Widow gently turns over in her sleep. It means that she must be having a good dream. It means that I am still winning.

I must be breaking Talon's conditioning; I can actually feel happiness, or something close to it. Non, it makes sense. I am taking away her hatred and turning it to love, taking her drive to kill and replacing it with my passion.

I could not help myself; I had to know what Widow was dreaming about. Normally, I could not peak into her mind; she only dreamed of death.

But this time, there was no death.


The wind is blowing, not just a simple gust but a near gale. It is blowing so hard, the clouds are flying passed us. They go from one end of the horizon to the other in a matter of minutes, but there is not a smell of rain. If anything, it is drier than normal. Dry, warm, and windy. It is so windy, we can even see the Eiffel Tower gently sway.

I am screaming, not from fear or shock, but a laughing scream. Lena has her hands wrapped around mine, and we are both practically being pulled across the green fields of the Champ de Mars.

We are both holding on for dear life to the kite that Lena brought. It is a large kite, nearly a meter across. It is made from some tough, heavy kind of plastic, and it is holding its shape in the wind. Because it is not bending or breaking, it is catching the wind, and threatening to pull us into the sky with it.

"Lena, please, let go," I shout. It is hard to scream and laugh at the same time, but somehow I find way to do it.

"Can't let go, love! It's gettin' to the good part!"

"What good part?"

"The part where we nearly fly away!"

"You are mad!"

Lena pushes my hands down, urging the kite higher into the sky. The kite soars, and the twine in my hand finally runs out. The spool threatens to tear itself away, but Lena and I hold onto it. The kite finally peaks, and our weight is able to keep us on the ground. The kite is in the sky, and appears perfectly still against the rapidly moving clouds.

"See? Flying perfectly well there," Lena laughs.

"You damn Brit, you planned this, did you?"

"Got me there, love. Still can't believe you never flew a kite before. What kind of childhood did you have?"

"According to you? The worst."

Lena's arms are wrapped around me. I ca not let go of the spool, or the kite, but I nestle myself against her.


I…I don't remember that.

Lena and I never flew a kite. But Widow was remembering it. How could she know that when I never did that?

Where did she get that memory?

Non, she must have gotten it from me; it could not have simply appeared out of thin air. But if I could not remember giving her that memory, what did that mean?

It meant that Talon was still erasing me. It still meant that my mind was no longer becoming my own. I was being driven out.

For a moment, I panicked. Then I remembered: I was already a dead woman.

Talon took my body, took my mind, and was steadily driving me out of my own head. I already knew that my memories were being erased, it was only a matter of time until I vanished.

The memories…I was not just reliving them, I was giving them to Widow. That is what made her spare Lena's life; it was my memories, and the love they carried.

If that is what it took to stop Widow, I would give her everything I had left.


Lena was running. Widow was watching her.

Talon was attacking Overwatch, but I could not remember for what. Something about Reaper wanting to go after Morrison. Reaper seemed obsessed with him.

Lena was laughing and jumping, popping into and out of places in a blue blur.

"Almost had me there, love!" She laughed.

She had such a pretty laugh. It sounded familiar, like I have heard it somewhere else.

"Stand still, ma chérie," Widow chuckled. She was shooting, but I had the feeling that she was missing on purpose. Like this was a game, a dance that both of them wanted, and never wanted to end.

Something about this seemed familiar, like they have done it before. But I could not put my finger on it.

Another memory floated to my mind. Something told me I had to give it to Widow, so I did.


Lena stood in the strange chamber. She tried to put a strange metal contraption on her chest, but when she was about to finish, she would mysteriously fade, and the contraption would fall to the ground.

"Get back here, Lena," Winston grumbled, making adjustments at a computer.

"Please, you must get her back," I begged.

"I'm working as best I can, Amélie. Please, be patient," Winston said. "We know where she will be, I'm just working on the when she'll be."

Finally, she popped back into existence, and she was able to put the strange device on.

"Got it!" She yelled.

Winston pressed a button, and a blue light popped on, hovering at her sternum.

"How do you feel?"

"Had a touch of vertigo there, but things got better," she said. "Whoa. My ears popped. Does that count?"

"Just some adjustments," Winston said.

I stood, wringing my hands. Lena stood there, waiting for something to happen. The minutes ticked by, but nothing happened.

"I think we have something," Winston said.

She sat down, looking at me with those big, beautiful eyes of hers.

"I'm still here, love," she smiled. "Can't get rid of me that easily."


The memory skipped about, and ended abruptly. Parts of it were missing. I tried to remember more, tried to give more feeling to Widow, but she did not need it.

I could feel the love in her chest, the joy she felt at that memory. And, of course, the recoil of her gun.

"Come on, gotta try harder than that," Lena said.

She was moving so fast, she did not see the venom mine that Widow left for her. It exploded in a green cloud, and Lena doubled over, coughing and sputtering. She was helpless.

"Right back at you, ma chérie," Widow laughed.

Her radio squawked.

Units, fall back. Mission is complete, withdraw immediately.

"Ah. Time to go." She looked over at Lena, who was sprawled out on the ground. She blew her a kiss. "Until next time."


Another strange day, another strange fight. Time seemed to move in fits and starts, like I was forgetting entire days or weeks.

Talon did not start the fight, Overwatch did. They were…oh, I knew what they wanted, but I just could not place it. It was on the tip of my tongue. Or was it my tongue? It never seemed to move when I wanted it to.

That strange, lovely brown-haired woman was teleporting everywhere. How did she do that? A pop, a blur, a laugh, and she was somewhere else.

I tried to follow her, track her movements…non, I could not move my arms. Someone was moving them for me. How was this strange, blue-skinned woman doing that?

The scene seemed to blur, like it was segments of a larger thing, but it was like I was sleeping through parts of it. How could I sleep through gunshots?

Whoever was controlling my body must be doing a good job. Bullets were flying, but none seemed to hit me. Then again, none of my bullets seemed to hit the strange woman.

I was glad of that. She was so pretty.

I, or whoever was controlling me, kicked down the door to a hotel. The strange woman was hot on our heels.

"Comin' to get you, love!"

That made me smile. I dropped a strange little device on the ground and jumped into a room. Shots rang out, and I saw the little thing (was it a mine? The word seemed to float into my mind, but I could not figure out what it was) get blown to pieces. The beautiful brown-haired woman jumped into the room. The trap was sprung; the blue-skinned woman that controlled me jumped out, slamming into the brown-haired beauty, pinning her against the wall.

The pretty brown-haired woman was breathing deep. So was I. This fight, it was exhausting, but my heart was slamming in my chest. We were inches apart; I could feel her hot breath, smell her sweat, I could even feel the heat radiating from her. One of my hands held her wrists together, pinning them in place above her head.

"Got you," I heard myself say. A tight smile was on my lips. I do not remember smiling.

"Well, you finally did," the woman said. Her eyes were wide, as large as…as large as…what were they the size of? "Dead to rights."

I realized that my gun was pushed against her stomach.

Please, do not kill her, I like her.

"Now you finally know who is better," I could hear myself say.

"Then why ain't you finishing this?" The pretty woman asked. "You could've killed me a dozen times over. So why not now?"

I could feel myself smiling.

"Do you not know? You keep your friends close…"

We were so close, but it caught me by surprise when the woman, when I, leaned forward to kiss her.

Our lips locked; hers were so full, so delicious…when I broke the kiss, I only wanted more.

"…and your enemies guessing."

Footsteps rang out in the hallway.

"Tracer, sound off," an old man barked. "Tracer!"

"Hmm. Until next time, ma chérie," the strange woman who controlled my body said. We left the pretty woman, too stunned to move. I could feel my rifle be brought to bear. It shot out a window, and we leapt out, a grappling hook catching the building next to us.

As we swung away, I could see people moving into the room.

I would meet that woman again. I had to.


Morrison laid down suppressive fire from the window while Fareeha ran in.

"Lena! Are you alright?" Fareeha said.

"Y-yea, just shaken, that's all," Lena stammered.

"You're all red; burning up," Fareeha said. "Need Angela to take a look at you?"

"Na, I'll be fine in a sec."

"It's a good thing we got here in time," Morrison said, slapping a fresh magazine into his rifle. "Any slower, you might've had a bad day."

"Damn shame," Lena said. "Almost got her that time…"