() Overwatch – Love Is Pain () CHAPTER ONE
"Tracer…. Tracer can you hear me…"
"I don't understand why it is so difficult for you to just reply." Winston rubbed is eyes in frustration, he grabbed the communicator again.
"Tracer, please… where are you… it's been two days. It's not your fault that he was killed. You did everything you could."
Winston stared at the object in his hand hoping that she would respond. She disappeared after The Widowmaker killed the Omnic Leader, and no one had seen or heard a thing from her. Winston was about to try again when he heard static come from the receiver.
"Shhhhhh shhh *Thck*…. Ah, sorry luv, ad me-self some communication troubles. Ope *sniff* ope I didn't worry ya."
Winston sighed with relief, "Tracer, thank god you're okay. Please, PLEASE come back to HQ, were…. Worried about you"
"Ha ya shouldn't worry luv, I'll be there in thirty. I didn't know you all *sniff* you all cared this much about lil old me"
Winston knew tracer long enough to hear when she was upset, and he could get that she had been crying.
"Okay, but please, no detours." and with that Winston turned off his communicator.
()()()
The icy night air burned the back of her throat. The only sound filling her pierced ears, was the sound of her own feet on the cobble path. Her uneven breaths caused mist to form in front of her liquid brown eyes. Black mascara running down her freckled cheeks, staining her smooth pale skin. The communicator hanging loosely between her thumb and pointer finger. The chilled metal making her fingers feel numb and distant. The orange visor she wore, was strapped around her slender neck, resting upon her chest. Her gaze unfocused and without purpose, she just kept walking. Her legs seemed to be disconnected from her mind. The ghostly images of Mondatta's lifeless body flashed in the back of her glassy eyes. And all but a single thought flooded her troubled mind. I failed… Her shoulders felt as if they had the weight of the world upon them. She let her own fear get the best off her…the fear of loneliness…of emptiness…of despair. The fear of being trapped. Locked from time and space. She choose to let her hero die. Just so she wouldn't go back to the void that had claimed her, all those years ago. The chronal accelerator's bright blue glow was the only source of light that illuminated the dark alley. Its smooth metal running across her chest and lower back, the harness strapped to her slender form. Its soft hum constantly reminding her of its presence. It was a blessing but also a curse, the constant anxiety. All the buts and what ifs. However, in the end, it was the only thing in the world that was anchoring her to the present time. And for that, she was grateful.
The familiar site of the twenty story building complex greeted her, its towering size dwarfed the small British girl. Her legs sluggishly moving around the large concrete base of the structure, down a small passage. Barely two metres apart from the surrounding buildings, their walls coated with tattered posters and wanted signs. Presumably about her team members or even herself. Ahhhh yes. Those were the good old days, when life was so much simpler. People would line up for hours on end, just for a glimpse of one of the heroes. Just to say their thanks and how much they appreciated them. But now, they were forced to hide. To sneak around like vermin. To stick to the shadows and let their presents go unnoticed. Everything they did was for the safety of all living creatures, both humans and robots. But society now only sees them as nothing more than terrorists.
As she reached the dark back alley of the building she let out a long, shuddering sigh. She reached a shaking hand towards her face and tried to wipe away the mascara that stained her freckled cheeks. But only succeeded in spreading it across her face and on her glove, she was a sight to say the least. Her now tinted glove lifted up a rusted hatch that lived next to a large metal door, its reinforced steel keeping anything unpleasant from entering. Her nimble fingers found their way towards the glowing key-pad, the worn out keys shimmering with emerald light. Her fingertips acted on instinct, automatically pushing in the code without a second thought. .0.0.2. A small hiss of steam escaped in between the bricks that outlined the thick steel door. Bright blue light bleed through the crack in the bricks, the light moved gently over her face and down her neck. And as suddenly as it occurred the stunning light disappeared. The reassuring sound of the hydraulics inside the enormous door filled her ears. Not waiting for it to open completely she blinked inside and immediately wandered towards the winding marble staircase. Her gloved hand stroking the many different, and unique vehicles as she glided past. Usually she would jump into her favourite car and turn on the radio, letting the beat wash away any trouble the day carried. But today was different…and no amount of music could sooth the pain she felt in her heart.
The loud clank of the doors heavy locks sliding back into place rang out behind her, as she started her was up the gleaming stairs. Its brilliant white rock stepped on by soggy boots, leaving wet, dirty marks upon its surface. The second floor was completely turned into a medical bay. Mercy's equipment laid out in perfect order. It was entirely covered with stainless tiles, from floor to ceiling. Luckily, Mercy wasn't currently in the room. Lena let out a sigh of relief, she didn't want her bad mood to bring down the doctor. She continued up the stairs and reached the third floor, this room was taken over by Reinhardt, Torbjorn and . The two large suits hooked up by supports and resting in both corners. While Torbjorn's signature turrets were scattered amongst the floor and his workbench. Nowhere near as organized as the Mercy's workspace, which was expected, as she was a complete neat freak.
Tracer turned back towards the marble stairs, nothing going through her mind, except for the comfy image of her queen sized bed. Its warm covers and supportive frame, begging her to comply. She didn't need any other invitation as she chose to blink the rest of the way, she also thought this would make it less likely for her friends to bombard her with questions. The blue streamline of light emitted zipped up the stairs, the blurred images of each layer of the building passing in the corners of her hazel eyes. The sound of wet boots sliding across the clean floor signalled her halt. She stood in front of the tinted glass doors, which separated her from inside the main living quarters. The last two floors of their HQ was configured to accommodate for everyone's needs. The ceiling was high enough for Reinhardt even when he was inside his monstrous armour. It had over twenty rooms all fitted with queen sized beds. A large communal washroom fitted with ten showers and five sink basins. An enormous kitchen was located on the nineteenth flour, though only Torbjorn really did any actually cooking. And last but not least a sitting area were a massive leather couch took up most of the space, pointed directly at a flat screen TV, described in Lucio's words as 'a bloody beast'.
Lena's soft steps slowly approached the doors which opened with a quiet whoosh. To her distain, the sound of voices could be heard towards the back of the building. All she wanted was to be along with her thoughts, just too fully come to terms with the situation that she was currently in. Unfortunately the only way to her quarters was to pass the room in which her friends were located. Even with the use of her blink she was sure they would be able to see or even hear her. Several tense seconds passed as she considered her options. But, in the end, Tracer's patience and urge to get out of her tight orange pants, forced her hand. In a blink of brilliant light, she crossed the distance of the doorway, blinking the rest of the way towards her room. Unluckily, her action didn't go unnoticed to the eyes and ears of Mercy and Winston. Both in which gave concerned glances to each other.
() TIME – 21:04PM ()
"I'm not going in there, you're a girl, you know how this works. I'll… I'll probably make it worse." Winston stood outside Tracers room with Mercy, trying to get her to talk with their troubled team member. His large hairy hands stroking his soft stripped pyjamas as he shot mercy a half-hearted smile.
Mercy gave Winston a sour look before gliding towards the glass door and knocked three times. Her Valkyrie armour had been stripped from her body, only wearing the tight latex she normally wore underneath. She waited a few seconds before speaking. "Please, honey. Can I come in? You can tell me anything."
They heard a faint sob from the other side of the door and a small voice said. "I-I-I'm alright guys, really. I just need a bit of time to *Sniff* to think *Sniff* to think things over."
The last part of the sentence was barely audible as she was basically crying. Mercy looked back at Winston with a look of sadness, they had never seen Tracer this miserable and distant.
Mercy sighed, "alright sweet heart, but if you change your mind you know where to find us."
And with that Winston and Mercy walked down the brightly lit corridor to join with the others.
() IN ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY ()
() TIME – 21:04PM ()
His large, muscular body hidden by his bellowing cloak, its dark fabric filled with holes and scorch marks. Each a reminder of a different mission, a different kill, but the same adrenaline, the same rush. The heavy hood resting on his shoulders, revealing his rough facial features. His amber eyes seemed to burn with unseen anger, a long jagged scar ran down his face. From the tip of his eyebrow, running over his eye lid and ending at the corner of his grinning mouth, nothing but another memory. Short grey hair grew from the top of his head, and spread down towards his jaw, forming a neat beard. He was in his late-fifty's but was just as dangerous as he used to be. Sitting in front of him was a woman that used to go by the name of Amélie Lacroix. A woman whose sole assignment was to hunt down and assassinate any agent that went under the name Overwatch. Her slender build making it easy for her to get places others couldn't, to do missions that were meant to be impossible. She was a killer. The moon which shone through the open window, making her purple skin seem to glow with intensity. Her topaz eyes ablaze with anticipation, her mission had been a success. The Omnic Leader known as Mondatta had been killed, with a shot that could only be described as impossible. The news of his death spread across the world like a wild fire, throwing it into anarchy.
His clawed gauntlets twitching with delight as he eyes up his young apprentice. After Talon successfully brainwashed Amélie, she was turned over to him. It was his duty to transform her into the unique killing machine that she was today.
Several minutes passed without either one saying a word, the intense silence only disturbed by the constant sound of the street.
The man reached behind his back and pulled a cream coloured folder out from one of his deep pockets. His eyes never leaving his apprentices stunning golden orbs. He slid the document across the table towards her awaiting hands. Without saying a word she picked it up and started reading her next assignment. He watched with pleasure as one of her eyebrows rose as she continued to read the file. Looking up from the piece of paper and stared at the man she had come to know as master. Confusion and curiosity flashing behind her eyes as she spoke. "…you vill' be accompanying me? As vell' as Reaper?" her words laced with her think accent.
The smile never left the man's lips, the tendons in his jaw tightened as he replied. "This mission is Talons number one priority, there can be no room for mistakes." His deep voice sent chills down her spine. "If we fuck this up, it will mean all our heads… also… twenty Talon agents will be added, it just came in from HQ."
The assassin nodded with agreement, she knew this mission's success was the turning point for Talon. If this mission went as planned they would be praised. Her master was already known though. He had a reputation for having over five hundred confirmed kills, this wasn't definite, but no one would question his word. He was also one of the most known assassins in the world. "Is Reaper already aware of the situation?" Her question hung in the air for a moment before he answered. His constant twitching made her feel unnerved.
"He is aware, and he understands the risks. But I have confidence" He got up from the wooden chair and slowly paced the dimly lit room. The wooden floorboards creaked under his metal feet, his cape brushing gently across the floor. "Reaper is inbound, he should be here in several minutes. Do you have the necessary equipment?"
She didn't verbally respond, but instead nodded as she continued to read the file between her purple fingers.
"Good, we will strike them where they live. We shall attack at twenty three hundred sharp." His eyes glowing like hot coal, the excitement making his back muscles tighten. A devilish grin spreading across his scarred lips. "And we will watch. Them. Burn…"
() OVERWATCH HEADQUARTERS ()
() TIME – 2250 ()
() Agents Currently At Overwatch HQ – Tracer, Mercy, Winston, Zarya, Genji, Hanzo, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Lucio, Mei, , Pharah, Symmetra. ()
"I've been friends with Lena for a long time, and I have never, EVER, seen her act like this. It just isn't her. She's seen people die before, good people. And she's shrugged it off. This time thought, it…it just doesn't make any sense. Why won't she talk it out" Mercy sighed with frustration. All she wanted was Tracer to be back to her old cheerful self. Not this dreary shell of what she used to be.
Genji, Hanzo, Winston, Mercy and Symmetra all sat in the HQ's coffee lounge, trying to figure out what to do for their distressed friend. And for the past hour they figured out, they had no ideas. Symmetra was about to open her mouth when they heard the loud and distinctive sound of Reinhardt's feet, along the corridor's floor. When he walked into the room he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the small gathering. "SO. I'm not invited to the late night tea party, AM I. sureeee use me as a shield when you want, but no tea party for you, Reinhardt." He walked louder than he talked over to the coffee pot and pored himself a mug. His white hair sticking up in several places. He was wearing black sweatpants with large white shirt covering his chest "Why are you even drinking coffee at this hour anyway? Just LOOK at the time. Almost eleven o'clock. That is TOO late for coffee." Reinhardt was about to sit down next to Genji when Winston spoke. "Lena is feeling, well… she isn't herself. She's feeling down and has been crying in her room for hours on end. And she wo-." He didn't get to finish his sentence as Reinhardt threw his mug in the air, spilling its black contents everywhere, staining the red leather of the couch. "AND YOU ARE ALL SITTING OUT HERE LIKE DEAD DUCKS! NO NO NO NO NO, this will NOT DO. I'm going to get her and we will all talk like adults." And with that Reinhardt almost ran towards Tracers room, not hearing Mercy's waning that she doesn't want to be disturbed.
Genji looked at everyone and said, "You know, I sometimes question his intelligence. Each and every one of us has been given the same answer by Lena, what makes him so special. His old age he has made him even more stubborn?"
Hanzo chuckled at his brothers response, "agreed, but don't worry soon we will have another member of the so called 'late night tea party', and then maybe we can figure this out." The archer held his cup within both of his hands, its warmth seeming into his pores.
The familiar sound of Reinhardt's feet echoing down the halls filled their ears again. As he made his way out of the faded corridor he stopped and stared at everyone, a smile spreading from both of his ears. He stepped aside and there stood tracer. The group of people all shot Reinhardt filthy looks, except for Hanzo who placed his cup onto the table in front of him and threw his hands in the air. He stood up and walked to the coffee pot, saying stuff about needing more caffeine for this bullshit.
The group's reactions were of course, understandable. As everyone that was sitting in that room had tried and failed to talk to Tracer, and for many hours to. Yet it only took Reinhardt a few seconds to not only get her to talk to him, but to get her to come with him. And Reinhardt's smug smile was just the icing on the cake.
While Lena had been absent she had wiped most the black mascara off of her pale skin. Her hair had been fixed and was back to its normal look. Her usual deep hazel eyes were bloodstained, and glassy. Her normal tight orange pants had been replaced with black pyjamas, as well her jacket had been cast aside and in its place was a white t-shirt. Her chronal accelerator in its normal place upon her chest The group's reaction made Tracer uncomfortable, she usually loved being the centre of attention, but this made her feel worse. Lena hands started to fidget, unsure on what was happening. All she wanted to do was crawl back into her bed and never come out. As if she could read her mind, Mercy stood up from the couch and pulled Lena into a tight hug. The worth she felt from Mercy was comforting. After a few moments they broke there embrace and sat on the red leather couch as all eyes fell on Tracer. The petit British girl didn't know where to begin, she had kept her friend up because she acted like a two year old. Mercy stroked her hair giving her the courage to speak. "…Um, sorry about all this luv's. I...I didn't realise you all were up because of lil old me. But you all deserve to know." Lena looked at everyone, completely touched that they all really did care about her, but also felt guilt at what she had done to her friends.
Winston spoke up, "Lena, we all have been in the same position. And we all understand how you feel. Mondatta's death is a tragedy, but… life must go on."
Mercy stared at Winston, trying to understand how this was meant to help their friend. Tracer looked like she was struggling to find words, her face was twisted in an abnormal impression. "I…I know, its…it's just…I could have stopped it. I could have saved his life. But… I chose to. I blinked out of the way, and that caused the bullet to hit Mondatta." Fat tears fell down Lena's face, running down her freckled cheeks and down to her chin. "I…I…I could….I could have saved his bloody life." Tracer threw her hands to her face as she cried into them, her small body shuddering with each breath. Mercy wrapped her hands around the small girl again, letting the tears fall on her shoulder. Lena buried her head into the blonde's neck, letting her gentleness sooth the pain away. The rest of the group didn't know what to do. Symmetra placed her prosthetic hand onto her spine, softly rubbing her back. It's cool metal wasn't exactly soothing to Tracer, but it was the thought that counted. Hanzo, Genji and Winston sat on the large couch, unfamiliar for this type of situation. Reinhardt on the other hand looked like he was about to break something, his face was scrunched up in anger. His large muscles tensing making him look even more intimidating.
After a few minutes, Hanzo was the one that broke the dreary silence. "Lena…" Tracer slowly looked up into Hanzo's tired eyes. "We will make her pay for this, she will be brought to justice." His face wore a small smile.
"Come on guys, I think we all need some sleep. I mean it is eleven o'clock. If you want we can continue this in the morning…." Genji stopped and looked directly at his poor friend, he gently cleared his robotic throat and spoke. "Ah Lena, I believe it would help if Jake was here. He can help you through this…he is you boyfriend after all." Genji waited for Tracers response. But it never came. All of their attention was drawn to a sound behind their large flat screen TV, which was mounted on the wall. Reinhardt walked over to it and looked behind the large screen. He turned around to Winston and shrugged. The Large Gorilla looked curiously at the growing sound, he brought up his tablet and said one word. "ATHENA" nothing happened. Winston looked confused, he said her name again. Silence. Then it hit him. "Security's down…SECURITY'S DOWN!" Everyone realised what this meant, but it was already too late, as the wall which Reinhardt was standing in front of. Exploded into flames.
() Five Minutes Before Hand ()
Her liquid yellow eyes bored through her snipers scope, and into the bright blue light of the Chronal accelerator, she longed to fire and rid of the person that caused her so much trouble, her irritating laughter and her childish behaviour. But she knew that it would be the end of her. This mission was far too important to let her desires get the better of her. The Widowmaker was positioned 200 metres away from Overwatch's Headquarters, she was dressed in her usually attire. The freezing cold would probably cause great displeasure to any other woman, but since she had been genetically modified, the coolness of the concrete on her stomach and the bite of the wind was quite pleasant. The only sound that filled her ears was the annoying clicking of the Talon agent next to her. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to stay fixated on his laptop, but his body language was betraying him. Sweat was dripping down his face, even thought it was beyond cold. He also kept fidgeting with the gun that was slung around his shoulder. This man's only job was to disarm the security system and shut down the power, which seemed to be causing him some trouble.
His eyes wandered up again and looked into the blank stare of the woman in front of him. He froze not sure what to do. A shiver ran up his spine as she gave him a smile, it wasn't a normal smile thought, but a smile that seemed to fill him with terror. It was shallow and seemed to highlight her deep piercing eyes, revealing the evil that lurked within her mind. His quickly looked away hoping that she would do the same. But no, she kept staring. As if she was trying to see into his soul. Then, to his displeasure, she spoke. "Ave' you ever killed a man." Her words were dripping in that seductive French accent. "Vhat' did you feel…. Ven you stole zere' life."
The man who was barely over 20, tried desperately to keep his eyes fixed on the assassin, which amused her terribly. "Y-y-yess, mama. I-I-I have taken a life before-"He stopped as the woman before him slowly stood up and brushed her cold violet hands along his cheek. The slender killer leaned in so that her blue lips were barely a hairs breath away from the mans. "Ven' vhat' did you feel." Her breath was surprisingly cool against his lips as he shuddered out his reply.
"It…. It felt invigorating" her mouth turned into an amused smile, as she rested her lips on the man's ear and said "good." As she pulled away she popped a small kiss onto his right cheek.
The man found it easier to look this assassin in her golden eyes, until she spoke again. "Now hurry zat' up….Before I slit your throat." She wasn't given the pleasure of seeing the man's reaction in full affect, as the man only known a Reaper appeared out of a whirlwind of black smoke. He turned his mask towards her and snarled "What are you playing at? Do you think this is a game?" The embodiment of death strode towards the slim assassin. Her face becoming emotionless again as she asked, "Have ze' explosives been set?"
The clocked figure rasped out his response. "Yes. They are set for eleven exactly. What. About. You? " The skull mask turned into the direction of the scared Talon agent, the eye sockets seemed to glow crimson. "….Um uhh well. Yes sir, the security and power are ready to be um. Shut down. Tell me when and ill disable em."
The harbourer of death didn't say anything to the man, but turned to the underdressed woman before him. "Remember the plan, only if you want to choose death. Only limb shots, we don't want them to die….yet. Talon has plans for them, very…unpleasant ones"
The Widowmaker smiled, but her eyes showed the rage she kept locked inside. "Don't vorry' I don't miss….is za' big shot is position."
Reaper drew a ragged breath. "You know, he would kill you if he heard you say that." He turned around from the annoying woman back towards the young Talon agent. "Disable the security, as soon as the explosions go off… kill the power." The clocked figure pulled out both of his shotguns as the agent started to tap furiously at his keyboard.
"….any second" Reaper said this more to himself then his other two companions. The Widowmaker, with much delight, watched through her scope as Reinhardt walked towards the TV. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Reaper start to disappear into a dark cloud of mist. And she could have sworn he said 'boom' just as the explosive went off.