Hey, so it's been quite a while since I've published anything. I'm terribly sorry, so you can tell I was working on this before and it took me way too long to finish it. I'll try to get back into it, just life took me by surprise really.
It was dark when Dakota came back, she looked exhausted and desperately wanted to seek her bed. She didn't bother to check on Lena, who seemed to be sound asleep. These nights of hers were soon to be the death of her, there was so much she had to do in so little time. But she couldn't rest just yet. Shrugging off her thick coat, she took a look at the deserted cafe, the Halloween decorations that hung so proudly on the walls, the ceiling, everywhere looked ominous in the dark. Those red eyes followed her as she walked past the cafe, her coat was resting in her left arm as she made her way up the stairs. She went into her 'man cave' and settled her coat down on the couch against the wall, then she went to the table beside it and started to make herself a fresh batch of coffee. She checked the time, "1:49" she read aloud, sighing as she plopped a heavy mug down on the surface. Her eyes went to her table full of scraps and projects she had to work on. She pulled up a chair before the table, resting her behind on the wood surface. She gently lifted her current project, a small orb that resembled an eyeball. An artificial eye, but one she had made from scratch. The price to pay for her old friend, and as she would jokingly say, "An eye for an eye" which she found ironic. But the same could be said for her. Dakota shook her head, driving her thoughts back to the project. Dakota reached for the pair of reading glasses that were nestled in a pile of scrap metal, then slid them on her nose, seeing the images much closer. Despite how much she knew, Dakota hated admitting to old age. Her body was slowly breaking down, she could tell, but she didn't want to admit it. Her ignorant pride was swelling, causing her to work faster and rush herself. But as she was typing up the programming to make the prosthetic to work as told, she felt her hands freeze up, immobile for a second. Her blood went cold, she panicked while trying to move her fingers just even slightly. But she stopped, took a slow breath before she felt movement in her hands again. This curse was going to be the end of her.
Lena sat atop the roof, a bottle of fine aged Brandy sat next to her. It was getting colder now, the nights were freezing and the day would be somewhat warm, not really though. She was huddled up in a thick jacket, her hood up and she peered down at the city. The lights were the only thing that illuminated the darkened city. No one was outside, hardly and cars drove by, it was only her and the chilled bottle of Brandy. She exhaled slowly, the cold wind making a breath of air around her. She huddled a little closer, pulling out a scarf and hastily wrapping the fabric around her neck. Her fingers twitched from the cold, but she made no motion to warm them as she grabbed the bottle of Brandy and brought the glass to her lips. Hungrily, she gulped the drink, not savoring the taste. She plucked the glass bottle from her lips, her tongue was licking up the small specks of what was left behind.
"Bloody hell it's cold"
She whined as she took another drink. There was a soft breeze that left goosebumps running up and down her small body. She shivered, trying to huddle up even more to keep warm but there was no way with her metal arm, always freezing and then getting stuck because of the cold. Everytime she would ask Dakota to make some changes to it, she always refused. For some reason Dakota found it unnecessary to make such changes. She already knew from the start she wasn't supposed to have survived. That whole incident, the surprise attack that devastated the whole world and Overwatch. The incident that declared Lena Oxton dead. Not even MIA, but declared her dead without thinking of any other solution to her disappearance. Dakota always told her thousands of times that it was a miracle. But what good use is a miracle when all they do is drink and go through the day drunk? She scoffed.
"Some miracle.."
She huffed out as she took another drink. She remembered the events following after the explosion, how her nimble body went flying towards the nearest wall, even with the protection of her fuzzy friend she still took quite the punch. She shuddered at the memory, before downing half the bottle. All she wanted to do was to forget the everything, the pain, the suffering, living with this guilt. No, not guilt. She just hated the choice everyone made for her. Did she want to be saved back then? Was it worth it? She peered down to her chest, where the soft hum of what was left of her chronal accelerator that was implanted into her body. She only saw a chain that kept her in this timeline. She was stuck living with this reality. The whole world thought she was dead, never to come back. But how many people are thought to be dead when they're still kicking but in the shadows? She thought of her commander, Jack. He was supposed to have died back in that explosion with Reyes, but he didn't. He lived and made a different name for himself. So many people who once were a part of overwatch in some way. She glanced back at her half drunken bottle.
"Everyone's making themselves into something great, living life how they please, but what is Lena doing? Drinking her problems away."
She muttered as she picked up the bottle. She smiled.
"Bloody good brandy though. Dakota sure knows how to get the good stuff."
She chugged down the rest, already drunk off her ass and just mumbling nonsense to herself now. She was so out of it, she didn't notice the pair of golden eyes that had been watching her for the past 30 min. Peering through her enhanced scope, the cross-hairs directly on the half-burnt face. She couldn't hear a word the drunk girl was saying, but something kept making her come back to King's row, specifically to her. Something about the way she looked, the way she walked, that smile on her face as she started to sing into the bottle, it was something she was drawn to. Her finger itched to pull the trigger, but she resisted her incurable infatuation to. She watched silently, noticing she was standing on the edge of the rooftop, her feet were firmly planted on the rim, she held the bottle over the edge, letting it go as it went tumbling down to meet the hard concrete below. She couldn't tear her eyes away, all of her trained senses were yelling at her, something inside triggered her to react. She didn't have any control as she felt her body move on it's own, a familiar yet strange voice was yelling at her.
"SAVE HER!"
That small drunk girl leaned a little too far over the edge, but she didn't try to save herself. She opened her arms wide as she started to fall, closing her eyes in that moment. Within seconds the owner of those golden eyes found herself running towards the falling girl, extending her arm and projecting her grappling hook on a building nearby. She rushed in and grabbed the falling girl with her free hand, swinging around and landing back on top of the rooftop. She dropped the girl, who landed face down on the roof. She didn't know what just happened, why she had saved someone who she didn't know from falling off a two story building. It's not like she would have died anyways. She looked down on the drunk girl, noticing that she was sitting up and was staring off into the distance.
"Do you know what it feels like to be forgotten?"
She asked her savior, who only looked at her with a blank face. She saw that drunken smile again.
"Or rather, to be dead?"
Those brown eyes of her held sorrow, even though she had a smile on her face, her eyes told a different story. She was interested for a small moment, a small moment before she looked away from the drunk girl.
"Why should I listen to the words of the dead?"
She coldly asked, not bothering to look in the direction of the drunkard. She heard a chuckle then a sigh.
"Awe rubbish! I'm out of my drink!"
She rolled her eyes, walking away from the drunk. Why did she even bother to save her?
"Death isn't to claim her just yet."
That voice irritated her yet again, causing her to 'tsk' and look back to the young girl.
"Look at her, she's escaped death with those injuries."
Her eyes narrowed, looking down at Lena as she walked towards her.
"Who are you?"
She asked her, only to see the drunk shrug.
"Me? I'm no one."
Lena told her, while looking off into the distance.
"I'm supposed to be dead after all."
When Lena woke up, Dakota was already downstairs setting up shop. Lena shuddered at the chill that crept its way into her bed. She pulled the covers closer to her body, trying to huddle for what small warmth she had. But after hearing a knock on the door she had to leave her warm bed.
"Oxford, out of bed. Shop opens up in 20, get ready."
Then the footsteps faded away as Lena grumbled and waddled her way to the shower. Her headache was going to be the death of her. Today was a slow day, barely any customers were coming in, it probably had something to do with the weather. It was snowing out and hardly anyone wanted to venture out in that cold. Sure there were kids running around throwing snowballs and trying to build snowmans, but even so no one came in. Dakota was nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee, she looked dead tired but even still she opened the cafe. Even though she could close it and live a comfortable life without working for the rest of her years. But she did anyways, sitting on her stool on the other side of the bar. And for Lena? She was groaning and laying facedown on the floor, mumbling about a 'bloody hangover' to herself. Dakota took a glance at her, softly smirking as she stood up, leaving her mug on the countertop before slowly kneeling down to the hungover girl. She leaned close, softly whispering in her good ear.
"Psst, how much did you drink last night?"
She only got a groan in reply before Dakota looked at her liquor cabinet, finding one of her prized bottles gone.
"Don't tell me you drank my fine aged Brandy?"
She whispered, and in return got an even more exaggerated groan. Dakota huffed before smiling. She reached into her chest pocket, pulling out a silver whistle.
"Groan one more time, come on I dare you."
She taunted, holding the whistle to her lips. Not surprising Lena groaned yet again, this time she even managed to squeeze in a few words.
"What you gonna d-"
Poor ol' Lena didn't get the chance to finish her question before a loud blow of a whistle was pounding into her hangover. She groaned before putting both hands over her ears, curling up and rolling to her other side. Which was a bad mistake. She gagged, quickly placing both hands over her mouth as she struggled to stand up. Dakota just fell back, laughing as she hugged her stomach and rolled side to side.
"Oh man Oxford you're priceless."
She gasped out, a smile was proudly shown on her usually scowling face. She looked at Lena, who finally found her footing and managed to run towards the employee restrooms. But the sound of heavy footsteps made her laughter die down slowly.
"I don't think it's a good idea to mess with her so early in the morning."
She sneered.
"How would you feel if some young one drank your imported Brandy that was aged in a charred oak barrel for over 40 years? I'd have to get something out of my money's worth."
He only nodded before heading back to his station, re-cleaning his set of utensils and his favorite pan.
"Oh, and Eden?"
He placed his pan down.
"Yea boss?"
"Why don't you take the day off, come in tomorrow. If I need any help I'll call you. But I doubt anyone will come in today."
He smiled.
"You sure?"
Dakota nodded before making her way to the kitchen.
"You're not the only chef here. I'm just too old to handle more than three orders at once. Go on now, before i change my mind and make you clean up Lena's mess."
She taunted, making the young man shake his head in response.
"See you tomorrow boss!"
He called out as he was making his way to the door. Dakota waved in response as he left, sighing as she went to the restrooms.
"Ey kid you alive?"
She asked as she opened the door, the sound of gagging and hurling was all that she got in reply. She walked a little further down the restroom to find the young one on her knees, hands gripping the edges of the toilet, her face buried into the porcelain bowl. Dakota sighed as she knelt beside the girl, softly hitting her back.
"Just let it out, don't let your head fall into the bowl!"
Dakota yelled out as she quickly managed to stop Lena from face-planting into the porcelain.
"Maybe I should just close up shop."
She muttered to herself as she rolled up some tissue paper in one hand and wiped Lena's mouth clean.
"Come on, up you go."
She ushered softly as Dakota lifted Lena up and helped her steady her feet.
"Come on, let's go upstairs to lay down for a little while okay?"
Lena could only nod as she leaned into Dakota, her body weak from puking. Dakota led her out of the stalls, out of the restrooms, up the stairs until finally they made it to Lena's room. She gently let the young girl down, guiding her to lay on her side and unknowingly guided her to lay in recovery position. The poor girl was fast asleep, but Dakota didn't want to just leave her without anything. So she quickly ran back downstairs, found one of the spare mop buckets, opened up a plastic bag and placed it inside before running back up the stairs and placing it beside the bed.
"I'm too old to be running up and down stairs."
She told herself as she walked down the stairs, trying not to gasp out as she struggled to regain her breath. The bell rang, and just before she could say anything to announce the cafe was closed, she noticed something strange about the two visitors. Clearly they didn't come together, but they arrived one after the other. One she recognized instantly, but the other seemed to have interested her. She forced a gentle smile.
"Hello ladies, please sit, let me get something started for you. What would you two like to drink?"
She asked as she made her way to the countertop, waiting for the two to sit. She almost wanted to roll her eyes at how there was one seat empty between them, but it was bad for reputation. She pulled out two menus, handing it to both of them.
"Please take your time, it doesn't look like the snow will lighten up anytime soon."
Lena was laying on her side, her head was resting on her left arm and her left leg was bent to keep her from rolling off the bed. Her nausea was slowly going away, but the searing headache she had was preventing her from falling asleep.
"dumb.. Dakot..a.."
She muttered under her breath as she forced her eyes shut, trying to take slow breaths. She groaned lightly as she shuffled lightly, her right hand was struggling to unbutton her collar and to undo her sloppily made bowtie. But before she was able to even get one done, she felt a cool pair of hands slowly make their way under her fumbling fingers and with a quick motion loosen her tie and unbutton the top two buttons on her shirt. Then those cool hands found their way to resting on her forehead, hearing a soft 'tsk tsk'.
"Oh mon cherie, it seems like last night was too much for you."
It was a soft whisper, almost as if it held another meaning behind those sharp words. But Lena didn't notice, she instinctively leaned into the cool touch of her unknown visitor, desperate for relief from her horrible fever. But it didn't last long, the lingering sensation of those cool hands was slowly etching their way into her skin. Lena let out a soft groan as those hands lifted themselves from her forehead, almost making her whimper. She could almost feel the smirk that found it's way on her visitor's lips.
"Adieu, cherie"
That phrase echoed around her for a small moment, trying to understand what just happened before Lena recognized that saying. She shot up from her resting position, her eyes opened and searching for the owner of those words. But she only saw Dakota sitting in a chair, her eyes were focused on the sketch pad she was currently drawing on.
"You're awake, you were out for the rest of the day."
She said calmly, looking up for a brief moment before closing her sketch pad.
"I closed up shop after our last two customers, they were nice girls, just trying to stay out of the cold and they came here. One of them said something interesting though, of how she never comes to this part of town anymore but today she had a feeling to come to this specific cafe. Seems she heard rumors. Didn't tell me what kind of rumors she heard, but something about a familiar looking waitress working here."
She stood up and tilted Lena's head to the side lightly, gently opening her collar and noticed a soft smear of purple lipstick on her collar bone. Lena swatted her hand away, readjusting her unbutton collar.
"What are you talking about?"
Lena huffed as she tried to get up but Dakota placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I think we should close up shop for a while, go on a vacation. What do you think?"
Dakota suddenly changed the subject, staring down at poor Lena.
"A vacation? What are you blabbering about? A vacation at this time?"
Dakota chose to ignore her questions.
"Be sure to pack up tonight, we're leaving tomorrow morning."
Before Lena could ask anything Dakota left the room, closing the door behind her. A vacation? At this time? Leaving tomorrow morning? Nothing she said had made any sense! Something must have went down, Lena was thinking of that weird conversation Dakota had. Something about the two customers, and one talking about rumors. She didn't understand anything that just happened. She thought back to her collar, what Dakota was looking at. She rushed to the bathroom, checking her neck in the mirror. She saw the smears of purple on her collarbone, that dream she had, about the unknown stranger visiting her, it wasn't a dream was it?
I kinda rushed this, originally this wasn't the way I wanted to go with the story line but it was the only thing I could write through my horrible horrible writers block. So we'll see where this takes us and hopefully I can get another chapter out before the end of this month.