Overwatch H.Q.
The Day of the Promotion.
November 15.

"You'd think I'd done walked into a wedding…or a funeral." Jesse McCree told Morrison, signaling his displeasure of the dress code as he tugged at the tie around his neck like a hangman would.
Jack nodded to him quietly. It was supposed to be a good day for all of them.
They were supposed to have drinks and to celebrate themselves as a team, and cheers to the future of Overwatch.
But that's not how it went.
Reyes had been distant towards him, hostile even. The vulnerability from that Halloween night was gone completely the moment Jack got that promotion to Commander.
Even now, both of them standing in their United States Marine Corps Dress Blues, Reyes would hardly look at him.
"Can't believe these things still fit!" Morrison joked as he approached his friend.
"Yeah, you're tellin' me." Reyes sighed, his mouth attempting a smile but his eyes were still brooding under his heavy brow.
"My friends!" Reinhardt came in from behind them, embracing Jesse, Jack, and Gabriel into a uncomfortably strong hug.
"Congratulations, Jack! I'm proud to be serving under you." Reinhardt was always a laugh. A hulking behemoth of a man, his beard and hair trimmed and combed- a far cry from their usual state.
Jack loved Wilhelm ever since he met him- he'd known what he had to go through, fighting through Germany. The horrors he'd seen and the men he'd lost, but Rein never let it show. Not to Jack anyway.

The hall they had danced in just weeks ago was filled with regal chairs, mighty bannisters hanging from the wall, and the stage had been polished and primped so much it hardly even looked the same.
They group stood in the back, wallflowers at their own ceremony as the bureaucrats and leaders patted each other on the back for their good press from the Egypt mission.
"Where is Ana and Zeigler? We must have the gang together, I have a special toast planned," Rein was growing anxious, more than any of them. His big heart was almost too worried about the others sometimes.
Not to say Jack never worried. He did, oh he did. But he learned every soldier needed their space.
Eyes locked dead ahead, he felt his fingers began to shake. Even through all his decorated ceremonies in the Marines and being inducted into Overwatch he had Reyes by his side; but today it felt like they weren't even in the same room together.
Ana entered from behind them, Zeigler on her heels with Lena and Torb.
Jack could feel Angela getting closer to him, her hands touched at his arm.
"Good luck up there," She leaned in to whisper to him, "just remember to smile."
Jack grunted.
"You have to smile now, Jack. You're the face of Overwatch whether you want to be or not."
Morrison turned to look at her- in heels she was still just below his nose, and her big eyes were bright staring up at his.
"I think Reyes is the one you should be giving the encouraging pep talk to, Dr. Zeigler."
"You never call me 'Doctor'." She sounded offended, and in truth Jack didn't know why he had called her that either.
You only call me Dr. Zeigler when you're mad about something Jack, what is it? She used to ask him when they first met. Before he really got to know Ana.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ana making small talk with Rein. As beautiful as ever.

Angela left his side, and Jack made his way to Ana, giving her an unsure smile which she reciprocated.
"Get ready, Commander." She emphasized the last word with a touch of flirtation, giving him a half-assed salute.
Behind him, Torb was ready for the after party.
"Where is the celebrations for later, ah? Where's the spirits? I've been making some er, modifications to one of my babies. Think of it: a turret that fires pure, hearty vodka!"
"Now hold on there, those things never miss but what's the odds I take some o' that right to the eye? My lucky eye?" Jesse asked, intrigued.
"None for me now, love. I'll stick with a good pint," Lena declined with a laugh.
"Attention-"
Ahead of them, at the front of the room, the woman Jack had met as General Adawe began to speak. Like clockwork, the audience began to seat themselves with the press upfront to catch the glory shots.
Bulbs began to flash like a lightning storm already.
"We're here today to honor the heroes of Overwatch. One in particular yes, but without his team none of this would have been possible."
Jack held his hand to his side and motioned for them to fall behind him as they made their way up the middle aisle in the sea of uniforms.
In the audience he could see Winston comically taking up two seats with a black tie hanging around the light grey fur of his neck with a white suit to cover his body. Next to him was Mei-ling giving a wide-eyed gaze at the heroes.
My peers. Any one of them would be fit to lead. Any one of them could take this and not feel guilty for it.
"Today, as U.N. Secretary Under General, I am awarding United States Marine Corps' Jack Elias Morrison with the honor of Strike Commander for Overwatch,"

The applause began. Morrison and the team were on stage, blinded by the cameras and the thunderous claps from the men and women who had no idea what his team even did.
What they carried into battle.
Adawe made her way to Jack, and placed a golden star at his breast. She stood several feet below him, and older woman but with hard eyes that seemed to reflect what Morrison was feeling.
"Now dance for them." She whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
Jack looked to Zeigler, to Ana. Angela flashed a smile, and Ana gave a more genuine one.
Reyes stared dead ahead while Reinhardt beamed in delight. Jesse tugged at his collar before Lena swatted his arm down which earned a bout of laughter from those who saw.
Morrison was at the stand now, and leaned in to the microphone.
The crowd grew silent.
"First of all, I would like to say thank you to the United Nations who helped bring myself and the hundreds of other like-minded men and women to come into Overwatch as a way to help his or her respective nations. Not to fight for a chance of glory, but to stand as a symbol of peace. I'm just here as a boy who grew up in the corn-fields of northern Illinois, and you thought it would be a good idea to give me a gun, a team, and a commendation for that," Jack paused as the audience returned canned laughter to him.
He didn't like the speaking, but he knew how to play it. To dance.
"We wouldn't have made it. We…we wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for each other. No one here, not in the several hundred, is useless. Everyone plays a role, and everyone is part of a team. I ask for those here from the press, and I ask of you world leaders…do not mention me in your stories and your examples of valor. If I'm listed or photographed…mention my family."
Morrison bowed aside and raised his arms to those that shared the stage with him.
The room erupted into a standing ovation.