C'est La Vie

Chapter 1

I'll seek you out

Flay you alive

One more word and you won't survive

And I'm not scared

Of your stolen power

See right through you any hour

Blue Foundation – Eyes on Fire

She held her breath and squinted as she dove through the cloud of smoke and flames that had followed the explosion of Tracer's pulse bomb. Her sniper rifle at the ready she pushed herself off the edge of the building. Time seemed to slow down as she move through the air. Raising her rifle she carefully peered through the scope and exhaled slowly, steadying her aim. Her target was right in front of her, a mere 10 feet away, falling through the night air as the young brunette slowly came to her senses. Widowmaker knew she didn't have much time to pull the trigger. As soon as the Brit regained all of her senses and assessed the situation she was in she would blink out of the assassin's line of sight to safety. Still she took her time and relished this moment. It was a perfectly lined up shot. Through her infra-sight she could see Thekartha Mondatta's heat signature glowing a bright red directly behind Tracer. She would either kill this foolish little girl or her target. Either one was fine by her.

Before her she could see the eyes of the small Brit open wide, fear and desperation evident in those bright, hazel eyes, as she fully came to her senses. A very self-satisfied smirk made it's way onto Widowmaker's face as her right index finger squeezed the trigger. The assassin watched as the bullet erupted from the muzzle of her rifle and was set on it's deadly path, as did Tracer. Desperate to escape her fate, the Overwatch member activated her chronal accelerator just in time to transport herself out of time only a split second before the bullet penetrated the air where her chest would have been. Unhindered in it's path, Widowmaker watched with delight as the bullet buried itself inside Thekartha Mondatta's head, knocking the Omnic onto it's back from the impact.

Her job was done.

Quickly sending out her grappling hook she swung herself up on one of the rooftops, watching as panic took over the crowd on King's Row. She heard the trademark sound of Tracer reappearing on the nearest building. She focused her attention on the young girl, who was frantically checking herself and her accelerator for any damage. Unable to find any, Tracer looked up at Widowmaker, confusion evident on her face. The assassin only chuckled, very amused by the girl's reaction. "Looks like the party is over." she said, sounding very pleased with herself. Her statement only seemed to confuse Tracer more as the girl struggled to make sense of the taller woman's words. When she finally figured out what Widowmaker was implying the confusion in her features changed to fear and shock as she sprinted to the edge of the roof, staring unbelievingly down at the panicking crowd and the lifeless body of the Omnic monk.

"Oh no, no...no, no, no!" Tracer exclaimed, her voice desperate at first, became louder and angrier with each word. Widowmaker, still relishing the moment, was unprepared as the girl activated her chronal accelerator a second time, zipping through time with an angry scowl on her face, before reappearing only inches away from the assassin and crashing into her. The momentum sent both of them flying back, skidding across the rooftop in an entangled mass of limbs. Though she was caught off guard, Widowmaker still had the wits about her to send her grappling hook out, lodging it into a brick chimney not too far away.

The two of them came to a slithering halt on the very edge of the roof, as Tracer pinned the blue-skinned assassin down beneath her. Widowmaker was about to use the remainder of their momentum to throw Tracer off her, but something in the way the girl looked at her, her hazel eyes clouded by anger and sadness stopped her from fighting back.

"WHY!?" the young Brit demanded, anger evident in her face and desperation coating her voice. "Why would you do this?" she asked, her pained voice barely a whisper. Widowmaker could see tears starting to form in Tracer's eyes, pooling on top of her lower eyelid and glinting in the dim light of the moon and the city lights. The assassin could have easily fought back, she could have thrown the smaller girl over the edge off the roof, she could have thrown her to the side and reversed their position to gain the upper hand, or just pulled the knife out of her boot and killed this foolish Brit right there on the spot. It would have been so easy. So painfully easy. Yet she couldn't do it. She was unable to move as she stared up into those glazed over, hazel eyes, that were filled with so much pain and sadness. She could feel something stir inside her, a feeling that erupted in her chest without warning. It felt as though someone was pulling an invisible rope tight around her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Widowmaker didn't know what to do. This feeling was so strange and unknown to her, yet she felt like it was something she had been all too familiar with. How could this be? She was supposed to feel exhilarated, triumphant. She had eliminated her target even though a member of Overwatch had tried to intervene. Why wasn't she feeling the satisfaction of the kill?

Slowly, the older woman opened her mouth to say something, but no sound would escape her. She was unable to form words as her head tried to make sense of her situation and this new... 'emotion'.

Obviously the young Brit had picked up on Widowmaker's inability to form words or fight back and she furrowed her brow as confusion chased away most of the anger in her face.

"Wha..." the brunette tried but was interrupted by the sound of a fighter jet appearing over the edge on the other side of the building, it's searchlight flickering briefly over the entire roof before fixing itself on the duo.

This was Widowmaker's cue to leave. Her escape ride. Briskly shaking her head in an attempt to focus on what was important, she pushed her confused thoughts to the back of her mind. She couldn't be seen in this position by Talon, they might think she had become weak and that was not a good thing.

Luckily the appearance of the fighter jet had also gotten Tracer's attention, who had turned her head to the side to see what was going on behind her. Using this distraction to her advantage, Widowmaker grabbed the small Brit by the collar of her jacket as she vaulted herself backwards over the edge of the roof, taking Tracer along with her. Their eyes locked for a brief second mid-air. The blue-skinned assassin could clearly see the look of utter surprise etched into Tracer's features while a single teardrop slowly rolled down her left cheek only to be caught by the edge of her goggles. Their faces were only inches away from each other and Widowmaker could see every freckle on the younger girl's face, she could feel her breath on her skin and the heat of her body radiating off of her small frame. Then the moment was broken as they crashed into the side of the tall building.

Tracer took the brunt of it, crashing into the concrete wall with her back and a pained grunt escaped her as the impact forced the air out of her lungs. Widowmaker was sure she heard something crack but wasn't entirely sure if it was the advanced tech the brunette was wearing or maybe one of her ribs, or both. The impact had loosened her grip on the girl's coat and she watched as the youngest Overwatch member slipped down the side of the building and fell several stories down only to land on top of a smaller house with a loud crush that sent sparks flying from her chronal accelerator.

The assassin hung in mid air for a moment, her gaze fixed on the small frame of the girl lying beneath her. She didn't feel the satisfaction of having defeated an enemy, instead the strange, constricting feeling from earlier snaked it's way back into her consciousness. With grater effort than she'd like to admit, she tore her eyes away from Tracer's beaten form, who was only now starting to move again, slowly and unsteadily and obviously in a lot of pain. Widowmaker made her way up the concrete wall back to the top of the building, climbing over the edge and straightening herself, before she dislodged her grappling hook from it's place in the brick chimney. The fighter jet had landed on the roof, it's cargo door wide open to welcome her and escort her back to the Talon base. Taking one step forward, she hesitated. Somehow this didn't feel right, yet it was how it had always been. Eliminate the target, then get back to the base. Why was it so hard now? What was holding her back?

She threw a look over her shoulder, where Tracer was still lying on the lower roof. The girl had propped herself up on one arm, the other one clutching her side. Her chronal accelerator was flickering in irregular intervals, sending out the occasional show of bright, blue sparks. Widowmaker couldn't see the Brit's face as she was lying on her side, back turned towards the taller woman, but even without having to see these bright, hazel eyes, she knew that the girl was in much pain.

A voice called out to her through the cool night air, telling her to hurry up and beckoning her towards the fighter jet. She obliged, turning her head away from Tracer's pained form she walked straight towards the open hatch only stopping briefly to pick up her rifle where it had fallen onto the concrete roof when Tracer had knocked her back. The moment she stepped onto the polished metal that was the interior of the Talon fighter jet it took off, leaving the rooftops of London behind with incredible speed. This time Widowmaker didn't look back as the cargo door closed behind her. Now she had to be professional. She had to report back to Talon and get her new assignment and there was absolutely no room for strange emotions. She would have to figure them out at a later point if she really had to, though she wasn't looking forward. Something told her that dealing with these emotions wasn't going to be easy.

OWOWOWOWOW

Lena Oxton was lying on the cold, hard concrete of one of the rooftops in King's Row, gritting her teeth and trying her best to ignore the pain coursing through her entire body. She had tried her best to stop the Talon assassin from killing Mondatta but she had failed miserably. Broken and defeated, she tried to prop herself up on one arm in an attempt to get up, as a wave of pain rippled through her side. Her free hand immediately gripped the lower left side of her ribcage, but it did nothing to ease the pain. She suspected that at least one, if not more of her ribs had been broken either from her crashing into the side of the building or her fall onto the lower rooftop. She knew she had to get up. She was in a very bad position and this blue-skinned woman that had quite expertly used every trick in the book to defeat her now had all the time in the world to finish the job. But the final blow never came.

Tracer wasn't sure how long she lay there on the roof, clutching her side and trying desperately to regain control of her body, but when she heard the howl of the engines of the fighter jet above come to life, she knew the assassin was leaving. Why was she leaving and not killing her? Maybe she thought that Tracer's wounds would get the best of her or that she was in such a bad shape the local authorities would pick her up soon enough. And if Lena didn't move fast that would be the case. Already she could hear sirens in the distance, announcing the arrival of every military and government organization inside and outside of London. Thekartha Mondatta had been a high priority target. He had had a huge following of people who believed in him. He had tried his best to bring peace to the world and now he was dead because Tracer had failed in her duty. If any of the local authorities found her here they were sure to detain her immediately.

"Lena, what happened?" she heard Winston's voice crackle through the communicator in her ear. "I saw the news, are you alright? Speak to me!"

"He's dead, Winston." Tracer said, voice strained. "He's dead because I couldn't save him." tears started to form in her eyes once again.

"Don't say that, Lena, you're a professional now quit whining and act like it. We need to get you out of there, the police are all over your location. Are you hurt? Can you get to the extraction zone?"

"I... I think I broke a few ribs and my accelerator took a really bad hit." she said through gritted teeth.

"Dammit!" Winston shouted. "Can you hide somewhere? I'll get you out of there as soon as I can, I promise." Tracer could hear him type something on his keyboard and various other noises she couldn't place.

"Better hurry, big boy. Dunno if I can keep my eyes open for much longer." she said, grimacing as she willed herself onto her knees.

"Hang in there kiddo, help is on the way! Just hang on, okay?"

OWOWOWOWOW

Widowmaker was back at Talon Headquarters. She had succeeded in the elimination of her target, had been debriefed by her superiors and had been given a new target before she was sent to her personal quarters to prepare for her next assignment.

Her new job was simple. Her target, the head of a Brazilian weapons manufacturer, would be an easy kill. Still, she did what she had always done to prepare for the job, which was to thoroughly research her target.

Part of her training was to sniff out every little detail, every routine, every quirk her target had, no matter how insignificant it may appear. That was why she was so effective. Because she knew her targets just as well as they knew themselves.

The blue-skinned woman sat in her quarters in front of an array of monitors, browsing through several different websites, news broadcasts and surveillance vids featuring her new target. She was trying her best to concentrate on the task at hand but every now and again the memories of her fight with Tracer resurfaced, along with the odd, unpleasant emotion she had felt when the Brit had had her pinned down. She knew that she had felt like this before, but she couldn't recall when and why just like she couldn't pin a name on it either.

Bringing up Talon's internal database she typed in the name of the obnoxious British girl. She knew the contents of the page. She had read the files on every known Overwatch operative to get a sense of their strengths and weaknesses, but she decided to read these specific files again, regardless.

Name: Lena Oxton

Call Sign: Tracer

Birthplace: United Kingdom

Date of Birth: Unknown

Age: approx. 26

Height: 1,62M/ 5'4"

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Affiliations: Overwatch Pilot (former), Overwatch Agent (disbanded)

Status: Active

Abilities: Subject is able to control the flow of time to her own advantage through the use of a 'Chronal Accelerator' which she wears around her chest. She is reported to be extremely quick, disappearing and reappearing in different locations at a moment's notice. The Subject uses two pulse pistols with high precision as a means of attack, as well as utilizing potent explosives.

Extreme caution is advised when engaging the Subject.

Last seen: London, United Kingdom

Current Location: Unknown

There wasn't much else stored in the files aside from a few pictures of Tracer in her uniform. Next, Widowmaker flipped through various news articles, the majority of them covering the recent assassination of Mondatta and Tracer's alleged involvement in it. Apparently the brunette had mingled with the crowd before the speech and had left in a hurry soon after it started. There was one short, low quality video that showed the young girl falling off the roof following an explosion, then cut out after the sound of gunfire could be heard. One article stated that the Brit had previously to her falling from the roof, infiltrated a secure communications channel used by Mondatta's guards. All in all the news made it look like Tracer was the prime suspect in the Omnic's assassination as she had disappeared right after the attack.

This should please Widowmaker. It meant she had done an excellent job. Not only had she killed the one being that could truly unite humans and machines, but she had also managed to stay undetected. Now the world blamed the former Overwatch agent, sowing even more distrust and hate for the former members of this supposedly heroic and selfless Organization. It should indeed please her, but it didn't.

Her chest once again felt as if something was pressing down on it. Why was she feeling like this? Why was she feeling anything at all? She wasn't supposed to. She was a killer. Patient, precise, merciless.

With a gesture of her hand she closed all tabs on the holographic display and stood up from her desk. She needed a distraction from these thoughts, but first and foremost, she needed a shower. Crossing the dimly lit room she opened a sliding door on the far end and stepped into the spacious bathroom. Shedding her tight bodysuit she stepped into the shower as water began to gush from multiple shower heads built into the ceiling and the walls, drenching her immediately. The water was cold, like it always was. Widowmaker didn't like hot things as her body was especially sensitive to higher temperatures. Raising her head she closed her eyes as the water splashed onto her face. She untied the ribbon that was keeping her hair in place and ran her hands through it, enjoying the sensation.

She stood there for some time, almost unmoving, trying to clear her head and force every unwanted thought out of it, but somehow her thoughts always returned to the events that occurred earlier tonight. Images of Tracer's face flashed before her inner eye. Her expressions going from anger to desperation, to confusion, then to something else the assassin couldn't place. It was frustrating. A scowl on her face, she opened her eyes and cranked up the water temperature. As the water turned from cold to lukewarm then to hot she gritted her teeth as the temperature reached a point where it felt almost as if it was burning her entire body. This self-torment she inflicted upon herself at least succeeded in clearing her mind for some time as she focused solely on the pain she was experiencing.

She didn't know how long she stood there, the water scalding her body. When she turned off the flow of the water she was almost expecting to see her skin covered in burns, but it was the same pristine blue color it had always been.

The hot water had created a dense fog in the room that clung to every smooth surface it could find. Widowmaker stepped out of the shower and moved to the sink, wiping at the mirror to clear away the condensation. Her own face stared back at her, expression blank and undecipherable. It told nothing of the fight that went on behind those bright, yellow eyes.

"What did she do to you?" she asked herself in a low whisper, half expecting her mirror image to answer her. She didn't know what this obnoxious little girl had done to her, just as she didn't know if she wanted to find out. She only knew one thing. Whatever it was she was feeling, it wasn't good. Not for her, not for her mission, not for Talon. If they found out she was having trouble focusing, that she was growing weak, they would surely kill her.

Knowing this she also knew there was only one way to deal with this situation.

She had to kill Tracer.

Well, hello there people of the interwebs. I won't keep you for long, just wanted to say a few things: I've gotten into Overwatch quite recently and fallen head over heels for the WidowTracer ship, so I decided to try and fabricate a story about these two. Thankfully, Blizzard has mostly only given us snipbits of the story so far, so I can get away with filling in the blanks as i see fit. That being said, I will change some of the details and the timeline to fit the story, especially in the later chapters (yes this will probably, hopefully, fingers crossed, be a multichapter story).

Also I have to warn you, I am not a very regular updater and I tend to lose interest in writing rather quickly (I know, I'm a horrible person) but I wanted to upload this one regardless. I'll try to update at least every few weeks but I make no promises, as it takes me quite some time to write just one chapter... (second languages be damned!)

Oh and if you could be so kind as to overlook some of the errors I've made, that would be great (insert meme here).