Chapter 1

"oh Winston, I got your favourite!" Tracer giggled as she startled the great ape, swinging upside down behind him. The low hum of Watchpoint Gibraltar's many screens buzzed with information as Winston cast an eye over it all. Outside, the hustle and bustle of a military base was on display for the pair as the base wound down for the night, the golden sunset cast a warm feeling of wholeness over pair as Winston's fingers danced over the keyboard.

"For last time, no more banana's" he replied, sighing at the screen in front of him.

"Whats wrong big guy?" Tracer asked, blinking to the floor and coming to his side.

"Nothing!"

"So whats the problem?" she asked again

"No, that is the problem, the omnium in London has begun to show signs of awakening for weeks and nothing has happened" he replied, frustrated. "Usually these things wake up and invade the nearest city but this one has been building omnics for the better half of a year without any incident."

"Well Morrison is over there taking a look so there's nothing to worry about yer big worry pot" Tracer said beaming, putting Winston at ease instantly.

Suddenly Lena's communicator chirped loudly and Lena bolted to her room, a blue trail echoing her steps as it tried to follow her. Being alone made Winston restless once more, Tracer seemingly taking all the confidence in the room with her as she left.

Flopping onto the bed Tracer tapped the pad and a picture of Emily sprung forth. "Hello baby" she said in a thick northern accent.

"Someone's happy" Lena replied, smiling.

"Our petition to the government was passed, we can talk to the omnics inside the omnium" she said, the elation in her voice was palpable.

"Fantastic!" Lena said

"Isn't it just?" came the reply "I'll be the one saving the world this time, Lena, just you watch"

"I will!" Lena said coyly "…very closely"

"Well that is half the reason I do this job" Emily said honestly.

"That means it's your treat tonight, love" Tracer quipped, biting her lip.

"Hmmm" came the reply "I can't wait" she added and they both giggled.

The pair ended the call just as Angela entered the room. "Lena, Morrison wants us at the Omnium in King's Row to guard the human delegation" She said softly, picking at some dried blood under her nail. She leaned against the frame of the doorway, the light of the corridor blasting behind her as she looked down on Lena, a look of pity flashed momentarily across her face before returning to the warm maternal glow, which usually occupied its exterior. She stepped forward and offered Tracer a hand, smiling warmly. Tracer looked at the outstretched palm and giggled.

"I ent going nowhere near your minging hand Angie" she said, blinking to her feet. "I doubt God knows where they've been."

Just then McCree rounded the corner. "You ready to go kiddo?" he asked cheerfully, his long southern drawl made Angela flutter her brows as she drank in the man's appearance.

"I think Angie is for sure, love" Tracer chuckled and darted off, leaving the two alone and very embarrassed.

The team boarded the VTOL excitedly and efficiently, Morrison's barking over the radio did little to neuter the mood as the team, which consisted of Mercy, Tracer, Winston and McCree, settled into the loading bay for the short flight from Gibraltar. Soon enough the team were high above London, having traded the warm glow of the Spanish sunset for the cool and biting dark of an English night.

"I do love comin' back" Lena said, looking out of the window. Lena looked at McCree who agreed and took a sip of his whisky. "I used to cause so much trouble as a kid, Emily would always come home to my house, telling my Mum that I'd been nicked…" she paused for effect, "again."

"You sound exactly like me, darlin" McCree laughed.

"s'pose I do" Lena trailed off, remembering McCree's involvement in Blackwatch and how lucky it was that he was saved by Morrison, not Gabriel. Lena fought back the memory that had become synonymous with Reaper: the birth of Widowmaker. Lena never really knew her, though she knew Gerard well, she'd only met Amelie twice. It was hard to see the appeal of her back then, she was snotty, sophisticated, arrogant and brash, she was… "French" she whispered quietly to herself as she looked down at Kings Row, where she'd last met Widowmaker before letting out a chuckle. She was very French.

Widowmaker however, was a different story, Tracer had met her many times and every time ended with one of them winning but sparing the other, the rivalry they shared was well known and it was something both sides sought to exploit as they tried to draw each other out. Widowmaker was cold and calculating, she was strange and exotic, she retained her French arrogance of course, but there was something to Widowmaker that Tracer found appealing. Though she'd never admit it, Lena was often gripped by anxiety. Her condition meant that she could disappear at any moment. Disassociation is an unearthly experience. It's breathing in nothingness, its losing days on end with nno recollection, it is disorientation and endless painful emotion. Emotion that the Widowmaker was free from.

The older ship shook and clattered as it hit turbulence over Canary Wharf, sending a slightly buzzed McCree stumbling into Winston. Who jumped, thinking they were under attack. Mercy, who came to stand near Tracer, giggled with the young woman as they watched McCree try to calm him down, clattering about the bay in a mess of limbs, poncho and combat suit.

"McCree, you moron!" he said, exacerbated by the shock.

"Sorry, partner" the bulky American replied, picking his hat from the floor. "Driver!" he shouted as he tried to change the subject, "How long until we reach Kings Row?"

"We're here, Sir!" came the reply as the bay doors opened and the team stepped off into the street. The area had been evacuated save for the mass of pro-omnic activists and the human delegation to the omnics in the factory. Armed police were everywhere and several men in suits approached them as Lena gawked at the familiar architecture. She loved her home, the Crooked Goose Pub was where she met her first, and last, boyfriend and looking down the street she saw its familiar shape, warped and old fashioned were the struts which held it up. Lena smiled as she realised, perhaps for the first time, that the reason she loved her home so much was its refusal to be replaced. Here, gothic architecture was intertwined with new age technology and home design, it was cramped and yet spacious, economical and practical. It was like herself in that respect, she often came across as childlike, she was stubborn too, all because of her chronal disassociation.

She was so enthralled by her surroundings that she missed the long drawn out speech the suited man gave. Unfortunately for her he beckoned for her to follow him.

"Thanks for coming, Tracer" he said warmly as the others retreated to their respectively assigned stations. "Tensions are rising here" He began. "People want to go home, want to accept the omnics, kill the omnics etcetera". He walked down the street towards the old pub. "Me and my friends are great fans of your work, Tracer" he said, looking forward and with a smug confidence that Tracer couldn't quite discern the necessity for.

"Who are those mates of yours then… mister?"

"Oh, that's not important" he replied hastily, "I represent the governments interests regarding this matter" he added as they reached the entrance to the pub. "Who I am would complicate things, we need clarity now, don't you think?"

"I suppose that's fair" Tracer replied, crossing her arms as the man rounded the bar.

"Drink?" he asked.

"Tea please"

He looked at her.

"I am on the job love" Lena said half laughing.

"That's true" the man said with a chuckle. "I forget most people don't have my luxuries" he said, pouring a scotch.

"Best not forget either, love" Lena warned, half serious "bad things happen to big men that put little guys down for too long."

"Oh contraire" he said slyly, "you're not a little person at all, are you, Miss Oxton?"

"What do you mean by that?" Tracer replied, somewhat unnerved as the gentleman lit a cigarette. It was the first time she took note of him. He was about six foot, sharply dressed in a smoky grey three-piece tailored suit, presumably from a shop on Savile Row, complete with brown half inch heeled boots and a black tie, tied into an immaculate Windsor knot. He was an older man, late fifties by Tracer's estimate. He had an impressive greying beard which covered most of his face. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of gold aviators, despite it being well after 9PM.

"I mean you're a celebrity, you're powerful, more powerful than my money and influence anyway." He smiled, "it's almost enviable" he added, flashing a Rolex as he moved about deliberately, taking a long drag on the cigarette.

"The reason, as you're probably wondering, for asking for a private moment with you, Lena is that I have a favour to ask." He spoke softly now, almost embarrassed in fact, by what was coming next. "I'd like an autograph, if it's not too much." He looked away. Lena was sure that beneath that salt and pepper beard was a rosy blush.

Lena burst out laughing. "Of course, love!" she giggled, playfully punching the older gentleman in the arm. "Who's it for?"

"Emily" he said. Tracer froze looking him straight in the eye. "She's my daughter" he continued as Tracer relaxed. "she adores you so much. She always says that she has to do the right thing because it's what Tracer does and because the world could always use more heroes." His words were soaked in a pure and angelic kind of honesty.

Lena blinked over the bar, rummaging through the junk before holding up an old polaroid. "Kaspar, the owner, always keeps this under here" she said, coming to stand beside him and snapping a selfie. She wrote her message on the rear of the photo.

Emily,

Never be afraid to do the right thing! The world could always use more heroes!

Love,

L. Oxton

She handed the photo to him and noticed his cufflinks, an eagle moments from the kill, it too seemed familiar. Lena opened her mouth when a commotion was heard outside. It was familiar, it was the sound of her girlfriend, Emily.

She was squaring up to Morrison, shouting him down as he held her back. "You can't be here, lady, it's not safe!" Morrison said, his paternal side showing as he tanked a blow to the shoulder from a protester.

"Hey Morrison" Lena shouted, darting over. "What's the problem? She has permission to be here!" Tracer demanded as Morrison became visibly uncomfortable. "She has a government order, Morrsion, we are mercenaries, not Overwatch" she added quickly, scowling up at the imposing man.

"If she goes in there I can't guarantee she'll come back out" he replied angrily, staring her down.

"You said it was safe!"

"I said there were no signs of activity, there's a difference" he reiterated.

Tracer looked at Emily who looked down on her warmly, they knew Emily would have a chance to try again and she nodded in acknowledgement. "She comes with us, you can't stop her" Tracer said firmly.

The group approached the omnic assembly line, which ominously ceased production as Morrison opened the door. Inside, hundreds of omnics lined the rooms, all dormant and silent. "Okay we'll go with the original plan" Morrison spoke over the radio as he moved swiftly to the control room. The rest guarded Emily as she breathed in, preparing herself. "Right, I'm going to try and - ." Morrison said gravely before cutting out.

"Morrison?" Mercy said quickly, "sitrep!" she added hastily. No reply came, instead, the omnics lit up and stood to attention. The team formed a circle, drawing their guns. One omnic began beeping as Emily reached out to it.

"We're here as friends" she spoke bravely.

The omnic closest to her stepped forward. It's mechanical limbs cranked and clanged as it approached her. Its light went red and it clamped an arm around her. Lena screamed out but the rest moved forward as the beeping omnic began to glow, heating up. Emily was dragged into the crowd as the other omnics advanced, McCree fired at an omnic as it lunged and all hell broke loose. The close proximity of the fight meant that Tracer was not able to blink, only recall to avoid a punch or grapple. The team were slowly pushed back as the hundreds of omnics advanced. The beeping omnic exploded, knocking Tracer down. Emily could be heard screaming as she was dragged away. Winston picked her up as members of the metropolitan police rushed in and fired on the omnics, preventing the team from being surrounded. With a path of escape revealed, the team ran as Morrison slipped out a side door to re-join them. At that moment, the omnics paused and all began to beep. Tracer froze in Winston's arms as she realised the omnium would come down on Emily when they exploded. It took Winston and Morrison to prevent her returning inside as they got back to the safe zone.

They stopped as the droning bleeps hit their climax, morphing into a singular tone, Lena whispered "No" as the omnium burst into flames, detonating the entire block and everything that surrounded it. Tracer fell to the ground as an EOD team approached the site of the blast with a detachment of soldiers who arrived just as the explosion hit. Mercy and Morrison tended the wounded, which included McCree as a chunk of glass protruded from his left arm and cheek. Winston bounded off to help the explosives team back in the omnium as he vowed to find Emily.

Lena dumbly approached the smouldering remains of the Crooked Goose, its ashen carcass was bare, save for a wooden slab that used to be the bar. She looked under it and saw LO + EV carved into the side. It was scorched and charred but it had survived. Lena carved it before her first date with Emily for luck. Lena felt numb as she left the remains of the pub and entered the crater left by the omnium. Most of it was gone and Winston at the bottom with the bomb disposal team, finishing off the surviving omics. She noticed the west side of the building had survived and she rushed through the door, turning through corridor after corridor until she reached the control room.

There stood widowmaker, and next to her, the body of Emily slumped in a corner, bleeding out from a single shot to the gut. "You!" Lena cried, as Widowmaker turned nonchalantly.

"Oui?" she said, a wry grin spreading across her face.

Lena jumped into action, blinking forward and punching, knocking Widowmaker backwards as she ripped a downloader from the socket and spun back, landing a kick to Tracer's calf, knocking her down. This is how Tracer and Widowmaker were. A brutal dance of death performed by two artists as the pair weaved in and out, up and down, left and right. Often not hitting at all, just moving, waiting for a chance to strike. Like a game of chess each of them moved like masters as the pair became a blur of blue and purple. Tracer hit a right hook but Widowmaker was unfazed, countering with an uppercut which knocked Tracer back. Tracer blinked left to right as the assassin fired her rifle, missing in on case by millimetres. Then, as she got close, Tracer saw her chance and recalled. Widowmaker fell over a reappearing foot as Tracer unleashed her pistols upon her. They missed as Widowmaker fired a grappling hook down the hall and zipped away, leaving a venom mine behind to prevent her foe from pursuing. Lena was disinterested though, as she scrambled to Emily's side before embracing her dying friend.

"I love you Trace" she whispered, her body like ice. "Never forget that" she croaked.

"I won't, love, I won't ever" Lena said, sobbing

"Trace, I'm sorry" she said finally, her body going limp

"Don't ever be Emily, don't you ever be" Lena replied to no one as her cries pierced the now silent air.

Winston burst in, and growled, he'd loved Emily too and was bordering on rage. He stopped as he noticed the file that Widowmaker had left was half downloaded. "She'd been looking for the security footage, where its remote storage is" he said as Lena sniffed, still holding Emily. "But that makes no sense, surely she knew what was going on" he asked himself. His primal rage receding as his inquisitive, scientific mind took over.

"Unless she wasn't responsible" Lena said dryly.

"I don't even want to have to consider that" Winston agreed, "Morrison has already said not to pursue her"

"If he thinks I'll listen to that order he's learnt nothing" Lena said defiantly "we know where she's going, so from now on, that's we'll go" Lena seethed. Winston sighed but agreed, before suggesting that they leave immediately.

Lena laid her partner to rest that night, taking her to the Oxton family home to be cremated. A grand old building, it was a relic of a bygone age however, it's gates were rusting at the edges and the grounds grew rough around the edges as the lone groundsman struggled loyally but in vain against the fauna as it grew upon the old brickwork like a cancer. The rain coursed along the windows of the black Rolls Royce as Lena stroked Emily's flame red hair. Her lover that was gently sleeping. She looked at the fall of the leaves along the driveway, lining the road like soldiers stood to mourn their last king. Lena burnt the body under the old marble arches of the country home as the massive estate seemed to weep. The flames warmed Lena, rain pouring down the side of the gazebo which she'd played in as a child and she wept. The embers slowly dulled as Lena sat, her legs crossed with her back to the burned-out casket and hours passed as the dark rainy autumnal night regressed to a silent and foggy morning. Lena placed her ashes in an ornate obsidian vase and left them on the table of her family mansion.

There were no Oxton's left but Marcus, her butler, kept the place looking presentable. Lena had a lot of skeletons in her closet, all of them kept in this wretched place, and decided that for now, her girlfriend would be one of them.

Until, at least, she killed the Widowmaker.