, standing at the door all polite and all.
"Sure. Of course." Jane parted to let him in. I merely gazed, my eyes trying to discern his being here at all. There were only a few scenarios where Overwatch would visit a member's family. I was praying for the good ones.
"My name's Torbjorn. I know it's a mouthful. I worked with your brother." The man opened with a joke and tried to make the conversation sound light. I remember how I hated the go-around, how he seemed to delay what was then a sinking feeling in my stomach.
"Worked?" Jane picked up on his choice of word very quickly.
"Um, no easy way to say this..." he gulped, patting his knees with his large hands.
"Then say it." Jane spoke, voice faltering slightly.
"I'm afraid to say the lad is gone." He sighed.
"Gone? You mean...?" I asked, knowing what he meant by gone.
"Aye." Torbjorn sighed, ruffling his beard as he said so. Instantly, I could feel my heart race, the room seemingly choking me. Every memory I had of Matthew came rushing back into my head, clinging to what little I had left. I looked to my sister and I saw fury. I saw veins pop in her forehead, body quivering as it tried so desperately to maintain her front. All that failed with the next few words to come out of her mouth.
"How?!" her lip quivered as she said to the dwarf-esque man.
"I can't really share the details just yet but..." he was stopped by Jane.
"My brother is dead! Spare me your classified bull and tell me!" Jane shouted, raising her voice enough to rattle some of the neighbours. I saw them peeking inside like peeping Toms, trying to discern what had gone wrong.
"Matthew tried to prevent an assassination. He was unsuccessful." He reluctantly shared. There was a deafening silence, a pause that scared me. Jane just stood there, no longer shaking and her fists uncurling to rest at her sides.
"Lass, you okay?" he asked, tone laced with concern.
"Get out." It was barely a whisper, but the message was clear.
"Pardon?" The man made the poor choice of asking for a repeat. My sister gave him a repeat, alright.
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" her scream came out like a banshee, my whole body quivering with fear. Even the usually stalwart Torbjorn was taken aback, looking at her with remorse.
And then Torbjorn was gone, nodding silently as he walked out of our house. My heart sank again for the second time in my life. My knees wobbled and my fingers curled inward in rage. Jane was in an equally upset mood, angrily stomping off without another word to her room. As I slid down to the ground, tears welling in my eyes, I heard her scream. Then crying. Then silence. It was always the silence that scared me. But I didn't dare go in. I was too tired, too upset. Nothing left for me to do but sit and feel just how much emptier the house felt.
That was the second time...
And the last... You know how this goes already.
It was about a few years later. Overwatch was disbanded officially. Rumors contradicted that fairly quickly. All around the world, people spoke of their remnants rising to become independent, to work as they did but in the shadows. Talon wasn't as much on the news as before, but there were moments when their operations spilled over. It was that day I came home to find Jane furiously packing some gear into her bag, mumbling something under her breath.
"Going somewhere? Do I need to pack as well?" I asked cheerfully, wondering if she was planning on taking a trip. I was about to grab my own bag when she replied.
"No, I'm heading off. I can't stay here, brother. I can't keep waking up and seeing their empty rooms over and over again." She said quietly, pausing only briefly before returning back to her task.
"You wouldn't let me rent it out. What else did you expect?" I joked again, hoping she wasn't being serious.
"How are you so cavalier about this? Matthew is dead! Our parents are dead! Don't you care?" she angrily rounded on me, teeth gritted against one another like a crazy person.
"I miss them too, but what can we do? We can't bring them back." I answered, seeing her still frantically packing like nothing else mattered. It was only when I saw her stuff a gun into her bag that I got the hives. As she made to leave, I stood in the doorway, blocking her from leaving.
"Don't." I pleaded.
"Get out of my way." Jane snarled under bated breath, eyes red with anger. I was afraid she was going to kill me, her own brother just to make her point. I stood firm.
"There's no point. You would be killed. Best case scenario, they throw you into jail if they caught you!"
"I won't be alone." Those words were what chilled me. I knew exactly who she meant. Talon was never shy about recruitment, now with Overwatch more or less out of the picture.
"After what they did?! Are you nuts!?" I pointed out, hoping Matthew's death would at least remind her.
"It wasn't them. It's Overwatch. It's always been Overwatch." She denied vehemently, trying to push me aside again.
"We're all that left, Jane. We need to stick together or we won't make it." I tugged at her arm, trying to get her to see reason or any amount of common sense.
"I'm doing what needs to be done. Now get out of my way." Jane snarled again, staring me down as if daring me to respond or do something to keep her there.
I don't remember why I stood aside and let her go. Maybe I believed she would come back. Maybe I thought she wouldn't follow through. Or maybe I was done fighting, done trying to do the right thing. Always I ask as I relived each moment. Could I have done something? Was I responsible? Always the answer would be same. Yes. Yes, with resounding fire. And that ate away at me.
I never saw Jane for an entire year. A whole year, I woke to an empty house. There were no more giggling, no more trips for ice-cream. The house was slightly dishevelled, having forgotten to do my usual rounds. I never stayed too long in the house, never wanting to let my mind fall to despair and pain. I had to stay strong as they would have wanted me to.
But then came a week ago...
It was a quiet night, a night like any other. The moon was high up and the streets were quiet as usual, save the odd couple or party returning from the bar. I had lost my lustre for most things in life, carrying back a warm packet of take-away noodles in my left hand. As the wind rustled, I felt someone watching me. Someone unfamiliar... As I rounded the corner, there they both were. That gorilla again. And a wiry British woman, a large device strapped to her chest. Her orange jumpsuit pants made her stand out and she seemed possessed of boundless energy. They were staring at me, looking me down like something fierce.
"Hello there, love." The British woman cheerfully intoned, looking at me with a cheerful look in her eyes.
"Wha...? What are you people doing here?" I jumped back, slightly taken aback by the fact that two Overwatch members were standing right in front of me.
"You're Matthew's brother, yes?" the gorilla spoke with a rather well versed version of English. It wouldn't shock me to think that animals could talk. Overwatch tended to attract the weirdest kind.
"I am... I was. Why?" I sputtered, painfully correcting what I had said. It was the truth I had to live with, after all.
"Talon's got an interest in you. They believe you know where our watch points are." The gorilla continued, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses.
"Matthew told me nothing about it. So, just..." I retorted, starting to back away in case they tried something. Even then, I knew I had no chance against two well armed opponents.
"We know, hon. But we figured we owe Matt a favour." As soon as I heard her say his shortened name, it gave me pause. For as long as I knew him, Matthew never liked anyone he didn't care about to use his nickname nor did he tell it to many others, least of all his new comrades. So for her to say it? It seemed unbelievable.
"Matt? No-one uses that nickname... Unless..." I stammered. She took it as a way to intro herself.
"It's good to finally meet you. Lena Oxton. Most people call me Tracer." Lena extended her hand to me. I admit, I was... surprised at Matthew's choice. But by the way she had talked, the way she carried herself, it was clear why. They had much in common. That drive to be a hero, to be optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds. If I had to be honest, I was jealous. It must be nice, to be able to see the world in a good light.
"You were Matthew's girlfriend." I said, taking her arm to shake it. It was numbing to think, to be reminded but I was happy at least to see some remnant of him continue to live on in some way.
"We can catch up later. Right now, we need to head to your house and get..." the gorilla made to break us up, only for the crack of a rifle to break our flow of conversation. I saw the beast tumble backwards in pain, clutching his damaged armour plating with a grunt.
"Winston!" I heard Tracer scream, moving to see where the source of the gunshot came from. I looked up, seeing the assailant. It was some raven-haired woman, slender in form, her skin almost blue in colour. At the time, it never struck me to connect the dots and even today, I have a hard time believing just what Talon had put her through.
"We meet again, cherie." Widowmaker said in her French accent, her rifle trained on Winston's back, a long red bead emanating from the barrel.
"Run!" Lena told me. I didn't need another second to consider it. Dashing into the alley they had come from, I kept as far away as possible from the din of gunfire erupting behind me. As I neared what I believed to be freedom, I was stopped by a Talon mercenary, face covered in a helmet and balaclava. I only recognized who it was when they made a cute little bird with their right hand, something we had come up with as children.
"Jane?" I asked in shock, reeling a little back. I hadn't seen her in a year, so perhaps I was a little... emotional when I saw her again, even if her helmet was covering anything that would help me distinguish her from the pack.
"Brother? What are you doing here?" she asked me back.
"I could ask you the same." I shot back, wanting to hug her so badly.
"We heard they were coming after you and..." That was about as far as Jane got before a burst of blue zipped past both our heads, Jane immediately going into alert.
"Oi, get away from him!" Tracer was racing down the alley, zipping at incredible speeds to catch up. As her twin guns opened up again, Jane tossed me aside and ran, firing back at Lena with wild abandon. Hurriedly, I brushed myself off and chased after them. I didn't want them to hurt each other, especially Jane.
"Wait, no!" I called after them, dragging myself to the sound of their gunfire. As I exited the alley, I could hear another source of gunfire erupt nearby. It was Winston, who ambled after Widowmaker, bracing against her sniper fire and faltering right next to me.
"Stop! Stop!" Tracer had backtracked, leaving my sister alone. I had breathed a sigh of relief, one I felt guilty about as I stood there helpless as the French looking assassin moved with deliberate carefulness towards the prone Overwatch member.
"Au revoire, monkey." Widowmaker made to pull the trigger, until her high heel stepped right onto Winston's discarded glasses. I heard the crunch of glass and plastic under her boot, then the primal rage as the ape's eyes resounded with red fury, sending the assassin off balance.
"Arrrgghhhh!" he thumped his chest, chasing after the sniper. Feeling that the coast was clear, I dashed after Jane. Maybe I could convince her to lay down her arm, get her to come in. At least she'd be home with me...
"Trying to crash the party, love?" Tracer... I mean Lena made to fire at Widowmaker as the sniper was making her own escape. As her twin guns chattered out, the assassin grinned, leaping out of the fray. And giving her rounds clear line of sight at my sister... I don't remember entirely what I did next. All I could think of when I saw her body crumple to the floor in a flash of blue was rage, anger and above all, pain.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" I bellowed. I had rushed down to her body, unable to concentrate on anything going on around me. Time had seemingly paused as I skidded right beside her on my knee, clutching her still body... with my bare hands.
"Jane...? Jane...?!" I shook her, hoping she'd rise back up. No response.
"Please wake up... Please..." I felt tears well up in my eyes, now desperately shaking her like a madman. I heard footsteps, the crunch of large ones and the tiptoe of small ones. And I still didn't care.
"I don't want to be alone. Please... don't leave me..." I begged again.
"Jane, wake up. Please..." That was when my mind caught up, trying to scream to say she was gone. I wanted to shut it down, to kill it with fire for even making such a suggestion. But still it screamed, and still I forced myself not to listen.
"I..." Tracer looked on at me, hands covering her agape mouth as her eyes widened in horror. Winston, injured as he was lowered his broken glasses in relative shame. At least, that was what they had told me. All I remember was cradling my sister's body, begging again and again for something gone to come back. Little else stuck in my head that day. Hell, I don't remember how I got myself into my own bed. I just cried consistently, tears running down my cheeks as I sat in that house, truly and utterly alone.
That... was the last time. So many people have opinions about Overwatch and Talon in general. Some good, some bad. So many stories of hope. So many stories of despair... Few of them like mine. The ones torn apart by the madness... The ones left to face consequences they never asked for.
Maybe it was time to hang my banner up to dry, but I'm too tired to finish this. I hope whoever reads this entry understands now. There are no such things as heroes. No such things as villains. In the end, we are... just people... Frail, foolish and doomed to suffering at our own hands... Perhaps I may find peace in time. But what lies would I have to tell myself to even achieve it?
With regards,
Rennie.
