"You destroyed our plan."
"Look at him, Gabriel! I couldn't just leave him! There were too many of them, more than we thought--"
"You know better than to call me that, Sombra. And yes. You should have left him."
"They were torturing him!"
"I've watched countless people tortured to death. Not a single time have I compromised my identity and mission for their sakes." Reaper heaves a heavy, frustrated sigh. "Sombra, I think it's time for you to go."
My eyes snap open. I'm lying on the floor in Talon's base, on a small cot, wrapped up in a sheet. Sombra and Reaper are both standing over me and in the corner of the room I spot Roadhog, leaning against the wall but still very alert.
"Fine," Sombra says. "Fine. I'll go. I don't need you." She turns round but Reaper grabs her arm with a claw-like hand.
"Not with all our intel you won't," he growls. Widow steps up out of nowhere and places a small assassin's pistol at the base of Sombra's skull. Sombra goes quite still.
"The way I see it," Reaper says, "we have three choices. We could let you stay and risk our identities being exposed by association with you--" Widowmaker flicks off the safety-- "or we could let you run free with valuable information--" Widow cocks the gun-- "or, we could kill you." He steps closer, holding both Sombra's arms so tight I can see her skin going white around his fingers. "As head of this organization," he says, so quiet I can barely hear, "there is only one option that appeals to me."
"Oi. Oi mate." I force myself to sit up, though my body screams in protest. Sombra's eyes flick toward me and she mouths, "Jamie, don't." But I ignore her. She's saves my life twice now. I am not letting her die.
"Stay out of this, foolish boy," Widow says. "Or do you want to be killed along with your lover?"
"She ain't my lovah, you cow," I tell her in the most pleasant of voices. "Not yet, anyways. I was just wonderin if there ain't another option you're forgetting." I shoot a glance at Hog. "Like, say, I dunno... the three of us blowing this place sky-high and escaping, never to be seen again?" And I wait for Hog to bring out the big guns.
Reaper laughs. And Widow pulls the trigger.
It's almost funny, the way Sombra's body goes limp in Reaper's grasp. The way she crumples to her knees. The way her head lolls to the side and its weight pulls her down, her body slumping across my legs, the hot blood from her skull coloring the sheet a deep velvety red.
I stare into her eyes. Huge and brown. She doesn't blink. She could win a staring contest. Worldwide staring championship goes to... and the big winner is... Bee, with the big beautiful brown eyes. I reach out and poke her nose with a finger. "Boop," I say, and giggle because she ignores me. She doesn't even move.
I remember everything else in a kind of dream. More gunfire. I wrap the little beaut up in my arms and hold her tight, trying to keep her warm. All her warmth is coming out through the little hole in her neck and desperately, I try to hold it in, my palm pressed hard to the back of her head. I rock back and forth, holding her tight and pressing my lips to her forehead as it goes cold. I don't know why she's not talking to me. I think it must have something to do with the fact that I kissed her. But she said everything was fine.
Mako, the big git, tries to get me to leave her. I start crying, though there's really nothing to cry about. She's fine, I tell him. She's exhausted. We have to get her somewhere safe. And so I carry her, tiny little sweetheart with the warmth draining out of her, and I use Mako to prop me up as we go.
We don't walk far. Thank goodness. Bee is a little hard to carry with half an arm missing. Mako helps me set her down in the corner of an abandoned building, and I flop down on my belly next to her, gazing into her face with a dazed smile.
When Mako tells me the news I can barely breathe, I'm sobbing so hard. "She's fine!" I scream. "Don't you say things like that, you bastard! She's fine! She's not - she can't--" And then I look at her again. And just like Mum, her eyes are open, and they don't close.
I pull her close. There's no warmth left in her.
This time, I am old enough to know what death is. I am old enough to understand that I will never talk to her again. Or laugh with her, or kiss her. But right now, I don't think I understand any of that. I just lie down next to her and curl up, and cry myself to sleep in her arms.
She sacrificed everything for me. I don't understand it. I didn't ask for it. And so I hate her for it. Hate her and love her more than I've hated or loved before.
I wake up screaming again tonight. But this time when I open my eyes, the reality is worse than the dream. Roadie pulls me toward him and all I can think is, Kill me. Please. If you ever cared about me, kill me, before I kill myself.
I don't want to live through this kind of pain again.
Dawn comes slowly, laboriously. A pidgeon coos nearby, outside the building, and mist spills in through the broken window. Life goes on.
"We need to move," Roadie says. "They'll be after us."
I barely notice him. I'm still lying on the floor, staring at the mold on the ceiling. Gently, Roadie helps me to sit up, and offers me his flask.
"Drink," he says.
Slowly my eyes trace down to the flask in his hand. Then I find his face. His mask is off. He looks so tired today, and that's my fault.
Roadie sighs softly, then puts the flask to my lips and pours the water into my mouth. Most of it spills down my front with an icy-cold shock. That shock wakes me up just enough so I can take the flask in my own shaking hand and tip the rest down my throat.
"Good," he says. "Can you get up?"
I ignore him, and crawl on my knees over to Sombra's body. She's gone impossibly cold overnight. Her skin is icy to the touch. "We have to take her," I say, my voice raw.
"Jamie. Listen," he begins, but I shake my head violently.
"We can't leave her here," I say. "We have to bury her. At least let me bury her."
He hesitates, then finally nods.
As Hog gathers up our things and I'm hoisting Sombra onto my shoulders, something small clatters out of her pocket to the wood floor. I start when a holographic projection shoots up between me and Hog. The figure of a man revolves in 3D, and above him are the words,
Commander Jack Morrison
[CLASSIFIED]
2015 - 2052 , 2052 - present
Location: Currently Unknown
Doctor's note: The patient's posthumous operation went as planned. Better than expected, in fact. He seems his normal self again. I shall continue monitoring until further notice.
Dr. A. Ziegler, M.D.
I have to read over it several times before I can wrap my head around the meaning. But slowly, ever so slowly, it dawns on me. And then I smile, and snatch the hologram off the ground before readjusting Sombra on my shoulders.
"Oi, Hoggy," I say softly. "How'd you like to pay another visit to our dear Overwatch?"
THE END
