Disclaimer: I do not own Worm. Nor do I own Overwatch. If I did, you'd have seen an Overwatch animated film this year instead of a WoW live action.
Chapter 2. Trigger and Awakening
Pain. That was all I could feel. The excruciating pain as the shockwave released passed through my body. I lay there, not being able to do much else from my position on the ground while my body felt as though it was tearing itself apart. My face felt as if it had been slashed in half, as if someone had tried to recreate Two-Face's appearance with my own. Most people would have passed out already from the pain. For me, I couldn't, wouldn't let myself die until I knew who was responsible.
"Are you alright? What am I saying, of course you're not. Hold on, I'll get some help. Carry him gently, don't jostle him alright?"
It was the voice of a woman, and it was the last thing I heard as my failing vision faded into white.
[Destination]
'Huh?'
[Agreement]
'What the hell are you freaks?'
[Trajectory]
'Where the hell am I?'
[Agreement]
'What's with the knife?'
[Confidence]
'Stop!'
[Renege?]
'Don't act like you can't hear me!'
[Agreement]
'Stop!
You bastards!" I jerked upwards and winced immediately. I could still feel the lingering taste of the damage that my body had undertaken. I had bandages all over my body covering my body as if I were some pharaoh being prepped for burial. Although from how I felt, that analogy wasn't altogether incorrect. After checking my scar-riddled body, I shifted my attention to my surroundings. The dripping of the IV currently stuck to my arm was a surprising but welcome sight. Though the room was nowhere as sterile as an ordinary hospital, but a quick look proved that it contained everything that my previous visits to the ICU had contained. Across the room was a single door that was slightly ajar, letting the sound of the TV float to my ears.
It's been a week since the attack on the Protectorate and the investigation seems to have reached a dead end. The attack that took the lives of 76 PRT troopers, including their commander Jack Morrison, has become the spark that enflamed Congress on the matter of parahumans. The approval rating for a peace keeping organization has risen to an all time high across the country. Hopefully with this backing, the Protectorate …..
"Already up and awake, are you? Thought it would take a week with those injuries."
A female voice cut through the news broadcast like a knife.
"It'll take more than that to kill me." I answered with a grim smile.
"It almost did. I thought for a few times that we were doing necromancy before you stabilized. I've never seen anything like your injuries before."
The woman entered my eyesight and our eyes met. The first thing I noticed was her platinum gold hair, which almost seemed to shine white in the lighting. Combined with her blue eyes, she seemed to be the perfect stereotype Aryan master race. "You healed me?"
"Don't really like the word 'heal'. Heal gives the impression that there's no scars. I treated you, dressed your wounds, even managed to save your eye. Impressive isn't it."
"My eye?" I raised my hand towards my right eye and felt the scar running across my forehead to my right eye along with the one on my left check. "What happened? The last I remember is the blast."
"It was more of a wave than a blast. Everyone else touched by the wave was completely disintegrated. Your body itself was on the verge of breakdown. It took three whole days just for your cells to decide whether they would stay together or not."
"Sounds like a tinker bomb." I rolled my shoulders, testing how my body had recovered. Apart from the soreness of fresh skin and stretching of scars it was remarkable how fine I felt. "And you were the one that uh.. 'treated' me?"
"I can't take all of the credit. I had help."
"Help?" I squinted at her as I tilted my head.
"My daughter. She wants to be a nurse." She showed a faint smile.
"Even if she helped you, I don't think two people would have been enough to heal this sort of damage. You're a parahuman aren't you?"
"Heh. Caught already huh. Linda Ziegler at your service."
"I'm… My name is…."
"Jack Morrison!" A new voice piped up. It was the voice of a young girl who received my full attention. The girl resembled the woman with whom I had been talking to an uncanny point. In fact the only difference seemed to be their age and hairstyles. Whereas Linda sported a short bob cut, the newcomer had her hair tied up into a high ponytail. She also lacked the sarcastic air that my current doctor seemed to ooze as she smiled at me. "That's who you are, isn't it. Jack Morrison, the normal that took down a brute with his bare hands to save his squad in Afghanistan." She looked down at the floor as she said this, a blush decorating her face.
I was silent. Could I say that I was truly Morrison? He was a hero. Someone that was looked up to. I didn't feel like that. All I felt was the guilt of surviving the explosion that took the lives of my men, my brothers and sisters in arms. Something that I could have prevented if I had been more careful.
"Angela, let the man breathe. He just woke up after a weeklong coma. You can get your autograph later." My internal conflict was broken by Linda dragging her daughter aside. "You should be working on your paper. Go on, scram."
The girl, Angela was gently pushed out of the room. "Sorry about her. She gets a bit excited sometimes."
"It's fine." Even I could tell I wasn't convincing her.
"But the point stands. Who are you? Jack Morrison is dead. And I'm getting the feeling you want to keep it that way."
"I'm just a soldier looking for answers for 76 deaths. I'm not too picky on how I get them."
"But how? You're just a normal, what can you do against parahumans?"
"Do you remember your trigger event?" My question took her aback, and she narrowed her eyes.
"You of all people should know that's not something you ask."
"Not the circumstances, the exact moment you realized you had powers." She took a moment to think then frowned.
"No. Should I?"
"Nobody does. Except for one person I know, and while I was asleep I experienced what she described."
"So you're saying you have powers now." She looked skeptic, staring at me as if I was mad.
"Why not? From what I'm told, people trigger when they're pushed to the edge. I think I've crossed it and then some."
"Say for a moment that that's true. You can't take on everyone in your path until you get answers. You have nothing on you and all I can give you are some medical supplies."
I shrugged. "I know a guy. And I know where he keeps his stuff."
"So you're going to show him your face. I thought you military types valued stealth?"
"I know someone who can get me past that. Although whether she'll help me after what I did to her last time is the question." I stared dead into her eyes. "So doctor, when can I leave?"
Author's Note: This is my first fic, as well as the first time I've ever written more than five hundred words on something that wasn't an essay or a school assignment. That being said, I'd appreciate any feedback on my writing, as long as it's not rude and insulting for the sole purpose of being so. I came up with this idea after 6 hours of continued Overwatch. Linda is an OC I introduced in order to make sure that Angela(Mercy for those of you who haven't noticed by now) isn't too old by the time canon comes around.
Next chapter will be an assortments of shorts describing the transformation of a dead man into a rogue vigilante searching answers in the world of capes and worms. Bye bye!
