Chapter 12: Battery
Tracer paced back and forth as Lúcio woke the doctor up. Angela put her hand to her head and groaned, slowly uncoiling herself from the tight ball she had fallen asleep in.
"Heya, Doctor Ziegler. I'm uh- sorry to wake you up, but you wouldn't mind busting me out of here, would you?" Lúcio bounced up and down as he waited for a response, almost mimicking Tracer's antsy pacing.
"I- ugh… my head. What's going on? Where are we?" Angela moaned, planting her hands on the ground as she forced herself into the sitting position. She stared around the room, and at Tracer, slowly trying to process what was going on. This would not work for Tracer.
"Doctor, come on! We gotta go! I had to blink you to this room! I'm sorry if you aren't feeling the best after all that, but we don't have time! Let's go!"
"That would explain why I feel so sick…"
"Come on! Hurry up!" tracer snapped, grabbing the doctor's arm and yanking her upward. She stumbled against the wall, using it for support. "I only have an hour! One hour! So, hurry up!" Tracer nearly shouted, already unclasping her harness and dumping it into Lúcio's arms. He set his hand gently on her shoulder.
"Hey, don't worry. We'll be getting there in time. I don't plan on letting anything happen just because you came to save me."
Tracer shook her head, running to the back of the door. "Just hurry up. We have to get your gear and go!"
"Lena, please. Calm yourself you cannot let yourself stress over this-"
"Stress?! You want me to not stress? Well how about you get lost in time, then decide if the idea stresses you! Now press the button!"
Lúcio and Angela had exchanged a glance before the pounding in Lena's head faded, dragging the rest of her senses with her. She mentally sighed and phased through the wall thoughtlessly. Then she realised there were small, white orbs attached to the doorframe outside. Oh, crap.
Tracer felt herself snap back into reality, the headache returning at full force. Tracer made her move to unclasp the door locks. The orbs seemed to rotate, blue centers staring right at her.
Then they started burning her. Nine beams from all directions closed down on her as soon as she unclasped the door. They tore into her flesh, simultaneously freezing and scorching. She doubled over, breathing fast as she flipped out a pistol, struggling to keep hold as she fell onto her shoulder. She pulled the trigger and haphazardly shot the gun in all directions. She heard the sounds of creaking metal as the beam turrets dropped to the ground as the burning faded, a sharp, incessant pain remaining.
"What the heck happened?" Lúcio barreled through the door with her harness in his arms.
"Oh, dear… Lena!" Dr Ziegler pulled out her Caduceus staff, engaging the healing stream as the bots quickly worked to heal what they could while Tracer lied on the ground, breathing heavy.
She wheezed. "Those were beam turrets… ugh… Headache… Everything hurts." Tracer shook her head, huffing as the pain eased and the blood stopped flowing through the burns. The headache was still there, though.
"Lena, you still have a headache?"
"Look, I kinda have an everything ache right now. But I don't care about that. We just need to hurry and get Lúcio's stuff. You wouldn't happen to know where they might be keeping his stuff?" Tracer pushed herself against the door and used it to push herself onto her feet, quickly regaining her footing. She already began walking away when Dr. Ziegler put her hand on Tracer's shoulder, stopping her. Tracer hissed as a fresh wave of pain surged through her burnt skin.
"Lena, I am concerned about your health. You have had this headache for longer than natural, and you have not been acting like yourself as of late."
"Just hush up! I don't have time for your psychoanalysis! My harness is almost dead, so let's get Lúcio out of here already!"
"I have time to worry about your health!"
"Well, I don't! Look, you wanna worry about my health? Well, I just got smothered by those beam turret things and I'm about to have to take a trip through time and space, so how about worrying about that, first?" Tracer turned to Lúcio, who had been hanging back during the spat. "Can you walk okay?" she asked, considerably gentler.
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine! My back has been killing me, but it's nothing that'll stop me from kicking! Let's just get my skates and soundpack back!" he seemed to totally let go of the earlier argument. It was then Tracer noticed he had been walking with his back unusually stiff.
Dr. Ziegler nodded numbly, putting on her business face. "The gear should be this way. Follow me. Tracer, watch our backs, please." She began a speedy jog down the right corridor. Lúcio followed, and it wasn't until he had passed Tracer that she noticed the back of his shirt was coated in dried, crimson blood. Huh. Guess he didn't get through a few meetings with Vishkar as smoothly as she first thought.
…
Sombra lazily leaned against the wall in the back corner of her cell. After a quick scan, she was able to find that there were no cameras in her room due to them knowing it'd be useless if she wanted to disable them. Fareeha Amari had been allowed to watch guard, much to Sombra's surprise. The captain must have been able to convince everyone that she wasn't brainwashed or anything of the sort. That was good.
Fareeha, clad in a red sweater and kakis, watched her suspiciously as she pressed the coloured buttons on her HoloVid projectors. Each time she pressed the little squares, a distinct note played back to her. There were five rows of buttons, all different colors, varying in instruments as well.
"What is that you are doing?" the security guard glared as Sombra continued with her toy.
"Oh, nothing. It's just a little music software. Purely for entertainment purposes."
Fareeha just sat back in her foldable chair and watched.
Thankfully, the buttons were in QWERTY. It was easy to type a message on them. She pressed the notes as the sequence appeared in front of her. It was somewhat annoying to have to substitute letters for shapes and colors in her mind, but it was nothing she could not do. Sombra let the sequence repeat back to herself as she reread her message.
Hey, Gabe. Things are going swimmingly here. I'm all locked up, and the target went on a mission.
The song sequence sounded odd and unnatural, but was rhythmic enough for Fareeha to be fooled into thinking she was just playing a rhythm game. Sombra stood up and stretched, hopping into the bed on her stomach, with her HoloVid still projecting the music game. There was a slight blip in the bottom of her screen telling her Reaper had responded. The micro earpiece, borderline invisible, buzzed as his gruff voice croaked unnaturally.
"Did you activate the device?"
Sombra rolled her eyes and typed a new musical sequence. That translated into letters on Gabe's end. Ugh. Of course, I did. She doesn't suspect a thing, and she's definitely been feeling the effects. She still thinks it's just a headache. Her teammates are beginning to take notice though, which might be even more fortunate for us.
There was a pause as the message sent to him as the music played in the room.
"How long until we can proceed with the plan?" he sounded impatient and almost eager.
Relájate.Based off the videos I managed to watch when nobody was looking; I'd say she has a few days until the "snap." Patent pending.
"Are you prepared to transport back here when ready?" he recited, despite knowing full well Sombra was prepared.
As long as you haven't messed with my stuff. Just make sure everything is prepared on your end. I don't feel like sitting in prison a second time to get what you need.
"There will be no escape once things are in my hands," Sombra would've shivered if she was on the receiving end of that threat. He sounded all-too-excited for what would occur, not that it was of any consequence to her.
Fareeha Amari snorted from her seat. "You know, you have a terrible taste in music."
Sombra laughed. "So I've been told. So, Amari, how have things been with your mother?"
The guard watched her suspiciously. "What's it to you?"
"Just trying to make small talk. There really isn't a ton to do beyond stupid music games." Sombra spun her hand, shutting off the message HoloVid.
"We are doing fine," she answered curtly, afraid Sombra would have some way to twist her words.
"And what of poor Jesse and Genji? Unfortunately, I had to use a few toys of mine to avoid dying in that fight. Basic self-defense. It's such a pity they were harmed like they were." Sombra shook her head in mock sadness.
"They are healing. You have done far from cripple them, if that was your goal," Fareeha spat, her voice full of venom.
"Oh, I forgot it might be a sore spot for you, given they were so close to you in your youth," she prodded, smirking as Fareeha's fiery glare attempted to melt her where she stood.
"Do you enjoy this?" her voice was cold and calm. Sombra quirked her head curiously.
"Enjoy what?" she asked innocently.
"Do you enjoy using words to hurt others? To twist situations with the sole purpose of harm?"
Sombra hummed, semi-pensively. "Why wouldn't I? I get the best of reactions out of people. They get angry, and that makes them easy to control."
"Is it worth it, though? To harm the minds of people solely for your own gain?" she pressed, watching Sombra with her hands folded in her lap.
"So far? Yeah, I'd say it is. Emotions are temporary. People can figure it out," Sombra declared, fiddling with the wires on her nails.
"And what happens when you encounter someone who cannot recover thanks to you?" Amari asked rhetorically, leaning towards her prisoner.
"If I encounter someone who cannot get over a few emotional issues or hurt feelings, then it's not my fault if they're weak," Sombra mused casually, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.
Fareeha shook her head sadly. "That is far from true. Those that hold hurt, caged deep within them, are often the strongest of us all. Do you feel joy from watching it consume them whole?"
Sombra chuckled, bouncing her leg in boredom. "It is kind of funny, yeah."
"And what if it was someone close to you?"
"I suppose that's the key, isn't it? I have nobody close to me, amiga."
…
"YOU VISHKAR SCUM! SHOW YOURSELVES, YOU COWARDS!" Reinhardt bellowed from their stairway, a small army of civilians behind him. "WHERE ARE YOU KEEPING OUR COMRADES?"
It had been roughly three hours since Tracer and Mercy had gone to find Lúcio, and their absence was beginning to worry the twosome. Torbjörn was fiddling with a tablet in a far more passive manner from a rooftop.
The crowd roared with him.
"Release Lúcio!"
"Leave Numbani!"
"You're not wanted here!"
News cars had begun flocking the area, never daring to get close enough to the mob. Any law enforcement that had come was unsure of where to point their guns. Any attempt to shoot the civilians did nothing but elicit rage from the massive crusader.
Medical workers had been scurrying around the mob, picking up the wounded and dead and carrying them to ambulances. The local OR15 units had established barriers around the civilians as well. All Vishkar employees had disappeared into their workplace, with a thin line of terrified police being all that kept the crowd at bay.
The only thing that kept Reinhardt from charging right through the doors was the fact that this mission could determine how hard it would be for the Petras Act to be recanted.
Any attempts Vishkar had made to attack the citizens had been quickly stopped with the threat of the crusader's massive hammer. Now it was a matter of buying time and hoping their comrades made it out safely.
"Hey! Everyone!" a new voice cried from several floors up on the building. Cheers erupted as the horde saw it was Lúcio, in the flesh. He was wearing bright green roller blades, had some sort of metallic device on his back, and his signature sound gun that was acting like a megaphone.
"I am perfectly safe, thanks to Overwatch here!"Cheers again, along with sounds of general confusion. "Don't ever let this horrible company take away your freedom! Always keep fighting! When I come here on tour, I expect to see everyone free to live as they choose!" The roar of the crowd was louder than the thunder as Lúcio held his fist up triumphantly from the broken windowsill.
Reinhardt noticed a bright blue blur rush bound past Lúcio, flipping across the rooftops in a beeline for the dropship. It must've been Tracer. Hopefully, she was not harmed. Reinhardt knew she'd be okay though. She was a tough soldier.
"Now, I'll keep in touch! See you later, Numbani!"he cried in excitement, launching himself from the building, holding onto the walls with his skates and glove as he used his momentum to launch himself from building to building as the crowd cheered. Mercy followed behind him, her face gentle and passive as she avoided watching the crowd. Now was a good a time as any, Reinhardt decided.
He stepped atop the stairs, quickly brushing the police aside as the crowd miraculously quieted. "Vishkar! Never harm these civilians again! If I catch wind of this happening anywhere else, ever again, there will be no forgiveness! You have ended lives today, and for what? You've gained nothing! Detaining anyone as you have is unforgivable, but I will let you go today, because that is what Overwatch does. We show mercy and kindness where there is none! We aim to save lives, not continue grudges! And if anyone ever threatens the people of this world again, we will be there! We will do whatever it takes to fix what humans and Omnics alike have broken in this world, because that is what we do! That is what we fight for!" Reinhardt let the words sink in as the crowd stared.
"Well, Vishkar? What do you fight for!? Because the bodies in the ambulances show that it definitely isn't the preservation of lives! Is killing in cold blood truly the best way to pave the roads for a better future?! Because that sounds like a war! And that is not what war does! I have fought in war, and it does anything but pave the future in positivity! It preserves the bitter remains of the world that can be salvaged! It holds together pieces that can only be reassembled in times of peace! War will not bring joy! War brings nothing but pain and sorrow! Is that truly what anyone wishes to start? Ask yourself this the next time you use a beam weapon on an innocent civilian!" Reinhardt turned his gaze on the crowd.
"And you guys! You fought for what you believe in! I applaud your courage! However, do not endanger yourselves, or others needlessly as you have! Stirring conflict will not bring a mutual respect! Let us soldiers and agents fight the war! That's why we do it! We fight to keep you all out of it! That is what we stand for! That is Overwatch!"
Reinhardt thrust his hammer over his head as a tidal wave of overjoyed cheers, determined battle cries, and triumphant roars swept over the crowd, drowning out anything the officers, sirens, or Vishkar speakers could make. The foundation of buildings seemed to quake as Reinhardt marched through the crowd, Torbjörn watching from above with something akin to a smile. He was holding a camera.
It was time to head back to the ship. Reinhardt needed a drink.
…
Mercy bounced back and forth from tending to Lúcio to tending to Lena as Torbjörn flew the ship. Lúcio was on his stomach in the dropship at her command as she rubbed some disinfectant on his back. It was horribly mangled, dried gashes with smeared blood coated his back. They were whip marks. Vishkar had used a whip on Lúcio. It was horrific, that such a supposedly hi-tech company would use such a barbaric and cruel means of punishment.
The doctor hummed quietly in an attempt to soothe herself as she used rudimentary medical equipment to treat his wounds.
When his whip marks were treated, Mercy sighed and turned to Lena. She was horribly burnt in several locations, but Angela couldn't deal with her if she tried. She was on backup power. Lena curled over her harness in some desperate attempt to be as stabilized as possible. Her form was still present, she was in no danger of fading through time, but she was partially non-corporeal. She could still phase through objects, though not nearly as quickly as when she does not have her accelerator.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was biting her lip. Her legs were bent and she had herself pressed to the wall of the jet, which was too thick for her to phase through. Her face was ashen as she hugged her harness with her head tucked down. She didn't seem to notice the small wires she phased through.
"Reinhardt, could you please contact Winston, and order two hospital beds and Lena's charger be brought to the hangar?"
"Of course," he answered quietly, reaching for one of the jet's HoloVid projectors to contact Winston. Reinhardt hated acknowledging Lena's chronal disassociation. He felt like he was alienating her. Angela didn't exactly agree with his philosophy, but she could understand it.
Torbjörn grunted from the cockpit, calling for Mercy's attention. She hurried up, hoping to get back to her patients quickly.
"Hello, Torbjörn. What is the matter? Were you injured, as well?" he didn't even look at her as he spoke.
"Is there really no way to extend the power source on that thing? Or to do some cybernetic enhancements so it can use more organic energy? I'm getting kind of sick of needing to watch a battery regularly bring this girl to her knees."
Dr Ziegler sighed. "Perhaps. If we were to invest the research into it, I'm sure we could harness the natural chronal energy Lena generates, but it would take a toll on her, more likely than not. And integrating it directly into her body could do more harm than good."
Torbjörn rolled his eyes. "It's getting pretty irritating, having to listen to her squabble about it, though. Whose idea was it to stick her in that jet anyway? I think they needed to run a few more dummy tests."
Mercy glared at him, until the ragged coughs of Lúcio called her away.
…
Tracer woke up gasping for breath as terror clutched her heart in a vice grip. Flashes of blood and screaming echoed through her head from her latest dream. Her head continued to pound as she re-oriented herself. There was a dresser next to her with a simple lamp on it, and a few meters from her bed was a desk full of medical equipment. Another stupid IV drip was hooked up to her arm, and she was clearly in a hospital bed. Wonderful. The only source of light came from her chronal accelerator, which was charging nearby.
Tracer was bandaged in several locations. Her hospital gown covered up her torso, which was almost entirely wrapped. Her right shoulder was hard to move thanks to the wrappings, her left calf also had a fair amount of it, and her left upper arm was equally as mummified. There was a dull sting underneath it all, not hidden by the painkillers. Those burns must have been bad. Her head continued to hammer itself, though.
In a nearby seat, fast asleep yet still sitting up was Jesse, with his head tipped into his arm.
"Jesse? What are you doing here?" Tracer called out as he woke up with a start, her voice rough and tired.
"Oh, Lena! Glad to see you're awake. How ya feelin'? Them turrets really did a number on ya." He sat up straight. Only then did Tracer notice that his prosthetic arm was missing.
"I'm… fine, what the heck happened to you though? You look disastrous."
"Someone attacked while you were gone. Genji and I managed to capture her, but we're a little worse for wear after all of it," he admitted almost sheepishly.
"Who attacked? Was she alone? Who would be that stupid?" Tracer demanded, leaning up against the bed with a slight groan.
"She goes by Sombra. We don't have nothin' on her profile, identity, or anythin' like that. All I know was that she was using Null Sector tech, and that made for a rough fight."
"What? Null Sector? How did she ever get her hands on that?" Tracer nearly jumped out of the bed, prepared to question the girl herself.
"Woah there, Lena! Don't go hoppin' out of bed yet! We don't know how she got that tech, but she seems to have a knack for findin' toys that don't belong to her."
Tracer grit her teeth. "Stupid! Doesn't she know how many lives Null Sector destroyed? Does she have no conscious? No sense of pity? Null Sector killed hundreds! And here she is, just pillaging their technology like it's nothing!" Tracer threw the covers off and rose to leave the bed. Jesse used his good arm to push her back onto the bed, despite her struggling. "Let me go! I have to show her! I have to make her pay for using that tech!"
"Lena, no way! You're not well right now! Just wait until you're at least a little bit healed to try and talk to her! She'll just get under your skin right now!"
"What makes you think she'll get under my skin? I'm fine!"
"No, I'd say your far from fine! You've been actin' nothin' but off for the past while! The doc told me! You've been moody, had a headache that hasn't gone away, and not to mention the fact that you've been tossin' and turnin' in your sleep like nobody's business!" McCree listed, glaring at her beneath him as she hissed in pain from the pressure on her shoulder, twisting aside to try to throw him off. He let up on the pressure, but was intent on not letting her leave the bed. "Look at yourself right now! Since when do you get this upset? What happened to perky and happy?"
"You know it's fake, I know it's fake, stop pretending my cheeriness was me!" Tracer screamed, forcing his arm off her as she spat her words at him.
"No, it's not! Do you act cheerful every now and again, yeah, ya do! Are ya sad every now and again? Yeah, duh! But what happened to the Lena that just wants to help people? To make the world a better place? Because this Lena sure ain't that Lena! You've been nothing but a snarky pill ever since you got back from the Shimada mission!" He retorted, thrusting her back on the bed as she tried to get off.
"You wouldn't know that's me! You know nothing about me!"
"Not true! I know ya better than most, so stop pretending like nothing is wrong and tell me why you've been like this!"
"I don't know; maybe it's because I have to deal with reliving mistakes that aren't even mine!" Jesse's face went from anger to surprise in an instant. He quieted, bowing his head ever so slightly with a threatening glare, daring her to leave the bed. She continued.
"I got 'lucky' enough to be picked for that dumb flight! Then I have to waste a year away, watching everyone grow around me as I'm stuck as a science experiment in a cage! Every so often, when I do leave the cage, it's to watch as you murder civilians in the Deadlock gang, or to see Morrison leading his men to a massacre in the Omnic Crisis! I never got to do anything on my own! I always had to pay for your mistakes!" her voice hitched, and her ugly expression melded into that of loathing and sorrow as a thin stream of tears flowed from her glaring eyes. McCree recoiled as if struck. The Deadlock gang. That was nothing but regrets.
"So, excuse me if I have some misgivings with the situation at hand! And guess what? That's not it! Not only am I just a killing science experiment, I'm on a battery! If a hotel's outlets are weak, if my chord breaks, or God forbid the charging port is damaged, I get to do it all again! I get to relive things that aren't even my fault! Tell me, how the hell do you expect me to stay perky like that? Because I would genuinely like to know! At any moment, if I forget to plug into my machines, my life support, then I get to suffer for it! I'm no less a robot than Genji or the Omnics! Want to know the difference though, between the Omnics and me?" She looked away, trying to melt the curtains with her venomous glare.
"They can survive on their own. They don't constantly have to worry about what may happen if there isn't an outlet in the hotel they hunker in! They don't have to worry about whether or not they're going to have to die over and over again the next time they can't charge a stupid battery! They don't need to worry about whether, if they do get lost, if someone will even be capable of helping them if they want to!" She paused, taking a deep, hoarse breath. McCree watched with wide eyes, mouth ajar.
"So, Jesse. Tell me. How do you honestly expect me to play the optimist in this mess? Tell me! I'd love to know!"
"Do ya really wanna know why I do? Let me tell you!" Jesse announced with renewed frustration. "It's because you're a good person! Because you care! You have motivations! You want to be the best you can be to help the world!"
Her words were sombre and hushed, smooth and cold. "Well, maybe I'm not as good a person as you think I am. You don't want me to talk some sense into Sombra? Fine. I'm going to my room. Leave me alone." With that, Tracer yanked out the IV drip, ran to grab her harness and charger, and blinked out of the room as McCree just watched.
He had never been more certain that something was wrong with his sister. He knew the "cold, heartless, and selfish" type. That was him before Blackwatch. That was Talon. That was definitely not Lena, though. Something was wrong. Someone had said something to her, or hurt her in some way. He didn't know for certain, but he had his suspicions. All he knew for sure was that there was no way that was Lena talking there.
…
Sombra continued tapping on the music game as she began writing the message to Gabe. Her earpiece had started playing the audio it recorded from the bug on Tracer's harness. She kicked her legs, which were hanging off the bed as she tapped the music notes.
Good news. Your little cowboy pupil has been prodding the hornet's nest. Things should go even quicker than before.
About ten seconds later, Reaper's gruff voice cut through. "He is not my pupil. Regardless, just do whatever is necessary."
If my hunch is right, then she'll be coming to "visit" me soon. I can get her properly riled up in no time. She has no idea.
"Good. Get her as upset as possible."
In her condition? Oh, she'll be fuming. It'll be mere hours after that.
"Keep me posted."
Aye aye,sir. Say, any chance I can get a raise from all this?
"No way in hell."
Aw. Just thought I'd ask. Sombra sighed in contentment, waving her hand to shut off her game. Now was when the fun began. This is when Lena Oxton would be no more. What use is there for a weakling, anyway? Tracer was much more useful.
