Mercenary

by ShizzySavage16

Scout finds himself a century in the future after a somewhat successful revenge plan against Engie... now he's stuck in 2080! A heartbroken Tracer stumbles upon the unconscious Scout, which leads to a dangerous situation that exposes their strong feelings for each other... What will be in store for the two young runners that have found love for each other? (Rated M for LEMONS!)

25. A Mercenary Reunited (Pt II)

Y'all, I am so sorry for keeping the updates prolonged, and unfortunately, the updates will become more uncommon as time passes... Reasons for that is down in the end-section of this chapter.

But enough of that. You guys came here to read, and read you shall. Enjoy the chapter :)

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Chapter 22: A Mercenary Reunited (Pt. II)

"Oi, who are these people, love?" Tracer asked Scout.

He didn't hear her. He was in too much disbelief to be paying attention to anyone else other than his fellow teammates...

She shrugged her shoulders at his lack of a reply, not making a big deal out of it, understanding how high his current excitement must've been.

Instead, she looked on in confusion at the group of people that he apparently knew.

Number '35' was about at the same level of confusion with Tracer, finding herself uncertain of what to do in the exact situation, but Tracer at least had an idea of what to do when approached by a group of random individuals that one of their colleagues knew.

Number '99' was high up above a tree and had a view of every person that Scout was going on about. His sniper rifle had remained on standby and so did his concealment, saving it just in case things were to go awry between his squad and the group of 6.

Number '30' was still in concealment near some trees, as with Val as well. All he would need was Tracer's word on permission to fire, and he would pull on the trigger from the unexpected angle. Unfortunately for him and his fellow colleagues, Tracer turned her comms off, so discreet communication could no longer be had without them breaking their cover.

Number '50' was still low within the grass, waiting for an opportunity to arise should it reveal itself.

Originally, Tracer wasn't going to reveal herself... she always wanted the best possible results from an ambush.

But when she heard a woman yelling out Scout's name, she got suspicious...

Really suspicious because it was a woman?

The concern for her possible safety had been thrown out the window at that moment. The reasoning behind breaking her own cover at just hearing the voice of a woman calling out Scout's name was unknown...

It must have been a serious concern for her...

Tracer cautiously examined the group of people that Scout was raving on about.

Her eyes first landed on the slim man in the red suit, and while Scout was rather skinny for a boy, the man in the red suit was quite possibly, even skinnier.

But physical appearance aside, she figured he looked harmless enough, there was just something about his partial face mask that was off-putting to her... his whole character just gave her the impression of 'Cunning member of a successful bank heist'...

She'd be keeping her eyes on him... all of them, but especially him.

She let her eyes travel on to the next person — A man that was well past his youth and into his fifties. He looked like one of those old construction workers that she had read about in books (back when she used to read), and so she quickly assumed that he was the smartest person there because of his appearance.

Stereotypes were a real thing to Tracer.

The eye goggles and his tool belt helped in her coming to her own conclusion she made about him.

Her eyes then shifted to the next... person?

Thing?

She shuddered a bit and furrowed her brows nervously at the 'thing' that was holding... what looked to be a homemade flamethrower?!

Unconventional, and terrifying — Tracer did not like the sight of whatever that 'thing' was.

The chronic, all black mask it wore really intimidated her. The two empty sockets where one's eyes should've been on the mask looked like endless voids of dark instead.

She quickly shifted her eyes to the next person-

Yes — A person,

He was a big, towering bald-headed man with a Minigun that, fortunately, wasn't revved up. If it was revved up, then she would've been ten times as cautious around them, as she had already seen what revved up chain guns were capable of.

The weapon the big man held unfortunately reminded her of the devastating 'Bastion' units she fought during the Omnic crisis... she didn't ever want to see such a weapon rev up again, and because of the triggering thought, he automatically was placed as the most dangerous looking one out of everyone there... the big belt of bullets strapped around his chest didn't help in a calmer appearance either...

She examined the next person and felt some relief in the normalcy of his appearance.

He had an all white lab coat and some sort of backpack attached to him. On his sleeve was a red cross... along with a few dried blood stains.

She'd question where those bloodstains came from.

She was unsure if he was holding a weapon that actually caused damage because there were tiny symbols of transparent positive signs floating about around the wide nozzle of his... device...

But what type of weapon would look so peaceful and spew out positive signs?

No weapon...

Except...

Maybe Mercy's staff. But that really wasn't a weapon...

Now that she thought about it, Mercy's staff and the device that had little red positive signs floating about looked almost familiar to her.

She finally let her eyes land on the short woman with the purple blouse on.

Tracer's brows raised, "A beauty..." She muttered quietly.

Tracer thought she looked gorgeous, despite the obvious bad hair day she had gone through.

Her hair was similar to a colour of a raven — A dark purple, that had hints of black in between. Her face held a light tan that was similar to Scout's, but only a tad bit lighter. Her features were smooth, her nose had a cute tip, her lips looked soft, plump, and had a casually dazzling colour of a purple lip balm... but lip balm aside, she looked about as natural as they came.

Her body had the figure of an hourglass. A waistline that curved in, which accentuated the sides of her rear. She was slim, and the clothing she wore really helped emphasize how nice her body was, in a professional way, of course — impossible to be labeled as 'slutty' clothing.

And just like Tracer, she was short, and although Tracer had a small 2-inch height advantage over her, both of them would remain labeled as short, and nothing else.

But their bodies weren't exactly the same. Tracer could tell that she had longer legs than the woman.

And Tracer didn't wanna toot her own horn... but she assumed that her own rear looked better than her's... but there was no telling behind the skirt that covered it.

She then had a growing want to see if her rear was actually worth raving about...

And then there were her eyes.

Tracer thought her emerald green eyes were simply stunning, and the fact that she wore glasses to compliment the sharpness of her eyes...

Tracer couldn't lie — she wished her eyes looked as amazing as her's, but she refused to stop comparing herself to her, because in her mind, she herself was the most beautiful lady to have ever existed — A huge part of that belief coming from Scout and his touching, genuine words...

But all in all, the woman looked beautiful, there was no doubting it.

Tracer then looked at Scout... who looked as ecstatic as he could possibly be.

"Ah jeez- you guys won't believe how crazy it's been here!" Scout chirped with enthusiasm, speaking to no one specifically.

He looked over the group, and was only a bit discontent at seeing The Engineer, as he had yet to forget about the 'prank' he played on him during the time of the ceasefire.

He donned a contagious smile as he quickly looked over his colleagues.

But it went away when his eyes landed on familiar green ones...

The distinct tinge of green he used to fiend for every day — just to catch a sight of the exotic colour in his usual routine walks around her office...

A slight lump in his throat formed, and his smile began to disappear.

She looked the same as the last time he saw her...

sexy...

classy...

And downright gorgeous...

And the way she wore her glasses, the same way that caused his heart to do backflips in its place; she wore it crooked.

The way her eyes seemed to zero in on his... so casually behind her crooked lens... the same eyes he just wanted to adore, and put safety and affection in so many times in the past — was staring directly at him.

Scout never took in the intensity of the situation when he yelled out her name so casually earlier, it was just natural for him to let her name be the first thing that came out of his mouth...

Just like it had been before...

But now that she was actually here, and he could see her for himself, standing no less than 20 meters from him...

It seemed like he couldn't speak... or even breathe in that regard...

"Miss... Miss Pauling..." Scout let out a quiet exhale, inhaling the past feelings that were still squirming inside of him about her.

The Spy quickly noticed and rolled his eyes disappointingly, "Oublie La Femme, Jeremy." He muttered quietly.

Scout felt a feeling of the past clutching the strings of his heart when he looked at her eyes... It was the same hopeless feeling he had on that unfortunate day, when he stopped by her office door all those weeks ago, the day when he finally stopped trying to go for her heart.

It was the day where his affection for Miss Pauling was completely erased, a pivotal moment for his adult life...

... Or so he thought...

As much as he wanted it to, his body couldn't deny the signals of affection, because natural occurrences couldn't be denied in the first place.

He felt his heartbeat pacing in his chest, his jaw slightly slacking, and his pupils becoming wider with each millisecond that passed... and the telltale feeling of crimson rushing up to the cheeks was once again — pouring on into his skin... the poor, flustered boy...

Just like it had used to do the many times he had seen her,

But like a stalker's eyes in the darkest corner of the room — A certain lady noticed everything he was doing...

Tracer noticed it... all of it, and she followed Scout's stare...

She followed his stare...

Followed it...

She followed it until her eyes landed on the woman in the purple blouse...

The lady was staring back at him as well...

Suddenly, a spark of tremendous jealousy and possessiveness erupted inside of Tracer, who looked back towards Scout with a sour expression.

But when she did...

Her eyes widened when she looked at Scout's face.

'No...'

Scout's eyes were widened. His mouth was slightly open... and... and...

She couldn't believe it...

'IS THAT A BLUSH?!'

Tracer's thoughts were in the beginning stages of brewing a storm.

'What-! How could he?! Why is he staring at her like that?! WHY IS SHE STARING AT HIM LIKE THAT- WHO IS THIS DAMNED LADY?!'

She was trying hard to maintain a straight face, despite the bombs that were going off inside of her head.

Her stare turned into venom, and she called on Scout immediately, holding her lips in anger.

"SCOUT!" She said through hushed lips, her tone coming out harsher than she intended it to be.

"Wha-? Huh?" Scout quickly blinked his eyes and shook his head confusingly, brought out of... what Tracer assumed to be, was a trance... and she was sure she had a good idea on who the source of his trance might've been.

Scout looked at her, and apologized, "Oh, sorry, I ain't heard ya over there, Tracer-"

She interrupted him, wishing she could slap him for looking at the woman, "Who... who are these people, Scout?" She asked again, more impatiently than last time, her teeth slightly gritted.

What she really wanted to ask, was who the lady in the purple was, but she didn't want to be too suspicious off the bat, so she saved it for later.

She needed to know why he was staring at her like that...

That... that damned blush of his.

Tracer was livid.

Scout didn't know if she was angry or not, but he could certainly see that she was confused. Her eyes said it all.

He took a breath before speaking, "... Okay, Tracer, you're probably wondering what the hell is going on right now-"

"Yeah! I am!" She interrupted, once again, saying it more harshly than she intended it to be...

She couldn't help it.

Every syllable of her's sounded so stressed.

"Who are these people? And what relation do you have with them?"

'And who is that damn woman you're staring at?!' She thought to herself.

"Uh- Okay, lemme explain." Scout took a deep breath as he started to improvise an explanation on the spot, "So remember when I told you that I worked for a company that was called 'RED', and that the fella's I worked with were a buncha Mercenaries?"

Tracer nodded at him with narrowed eyes, following along so far, "Yes, I remember."

"Great! Well, these are those guys I was talking about." He said, gesturing to the whole group (excluding Miss Pauling and Pyro). He then pointed at Spy, "See that Frenchie with the crappy suit?"

Spy furrowed his brows at Scout, clearly disapproving of how he was introducing him to her.

"Mhm." Tracer nodded emotionlessly. For the first time, she didn't feel in the mood for his antics, as she just wanted him to introduce the lady instead.

She exhaled calmly, trying to reduce the tension that was going on inside of her head...

'He's gonna get it for looking at her like that.' She thought to herself.

What it was... it was probably related to something that wouldn't be involved in a children's book.

"It's not a bad suit, just some grass stains here and there." She lazily commented, her cheery nature noticeably gone.

"That ain't the point, but sure." Scout chuckled, "That's Spy, or as I like to call 'em — The shapeshifting bastard." He threw a shit-eating grin at his colleague.

The Heavy chuckled a bit at Scout's alias he used for The Spy, "Leetle man still has mouth for Spy."

Spy groaned and palmed his face at Scout even more, "Imbecile..." He muttered under his breath.

Before he was rudely introduced by none other than his colleague and the son who he had abandoned, Scout, he was steadily, and discreetly examining the swift change of attitude in Tracer's face.

The Spy was an expert at examining one's feelings just by looking at their eyes. He was still in disbelief of how Scout managed to get such a fine damsel, but what surprised him even more, was the fierce loyalty that she had towards him.

Based on Tracer's tone, the look in her eyes, and her body language alone — Spy could tell that she was possessive...

Very possessive.

Spy himself had been, and slept with said types of women before (He's been with every kind).

The sex was... decent... until the woman started to get the odd urge/want, to take lead in every session that followed, that's when he noticed something off about it.

If it was up to him, he would never mingle up with a possessive woman after having an experience with the first couple few.

Based on Spy's past experiences, he found that the problem with them, was the lack of freedom the male had, and the nervousness that would slowly apply to the man as the relationship got deeper, which would all stem from the woman herself — being put in a state of constant fear, or nervousness whenever the lady was around the man.

The lack of freedom was what bothered Spy the most, as he found that possessive women would jump to conclusions in a heartbeat — automatically assuming that every woman he was talking to, regardless if it was a colleague or not, he would be trying to flirt with, or vice versa.

Possessive women were quick to believe the man to be deceiving in the relationship if caught talking with another lady that wasn't them.

And based on what Spy has seen so far, Tracer was all of that with Scout.

Spy could tell.

He guessed that if a conversation between Miss Pauling and Tracer was to happen, there'd be a certain edge applied to Tracer's tone, and having the knowledge of what Miss Pauling wanted was truly similar to what Tracer had with Scout... he was almost certain that there'd be some problems between the two ladies.

Now he just had to wait for when the unfortunate truth would be revealed to Miss Pauling — that Scout, was taken by another lover... a lover, that did not go by the name of Miss Pauling...

He wondered how she would react to knowing about the relationship that Scout and Tracer had... would she be furious?

Probably.

Would she let him have his way with her, or would she attempt to go after him, regardless of who he was with?

And if it was the latter, how would she manage to claw him away from a woman who he clearly had a plethora of love for?

Of course, the icebreaker in the equation was going to be Scout himself — He was going to be the one to decide who he preferred more.

And though Spy had no right at all to play a factor in the choices that Scout made, he only hoped that Scout had the self-decency to respect himself, and stay with Tracer instead; there was no use of going back to a woman (Miss Pauling) that didn't want him in the beginning, when his heart was fully open for her's.

The Spy considered it offensive to oneself to give love to a woman that didn't want them in the past.

Spy knew he didn't deserve any credit for Scout's doings; he was a terrible father and an even worse person in his own son's eyes, and he knew it... and he accepted it wholeheartedly...

He just wanted Scout to be a man.

He wanted him to be strong in everything.

But most importantly, he wanted Scout to succeed in his love life, and being the 'lady killer' that Spy held the title of — It was no surprise that he had such high expectations from that specific category.

When Spy saw nothing but disappointment and failure coming into Scout's way of romance, he felt pity for him. It lead him to many attempts of discouraging him from certain women (Namely, Miss Pauling), in hopes that he would smarten up, and go for others because there were literally millions of ladies in the world he could go for.

But Scout was stubborn and hard-headed, which rivaled Spy's own traits by a mile.

He was beyond disappointed to see even more of his son's failed attempts at romancing a lady who did not want him.

But now that a woman... a gorgeous woman as well — loved and wanted Scout for who he was... Spy felt entitled as a Father, to make sure his son's relationship would remain unhindered and strong.

There was a certain pride that Spy felt when he saw his son succeeding in something that had never gone right for him prior to this encounter...

It was a pride that was only available for Father's...

The Spy cleared his throat and adjusted his suit, interrupting Scout, "Bonjour, Madame." He greeted the lady, "If you will excuse my colleague's... foul-mouthed introduction," He glared at Scout, quickly returning to make eye contact with Tracer, "... allow me to properly introduce all 6 of us to you and your's." He asked, gesturing to her colleagues that he knew were still in hiding.

"Uhh, 'Scuse me Frenchie, but I'm pretty sure that she asked me to explain you guys." Scout insisted.

Tracer sighed because she was discreetly annoyed at Scout for exchanging a 'stare' with the other woman of the group, she really didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

Normally, Tracer loved Scout whenever he was opening his mouth to say something that was probably going to be goofy and slightly informative, just like he did with the man in the suit recently. But if it was for pure information that she was looking for and no goofiness... Scout's masked colleague would probably do better in that department than Scout himself, and top it on the fact that she was furious about him looking at other women that weren't named, Tracer, she wasn't really in the mood to hear a whole lot of his talking.

Now, she didn't want to be too obvious about her annoyance, so to prevent any suspicions from Scout, she recalled the first conversation she had with him, back inside of the building.

"Umm, sorry, Scout, but I already heard your explanation from yesterday. I'd like to hear it from different sources if you don't mind...?" She threw a hopeful smile at him, as much as she wanted to throw a furious frown instead.

Scout nodded, "Yeah, sure. Jus' let me know if he gets too boring!"

"Mhm." She nodded her head with no emotion, turning her head towards Spy shortly after, "Go ahead, mate."

"Merci, Madame." Spy said.

He started it off by explaining the general background of the company that he and his group worked for.

"We all work for a company called 'RED'. You may think it is a colour, but I assure you it is anything but. It's an abbreviation that stands for 'Reliable Excavation Demolitions', but I must tell you, that our professions have hardly to do anything with that misleading abbreviation."

"What's your professions then?" She asked.

She soon realized the redundancy of her question, as Scout himself had told her about what they did for a living.

She wasn't sure whether to believe him about all of them being mercenaries, she had her doubts.

But it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Oh, sod that." She rejected her earlier question, focusing on a new one, "Your buddy over here, Scout," She pointed at him without staring, "... told me a bit about himself and his other colleagues... which I assume, are all you lot in front of me, and that you're all... well, mercenaries... care to elaborate?"

Spy grimaced, "Then the boy has been informed correctly. Yes, Madame — We're hired killers, or as you may commonly refer to us as Mercenaries... either one is suitable." He added with a small smile.

Tracer frowned and shuddered visibly at hearing him say it with so much pride.

"All of you?" She asked, her eyes landing on the woman in the purple blouse specifically.

Tracer would be surprised if the woman in purple was a mercenary... she didn't exactly have the gear that went with the appearance of one.

Flats, stockings, what looked to be a puny pistol, and a damn blouse?

What business meeting was she going to in this attire?

... Attire aside, she simply looked too damn beautiful to be getting shot at, or vice versa.

She looked- no, WAS, way too gorgeous to be getting her hands dirty.

"Everyone in red clothing that is gathered here is a Mercenary of 'RED' — Excluding the lady in purple, who is our employer's assistant." Spy explained.

Tracer raised her brows at her ranking amongst the employees, "Oh?" She was fairly intrigued, "So what can you tell me about 'er?"

"We'll let Madame Pauling answer-"

Scout suddenly cut in, a voice that had a weird sense of determination... determination for what exactly, was unknown...

Scout narrowed her eyes at Miss Pauling, lazily pointing towards her direction, "That's Miss Pauling over there, Tracer. Woman in the purple dress that usually has her clipboard around with her, which probably has daily house chores on it, but ay, I dunno' anything 'bout that..." He scoffed, "I don't know why she don't got it with her. That thing's always sticked to that damn stomach of her's,"

He made an exceptionally rude gesture when he mentioned her stomach, creating two parallel lines out of thin air that signaled how skinny she possibly was.

Heavy was in awe of how disrespectful Scout was being to Miss Pauling, his jaw slacking down from its hold.

"That's a big burn on ya bod, hun'." Number '35' commented, trying hard not to snicker.

"Zat is not normal of Jeremy." Medic whispered to Heavy.

Spy had to chuckle at Scout's mannerism, while Miss Pauling was less than happy at what she was hearing and seeing from him.

A strong frown especially came over Miss Pauling's face when he made the rude gesture of her body.

"Scout?!" Miss Pauling shot daggers at him, feeling very ashamed of herself at the current moment.

"I ain't done nothing wrong, Miss Pauling!" Scout shrugged with his hands high, totally oblivious to the rude gesture that she fully took witness of.

She inhaled deeply and recollected her composure, "... I'll have you know that The Administrator also keeps an eye on behaviour that is directed towards the assistant."

Scout raised a brow, "What're you gonna do, snitch on me? When I ain't did anything bad? C'mon, that's gonna lead to you getting the boot..." He said, halting his hand movements.

"You know what I mean, Scout." Miss Pauling said, unimpressed at his attitude.

"Nah. I got no sort of clue, Miss Pauling." He finished with the quick gesture and continued with his description, "'Nuff 'bout that, though." He faced towards Tracer once again, "She tells us whatever the boss tells us to do, but when the boss ain't available, she's basically a walking microphone that gives us orders when the boss is busy."

Tracer was somewhat more tolerable of seeing Scout's face now that he has shown some obvious rudeness to the other woman, which got her turning towards him, engaged in the conversation, "That doesn't sound fun." She commented quietly.

"Oh, trust me, Tracer. It's hell." Scout said with a small chuckle.

"That ain't what you said last time you did something for her, Scout." The mercenary with the hardhat commented, "And the way you described it wasn't exactly fitting of a comparison to where the wicked go." He was suspicious of how surprising Scout's attitude was towards his superior — Miss Pauling.

Scout held up a finger to argue, "Ahh... oh," His finger started to slouch when he realized that Engineer made a valid point.

A valid point that had him stumped.

So in response, he pulled out the 'Old Reliable' technique that got him out of a losing situation multiple times in the past.

"I was being nice that day. Snobby, polite 'n all... just like Spy! But, uh — not." He lied, much to Spy's annoyance...

And it worked!

The Engineer scoffed with an expression that said otherwise, but went along with what he claimed, "Whatever you say, youngin'."

Tracer grew cautious at the words of Scout's fellow mercenary, wary that what Scout claimed of the other woman's favours was nothing but a lie.

But Tracer was also more relaxed when she noticed Scout's behaviour toward Miss Pauling... she so badly wanted to believe that she didn't have anything to worry about when it came to the stare that both Scout and Miss Pauling shared just a while ago, but it seemed to stay in her mind due to her extreme clinginess towards him.

It was fucking annoying, of course, and it made her anxious about her relationship with him.

"Well, continuing on, yeah?" Tracer asked, "What's your boss usually busy with? Was he, or she, the one that got you lot into the beautiful future of Earth, or was this by complete accident?" She sought for multiple questions to be answered, hoping that any one of them could provide.

Miss Pauling cleared her throat and prepared to answer Tracer's questions.

"Well... Miss...?" She awaited her name.

"Lena." She responded with no emotion.

"Well, Lena, I'll answer your questions in order as long as you tell your friend over there to lower her weapon down a bit," She sent a look towards Number '35'.

"You sure we can trust 'em, boss?" Number '35' asked, still keeping her weapon slightly pointed at the group.

"No one toted shots yet, ma'am. You can trust us." The engineer said, putting his shotgun away into the back holster.

Number '35' still awaited Tracer's approval.

"Oi, just lower the weapon down, love. We can trust them." Tracer said, "... for now." She added.

Number '35' nodded, "Okay, boss." She lowered her weapons down and backed 2 steps further away from the group.

"Appreciated, Lena." Miss Pauling said, giving her a polite smile.

As much as Tracer wanted to refuse to form a smile on her lips, she ended up doing so anyway.

"No problem." She said with slightly gritted teeth, a smile that looked forced — plastered all on her face.

"So, our boss, or, my superior I should say, is usually busy with monitoring over the battles that these men usually fight."

"Who are they fighting?" Tracer asked.

"A company that are the rivals of RED itself — BLU, short for 'Builders League United'."

"And let me guess, BLU, has mercenaries at their disposal as well?" Tracer assumed.

"Yep."

"Okay... so what're these two companies even fighting for?"

Miss Pauling was about to speak until Tracer interrupted herself.

"Oh- Actually- scratch that, how in the blazes did you lot get here?! I'm assuming you're all from the 1960's, which seriously pops a screw in the old noodle of mine! How?" She asked.

"It's... it's complicated..." Miss Pauling was unsure of how to answer her question. She looked at Engineer for help, hoping that he could take her role as the speaker.

Engineer nodded understandingly.

"I'm actually gonna let our Engineer answer your question if you don't mind." She said.

"Who? The one with the hardhat?" Tracer pointed.

Scout suddenly whispered in her ear, "Just call the old fossil, 'Hardhat'. Everyone calls him that." He snickered and winked at her, who was trying hard not to smile at his loveable humour.

Miss Pauling eyed his wink at Tracer with so much focus, that the lens of her glasses probably emitted a glint.

Miss Pauling knew Tracer was already beyond gorgeous, she just hoped that Scout didn't start 'sweet talking' her...

But knowing him, he probably already did...

Still, she kept her hopes high.

Ultimately, Tracer decided not to take Scout's advice and went on by asking his name, "'Ello there, love. Can I get your name?"

"Howdy, Lena. Name's, Dell, or you can just call me 'Engie' for short — don't matter much. But it seems like you're intent on finding out just how in the hell we even ended up here... well, I got the answer to that, but there is one thing to take note of — My answer only applies to the rest of the people I came with, not the young gun beside you." Engineer said, pointing at Scout.

"You don't gotta tell her, Hardhat — she already knows." Scout said, ready to give him a full story.

Fortunately for everyone's ears, Tracer nodded to confirm his claim, preventing his possibly long story from being told.

"So if she knows, then you yourself must know how you got here. Do you, Scout?"

Never mind, Scout's story was bound to be told — one way or another.

He began, "Yeah I do! That friggin', fancy, schmancy teleporter of your's created a friggin' explosion in the room! And the next thing I know, I'm floating in the skies, or in- in, light-? I don't know. But then like, twenty seconds later, I end up crashing inside of a building-"

"Woah woah, partner. Slow down, we-"

"Shut up! You interrupted the best part!"

Engineer rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so... yeah, I, uh- I WAS CRASHING DOWN A BUILDING, then 'BAM'. I land face first onto the damn ground, and the best part about that whole story..."

He chuckled and shook his head slightly, "Can you guys see that building behind you?" He pointed.

Heavy turned around to examine the building, then looked back at Scout, "What about building that is so intriguing?" He asked.

"I second his comment. It is a building that is beyond repair. Do you seem to have a fascination for such structures that are comparable to feces?" Spy asked.

Tracer giggled at Spy's insult, which only made Scout even more annoyed.

"Shut ya expensive, cheese-rottin' mouth up, Spy!" Scout said, giving him the finger.

Spy only chuckled in response.

Scout gave him 2 birds, and turned toward Heavy, finally answering his question, "Big fella, that's the building where I crashed in."

Heavy widened his eyes in response, unable to come up with a response because of how odd the chances were of arriving near a spot where Scout had arrived initially...

Spy wasn't surprised. He always expected unexpected occurrences, such as this one.

"Hogwash. That sounds about as wild as a rat's tail!" Engineer complained.

"A 'Dead' rat tail you mean, Hardhat. Rat's can't move their tails unless they're dead." Scout insisted.

"How... how in tarnation...?" The engineer was at a loss for words.

The Medic began to speak up, "Ze only thing zat may seem like a possibility is if zere is a special energy that draws our time paths together... what is ze current year, mein Dame?" He asked Tracer.

"2080... and you're all from-"

"1968..." Medic finished for her.

He rubbed his chin, in a deep thought as to how this specific situation came to be for both Scout, and their group — to be teleported to the same year and the same place.

A lightbulb flashed in The Medic's mind.

"Excuse me, Dame. Do you happen to have any devices zat are capable of teleportation — whether it be from Point A to point B, or era to era?" He asked.

Tracer didn't want to answer his question because it was confidential information, and she didn't exactly trust any of them yet with having knowledge of their teleporter, which was still being experimented on.

The only non-Overwatch individual that she gave the classified information to, was Scout.

It was a slip-up of her words that ended up with him having knowledge of a way to get back home, he couldn't care less if it was a damn teleporter — He just wanted to get back home.

And it was made obvious that Scout had no evil intentions to do with the knowledge of Overwatch's unstable teleporter, it has seemed to fade from his memory the more time he spent with her, taking up all of his available space inside of his mind.

But these people weren't Scout.

They were killers, possible criminal masterminds... and people who could cause Scout to blush in front of his girlfriend...

That damn lady.

Tracer couldn't trust them, especially the one in purple.

It has been a moment of slight silence after Medic has asked the question.

"Hmph, it seems zat ze woman is in deep thought." He observed.

"Yo, Doc. They do have a teleporter." Scout answered for her.

Number '35' got cautious, "Woah there, rookie. How the hell do you know about that?"

"I told him." Tracer suddenly said, "When Winston sent me to this same spot to investigate a weird spike of energy... but our teleporter's unstable..." She paused as she tried connecting the dots for her question.

"Doc... are you saying that our teleporter somehow intervened with the way that your's was supposed to work?" She asked, a curious brow raising.

"Precisely, Meine Lena... that's what I had said earlier." Medic answered, "But not how it was supposed to work, as we had no idea where zis would take us, but instead, ze alteration of it."

"Mind explaining it, love?" Tracer asked, a slight confusion inside of her.

"Gladly, Freunde." Medic started by explaining the assumption he had made before he entered into the teleporter, "Prior to ze arrival, I have made assumptions zat we will stop at ze nearest period of time with technology zat is remotely close to ze ones we ourselves have used — such as ze teleporter that Ze Engineer and I, had built."

Engineer continued for him, "And since 2080 is the closest year to 1968 that features teleportation technology..." He said, "... Then we were bound to end up here — no matter what."

Medic nodded at his quick understanding of how the prototype teleporter worked.

"But..." Engineer sighed, "It- it just doesn't make sense. How could your teleporter have possibly interfered with how our's worked?"

Tracer shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, mate — I don't know."

"Se relachèr, Dell." Spy suddenly spoke up, preparing to light his cigarette, "It's better if we don't complain, for we have come for the boy that we have been searching for."

"Umm, who's that supposed to be, sir?" Tracer asked, a glare forming on her face, naturally getting closer to Scout as she did so.

"Why, Madame — The individual, is none other than Scout, who is beside you as we speak." Spy answered.

Her worst fears were being confirmed right in front of her.

They came to take Scout away from her.

She gulped as her face considerably paled at the bad news.

"Oh! Wait, who sent you guys?" Scout suddenly asked.

"Big boss woman." Heavy answered.

"That old hag?" He asked again.

"Yes, Scout. Your boss." Miss Pauling added.

"As much as we hate to admit it, c'est triste — we need you in the battlefields. BLU has a pristine advantage over us with the loss of our firepower, namely you, Scout." The spy said, "We are at a higher chance of losing without the numbers provided, boy. That's why The Administrator tasked us with finding the missing colleague, which all finger's point to you, as being the culprit."

"Oh..." Scout looked at Tracer and felt guilt rushing up his bowels once he saw her eyes.

She was doing a horrible job at containing her sadness at the moment — no smile visible. She mouthed out the words, 'Your promise.', to him as she stared at him.

Scout really wanted to maintain his time with Tracer, he loved her.

No shit.

But how would his teammates react upon knowing this new information? That, Scout, didn't want to go back to his job because of a woman that he truly loved?

... but what could they do about it?

Quickly, Scout came up with a question that would stall his decision even more.

"I think we're plannin' too far ahead, we don't even have a way of gettin' back to where we came from." He said, forgetting about the information that Tracer had given him last night.

Tracer was about to say otherwise, but held it back in at the last second.

The Engineer rubbed his chin, "Hmm... the boy's right. We don't have a way to get back... unless..."

He looked at Tracer with a hopeful face, "'Scuse me, ma'am. But Y'all wouldn't happen to mind if we use your teleporter to get back to where us folk came from... do ya?" He asked.

Tracer pursed her lips and was in an even more saddened mood by the crushing reality of it...

Scout had to go back with them — away from her.

She could've easily rejected the pleads of Scout's colleagues, but she remembered that damn promise she made to him, just yesterday night, a way to get back to where he came from.

Tracer kicked herself mentally.

This was what her promise got her, and she had to go through with it because she was doing this for Scout.

Mercenaries don't do anything for free.

Tracer answered his question with regret, "Uhm... it's not gonna be my choice, or, my say if you lot can use our teleporter. The choice is actually gonna be up to my superior whether he allows it or not."

"What's our chances lookin' like so far?" Engineer asked.

"I have no idea, love. Sorry." Tracer said.

She glanced over '35', and even though she couldn't see through that helmet of her's, she could just tell that the woman was utterly confused.

'Why is Tracer giving out classified information to a bunch of random's?' Was probably what she was thinking.

This was all because of that promise that she made to Scout.

"Madame, is there a way that we can possibly contact this superior of your's?" Spy asked.

Again, she answered with regret, "Y-yeah... but I'll have to get his permission first before anything. Strict policies and all that..." She trailed off, regretting how much information was being given out to a squad of trained killers.

Spy noticed her goggles, "Your goggles, Madame. Do they have the potential for communications inside?"

"Bloody hell, how did he know?" Tracer thought.

"Indeed they do, mate. I can contact my superior right now, but do be patient, because I have to report what my squad and I had found, and relay it back to base." She said.

"But of course, information is power. Understandable." The spy said, "And you also mentioned you have a squad... how large?"

"Three." Tracer lied.

Spy narrowed his eyes, seeing through her lie as he knew that there were more than what she had mentioned. He was about to comment on it until she followed it up with another sentence.

"But seven, if they come out of hiding." Tracer added.

Instinctively, Miss Pauling readied her pistol, as well as Engineer with his shotgun.

A rustle up in the trees was suddenly heard.

"I don't like being watched. Can you tell them to come out so we have no nasty surprises?" Engineer asked.

Suddenly, a thin man in an all-black combat wear dropped down from a tree up above, landing softly because of the glider that was attached to his back. His glider popped back smoothly inside of his suit once he landed.

One of his shoulder pads had the number '99' on it, and a weapon that looked similar to a sniper rifle was on his back.

"Way to make an entrance, '99'." Number '35' complimented.

The man known as '99' looked towards his colleague, "Thanks," He then looked towards The Engineer, "I heard everything you said, sir. But can we ask you a favour as well?"

The Engineer was taken aback by how soft he had landed, and how brash his entrance was, unable to fully cope with how sudden his askings were. The weird 'glider' that emerged from the man's back also had him in more confusion, only seeing a parachute as a possible comparison to the new technology.

"What is this favour that you ask of him, monsieur?" Spy asked for The Engineer.

"Since we're gonna come outta hiding, I think it's fair the rest of you come out too... namely the dude in that grey building." He pointed, "Saw him peakin' through that broken window over there with my rifle. So is there any way you can signal him to come out?"

Scout gasped, "No way! Grumpy Mundy's here too?!" A very well-thought nickname that he had improvised on the spot for The Sniper.

Tracer nudged Scout, "Who's that?"

"Ah! He's a sniper of ours! He's the funniest friggin' guy to annoy on a Friday!" Scout chuckled at the memories.

"Really? On a Friday?" She raised her brows, "Do you have specific days on when to annoy your mates?"

"Oh, lady, you have no idea." The Engineer said with disappointment, earning a smug grin from Scout.

The Engineer agreed on the man's favour, "Anyways, our man is hiding behind a window... I'll get him and notify that we won't have any problems with y'all."

"Agreed. All lovie-dubbie for now." Tracer added.

Suddenly, another member of Tracer's squad emerged from hiding, this time, from the root of the same tree that the slim man had gone down from.

There were 2 of them — 1 woman, and 1 man.

The Pyro became increasingly cautious with each member that came out of hiding.

The woman was equipped with a pistol. She had blonde hair and had a yellow and white coloured cross on one of her shoulder pads, the other had the number '200' on it.

She looked on confusingly at Tracer as soon as she finished looking over the crowd of new individuals.

In front of her was a man that had a beard with a very formal appearance in terms of combat. Fully suited with tactical equipment and an assault rifle that was far ahead of the 1960's technology... Mann. Co didn't even have any AR's, and the industry was considered ahead of its time.

Pfft.

On his shoulder pad was the number '30'. He walked sternly with a straight posture, nodding to each one of the new individuals that Tracer had run into.

"Mercenaries, eh?" He asked. His eyes wandered over the one with a gas mask, contemplating on whether to question if it was a person or not.

He saved it for another time.

"Ja, herr. Soldiers of war, I assume?" Medic asked.

"Ehh... sort of. You guys are from the 1960's, so you wouldn't know jack about the organization that we represent."

"Can you brief us in on it?" Miss Pauling asked.

The man looked at Tracer for her approval.

She nodded, "Go for it. No harm in sharing some general info." She said.

"Alright... we represent an organization named 'Overwatch'. The sole reason why Overwatch exists is to watch over, and maintain global peace worldwide — From the far west to the far east, anywhere."

"Impossible." Spy commented, "Worldwide peace is nothing but a figment of the imagination."

"To you, maybe. But to us, it can be achieved." The lady with the number '200' on her shoulder pad said.

Spy smirked, "... I would object, but your belief is far from deterring its path."

Miss Pauling excused their conversation to ask more questions about Overwatch, "Mind them, sir. So, 'Overwatch' is basically playing the role of... of a peacekeeper?" She assumed.

"Yep. Though we had a fall from glory in recent times, our intentions still remain the same, we're just operating under a less-known radar for now. Does that answer your question, lady?" He asked.

"Crystal clear. Thanks." Miss Pauling said.

"What caused fall from glory?" Heavy asked.

Tracer frowned as his question triggered an unfortunate memory to pop up in her mind.

"Ehh... Don't wanna get into it too much, but let's just say one of our covert missions got blown to shit when the people tasked with it went AWOL, and soon, the whole world found out about it, linked it to Overwatch, then..." The man shrugged, "Here we are now. Under the radar." He finished.

"Was it murder?" Heavy asked.

"Basically." He answered.

Miss Pauling found it confusing how a worldwide 'peace' organization could still be operating under the radar... how did they get their recognition for the good deeds that they did?

"Sir?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"How do you get recognition for the good deeds that you do if you all work 'under the radar'?" Miss Pauling asked.

The question had him stumped.

It was a very good question.

"Hmm... good question... since we're basically forbidden from operating under the public eye, we make most of our recognition off of the little things like, leaving our symbol nearby the area of action, and notifying the victims that it was the members of Overwatch that helped them in their time of need. We're steadily growing, though. Our numbers are getting up there, we're just waiting for the moment we can come out of hiding, and get back to helping the world without fear of being prosecuted... just like we used to do back in the days." Number '30' said.

"That was a beautiful explanation, '30'." Tracer sobbed a fake tear, giving her colleague a small applaud.

"I second that." Number '99' added, applauding as well, which was shortly followed up by the blonde-haired woman's applauds.

While The Engineer was signaling the green light for The Sniper to come out of hiding, Spy ceased the opportunity to ask Scout about Tracer.

There were many things that he wanted to ask about. So much.

But not yet.

However, he did have knowledge that there was indeed, a relationship already formed between them, but just like the other questions he wanted to ask — not yet.

"Excuse me, Madame?"

"Hi... oh, I didn't get your name earlier... mind if I get it?" Tracer asked.

"Very well. You may refer to me as 'Spy', for incognito reasons that I must keep to myself."

Tracer nodded, "I can roll with that. So what were you saying, Mister 'Spy'?"

"How did Scout manage to come into contact with you?" He asked, "And how long has it been since you have made first encounters with the boy?"

There were a lot of parts that Tracer did not want to mention to them about her encounter with Scout, and their recent time spent together.

So she tried her best to muster up everything she remembered, only cutting off the parts where there was obvious affection/romance shared between them.

She started, "Hmm... not exactly him coming into contact with me, but rather me coming into contact with him — the other way around of what your question was," Tracer said, "My superior notified me of some weird energy spike at this exact area, he sent me to check it out, so I did, went inside the building, and blimey I was absolutely shocked when I saw a person just... knocked out on the floor!" She exclaimed, "Now my initial reactions were to report my findings to my superior, but I guess I forgot about it when I..."

She held back a giggle when she remembered the exact reason for not reporting into Winston.

His long socks.

Tracer let out a short giggle, "Hehe... I guess I just forgot about it," She lied, "I opted to wake him up shortly after seeing him, but he wouldn't budge."

"Sounds right. Scout is heavy sleeper." Heavy commented.

"Nah I ain't, that's Demo your talkin' about." Scout quickly rejected.

"Continuing on, I woke him up eventually-"

"You slapped the crap outta me, thanks." He interrupted.

Both Miss Pauling and Spy chuckled at his interruption.

She rolled her eyes, "... Sorry," She apologized with a sarcastic tone, "I introduced him to his surroundings..."

She didn't want to mention the part where she almost left him.

"... I just sorta had him tag along with me until then."

She decided not to mention the part where Scout saved her from Talon's agents.

"Brought him to base after reporting him into my superior, and yeah... that's a quick summary of what happened recently."

She giggled nervously, a faint blush taking place on her cheeks.

Scout rolled his eyes and let out a short chuckle himself, obviously knowing something that Tracer didn't want the others to know.

That caught Miss Pauling's attention, causing a worried frown to come over her face.

The Spy could tell that Tracer left out some potentially explicit parts of her story, but found her answer suitable enough.

He would ask Scout about it instead.

"And it has only been a day since you came into contact with him?" He asked.

"I'd say about two hours from now, but yeah, love. Basically." She answered.

Suddenly, a shocked Aussie voice entered the air.

"BLOODY HELL! IS THAT SCOUT OVER THERE?" A man yelled.

Tracer looked to see where the voice was coming from, and was surprised that she saw yet another individual in red clothing.

"IN THE FLESH, BROTHA'!" Scout yelled, waving back at his Australian colleague.

Scout nudged Tracer, whispering to get her attention, "Ay, see that skinny stick with the one dollar shades on his face?"

"You're pretty skinny yourself, love." She whispered back.

"Not the point... anyways, that's 'grumpy Mundy' over there," He pointed, "Tall, frickin' camper that likes watching other people on that damn scope of his. He's just like Spy, but less frenchie!"

"Imbecile." Spy shook his head at the comparison.

Again, Spy wondered how foolish, knuckle-headed Scout, managed to get a fine damsel such as Tracer, to fall for him.

It didn't make sense to him whatsoever, but he was still proud of him.

'Grumpy Mundy', or, 'The Sniper', as he was referred to by his fellow mercenaries, continued walking closer towards the group, holding his rifle by his waist.

"I'm gonna be honest with ya, I didn't think we'd find you so quickly." He finally said to Scout, eyeing the new individuals with a steady eye.

"Ain't none of us did, Mundy. You're not alone on that one." Engineer commented.

"Alright, so now that we have no spooky surprises on each side, I think we can properly talk with no fear of an unfair fight... if that is to happen. Hopefully, it doesn't." Number '30' said.

"Right... so as I was saying," Engineer turned towards Tracer, "Do ya mind contacting your superior about some potential users for your teleporter?" He asked.

"Oh, right."

Tracer put the goggles over her eyes and adjusted her comms, tapping on Winston's contact name through the blue overlay screen of her goggles, which had a number of contacts she could communicate with.

She waited for Winston to pick up, walking aimlessly as she did so.

Conversation seemed to arise between the 2 groups as Tracer waited for a voice to pick up on her line.

The Pyro took a seat and observed the new individuals with a watchful... eye?

Whatever it had behind those black sockets, it went on to observe them.

The Sniper, Heavy, Medic, and Engineer made conversation with the soldiers of Overwatch, various questions on their mind about what the future was like.

Miss Pauling on the other hand, wanted to talk with Scout about something... anything, but based on how rude he's been to her so far, it gave the impression that he didn't feel the same way about her anymore... clearly moving on from how neglectful she's been towards him.

Still, she tried.

No one could fault her for trying.

Miss Pauling got closer to him, but not too close to the point where it was considered obvious... about 2 arm's length away from him.

"Scout?" Miss Pauling called his name out.

He raised an unimpressed eye at her, crossing his arms slightly.

He didn't hate her... 'Hate' was a strong word — he just disliked her.

"What?"

His eyes glared over her green ones, and as much as he tried forgetting how much he used to love those eyes, he failed.

He gulped as his mouth was left slightly open at the exotic colour of her stare.

And her glasses...

With no clear question in mind, Miss Pauling made one up on the spot, "So... are you okay? Did anything bad happen to you while you were here?" She scanned his body for any scars... her tone was full of concern...

Both of which were a rarity when it came to him.

And when she did scan his body, she almost forgot how toned his arms were... and his red shirt seemed to be a little too short on him, as it revealed a small portion of his lower abs...

Wow...

Miss Pauling's heart jumped when she saw the hard skin of his stomach in the flesh, making her breath hitch for a quick millisecond.

It was so toned, hard, and right for a woman's eyes and hands, to just linger over... god, she missed seeing him on the daily.

But she couldn't keep her eyes on it for long, refusing to make the situation awkward by just deciding to stare at his lower pecks. So, quickly, she looked away, trying desperately to find a body part of him that didn't cause blood flow to a woman's cheeks.

... Damn...

There wasn't a lot of places, except for his shoes, and his hat.

But foolishly, she started to stare at his eyes, which weren't pointed at her just yet.

While Miss Pauling was deciding on where to have her eyes land for the least amount of blood to rush to her cheeks, he was utterly surprised by the fondness she had in her voice.

Scout's stance became more relaxed as his eyes were no longer glaring at her's, but staring...

Miss Pauling had to try so hard to match his stare. His light blue eyes were proving to be difficult to not be flustered by.

Her stubborn hormones betrayed her, as she felt a little blood rush directed to her cheeks...

He shrugged at her questions, "Heh... You know me... nothing bad happens to me unless I die... and am I dead?"

Miss Pauling's eyes averted his eyes and stared at his lips instead. She smiled nervously at his wittiness that was so natural to his speech, and the way he used it so effortlessly.

She missed that.

Scout tried to deny a smile from forming on his face, but a little tug from the corner of his lips erased his resistance.

He did not like the reason behind his smile.

She fondled the tips of her hair with a twiddle of her finger, "Well, clearly you're not, because here you are, alive and still 'kicking' as they say..." She sighed relaxingly, "I'm just... in complete disbelief of how fast we found you."

Scout nodded and looked back a Tracer, who seemed to have been caught staring at him, though he wasn't sure... but he wouldn't be surprised if she was staring, considering how clingy she was.

Quickly, a question popped up in his mind, a question that he wanted her to answer.

"Yeah, me too- Hey, I got a question for you, Miss Pauling."

"Thank god he still remembers my name." She thought, "Go ahead." She said.

"Did that old hag tell you to come with my boys on this trip, or did you just decide to tag along?" He asked, "I hope you's gonna tell the truth too. Ain't no need to lie since you're already here."

"I went on my own free will, Scout."

"Why?" He asked confusingly, "No disrespect, but you ain't exactly fitted for fighting..."

He let his eyes scan over her body for the first time since forever.

Her curves were still there, popping through her blouse in all the right places for a man's viewing pleasure... her cute height allowed him an easy look of her cleavage behind her white-rimmed shirt...

And a sequence of foreign temptations of his made its way back into his mind, wanting to see her from behind...

bent over a desk...

clothes off...

her ass against a certain part of his body...

wanting to hear her sweet moans...

wanting to see the look on her face as he gave it to her...

wanting to put himself inside of her walls...

wanting to give it to her until she came...

wanting to see her without the glasses...

wanting to give an infinite amount of love towards—

Scout shook all the thoughts away, hating himself for such triggering fantasies.

He continued talking as he finished the quick look over of her attire, "... I mean, you never was fitted for fighting, cause you're basically a lawyer, and them people don't do much fighting."

"I'm not a lawyer, Scout. I'm the person that cleans up after your messes so you don't go to jail, and I don't always go into situations thinking that there may be a battle ahead, I'm not a mercenary, Scout. If I was, then you'd probably see me with much more in my hand then this flimsy pistol." She said.

"Okay, sure. But why?" He asked again.

She made up a lie on the spot, covering up the real reason why she went, "You can't tell The Administrator... but I just went so I could skip out on those damn papers... and it's a trip to the future. Who wouldn't wanna go?"

Lies.

The real reason why she came along, was because it was Scout.

She wanted him, and the least she could do to show that she wanted him, was for her to do something that proved that she did not neglect his existence — a terrible mistake she had done in the past.

Again, Scout's natural charm came into play, unable to prevent it from coming out.

He raised a brow and chuckled, "So you took a trip to the future, just so you could skip out on doing paperwork... that don't sound too bad, Miss Pauling."

She giggled back at him, exposing her beautiful smile back to Scout, "Glad you agree, Scout. And thank god I was lucky enough to get permission from The Administrator."

"Woah, that hag had no problem with it?"

"No... why do you keep referring to 'The Administrator' as a hag?"

"Been callin' her that ever since she booked me for doing something that I ain't shoulda done..." A disappointed sigh came out of Scout's mouth when the memory played back in his head, "... I think you know what I'm talking about."

And indeed, Miss Pauling did know what he was talking about.

She shouldn't have allowed him to do it, him and his stupidly boyish deed-doing, all for her affection — which she didn't even reward him with after he had gone through the trouble to do so...

Christ, did she even say sorry after it happened to him?

She shifted uncomfortably in her position, "I'm... I'm sorry that it happened to you."

Scout was caught off guard by how genuine her tone was, unsure of whether to hate her for how... quickly she switched her attitude towards him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, not at all trying to put her down anymore, "Too late for sayin' 'sorry' now, Miss Pauling. Happened a long time ago, probably better if we both just act like it never happened."

"R-right..."

Miss Pauling sneaked a look at Scout's eyes to see him staring back, but quickly looking away as soon as she caught his stare.

Scout let out a quiet curse as he looked away, his eyes momentarily betraying him...

"Ima go talk with my guys now," Scout said quickly, making sure that she could hear him instead of just walking away.

"Yeah, I'll do that, but with this new group instead." Miss Pauling replied.

Scout nodded and walked closer towards his fellow mercenaries, trying hard not to look back at her.

During the conversation, Tracer looked on with an observant (Jealous) eye from a distance as she waited for her comms to get life from Winston's end. She couldn't care if they were talking about pyramids in Egypt or the moon being red-

She did not want to see him talking to her...

And despite the many times that Scout promised that he wouldn't leave her, she still couldn't fully believe him because of how paranoid she was about their relationship.

Clingy problems.

But she wasn't the only one that was observing the two employees, there was also Spy who kept a watchful eye on them, specifically Scout.

When Scout was of distance for a discreet conversation, Spy quickly walked up to him and began scolding him.

"Sacrè bleu, Jeremy! I thought you were finished with wooing Madame Pauling!" Spy whispered frustratingly.

Scout glared at him, giving him a slight push, "Relax, Frenchie. I ain't even going after her anymore."

Spy got closer to him, determined to deter any more attempts at romance with Miss Pauling from his mind, "I saw the working of your eyes you imbecile." He said, referring to how his eyes were examining over her body, "The way you went over her body with a sense of hunger inside... the senseless lust that will get you nowhere once again!"

Scout scoffed, "Just shut up. I already got over her, and it ain't gonna happen again." He pushed him again, slightly harder this time.

Spy adjusted his tie, walked up to Scout and gripped him by the collar of his t-shirt, "Do not deny yourself advice that will better you, incompetent fool!"

Spy was doing all of this to make sure Scout would maintain his relationship with Tracer. He cared for him, as wrong as it sounded...

"You wanna fuckin' fight?!" Scout grabbed his gloved hands and tried to rip them away from the grip it had on his shirt, but the grip wouldn't budge.

The Pyro stared on with a muffled groan, obviously seeing this happen more than a few times. It made no effort in trying to stop the scuffle from happening.

"Woah, woah! What's going on with those two?!" Number '99' said, notifying both his group and the mercenaries of the scuffle.

"Hah! That's Spy and Scout for ya, they ain't ever been right with each other." Engineer commented, still in disbelief that Spy was treating his son with so much atrocity.

"What happened?" Miss Pauling asked alarmingly, looking to see what was going down.

Just another scuffle between Spy and Scout — the usual.

She sighed, "Why are those two always fighting with each other?"

"Bad chemistry." Number '30' commented.

"Is bad, I will go break fight up when blood leaks." Heavy said, continuing to observe the scuffle.

Number '200' was slightly disgusted by The Heavy's choice of words, "You'll stop the fight once you see blood?!" She asked in disbelief.

Heavy nodded.

"THAT'S RIDICULOUS! STOP THEM!" She yelled, unable to believe how teammates could watch each other fight until blood was spilled.

Pacifist-oriented individuals like herself would obviously be disgusted by such behaviour.

But, lovers reacted differently...

Tracer gasped alarmingly as she turned around, "Oi! What is he doing with Scout?!"

Her heartbeat started to accelerate when she saw that Scout was in potential danger from his own teammate.

"SOMEONE BREAK IT UP!" Tracer yelled, close to doing it herself.

Spy instantly relaxed when he had heard Tracer's alarmed cry.

He let his hands off of Scout's shirt, "My apologies." He dusted off his body, "The boy is just so glad to see me." He lied.

"That's not how teammates are supposed to act with each other." Number '200' commented with disapproval.

"Val, trust me. This is how we get down with each other when friggin' frenchies think they're tough." Scout glared at Spy.

Tracer sighed relaxingly, "Can someone please separate them. I don't wanna see anyone getting hurt." She kept a watchful stare under the two.

"I assure you it will not happen again, Madame." Spy lied.

"I'll rip your face off if you try that shit again, snake." Scout raised a threatening fist at him, but was unable to garner the reaction he wanted out of it.

Spy smirked at the onlookers, "See? Pure excitement."

"I'm guessing they ain't the best of friends, huh?" Number '35' asked.

Sniper shook his head with a chuckle.

"Completely the opposite, Madame. I don't know what you are talking about." Spy answered with complete sarcasm.

"Fuck you, Spy." Scout gave him the finger, walking away from him.

Suddenly, Tracer's comms static'd, and a deep, burly voice made its way into her ear.

"Lena, what did you and your squad find?" Winston answered.

"Something very odd, Winston ol' buddy."

"Let's hear it."

"Okay... hold on to your bananas, Winston, cause this might blow you away..." She took a breath before speaking.

The ape waited anxiously for what Tracer found at the energy-ridden site.

"... It's a bunch of people from the sixties... not the recent one either. The 1960's." She revealed.

Winston finished whatever banana pieces that were left in his mouth with quick succession, in disbelief of how unusual her findings were.

"Pardon my doubts, but I don't believe you."

"I'm serious, love!" Tracer did a quick head count of the new individuals, "One, two, three... seven. There's seven of them, and I'm not even sure if their all human," She said, referring to the chronic-masked mercenary that was sitting... playing in the grass.

Val took notice of it as well, finding... whatever it was, a cute little thing, despite its intimidating appearance.

"Weird stuff, am I right?" She asked Winston.

"Indeed it is... give me some time to think, Lena. I'll be back... what the-?"

The ape gasped and let out a worried mutter, "Oh no..."

"What happened, Winston? A huge brain cramp?" Tracer giggled.

"No... no! There's a Talon dropship heading for your position!"

The breath seemed to leave Tracer's lungs at the sudden information.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, "WHAT?!"

Scout took notice of the sudden shift of her mood, "You okay, Trace-"

"SHH!" She held her index finger in Scout's direction, urging him to stay quiet.

Winston continued to speak, "Get your squad ready, Lena! I'm sending support in right now!"

"But we have a pilot that's waiting for us-"

"I'm still sending them in!" Winston interrupted.

Quickly, her teammates and Scout's teammates took notice of how alarmed Tracer was.

"What do we do about the people we found?!" She asked alarmingly.

"PROTECT THEM! KEEP THEM AS PRIORITY... I have a feeling that Talon may want some of them as well."

A series of *boops* and *beeps* were heard in the background, both of the sounds which indicated the request of backup to a specific location.

Tracer's location, to be specific.

"I sent backup, and a pickup to your position right now in case things are to go awry. ETA 10 to 15 minutes. Get out of there as quickly as possible, and if you must, then find a place that's suitable for a standoff and... do your best to hold them off, Lena. Notify your squad immediately, and if those people can fight, give them a weapon and have them protect themselves until backup arrives. Understand?"

She nodded, "Got it."

"Alright, keep you, your squad and those people alive. Support's coming."

Winston disconnected.

Tracer gulped and lifted the goggles off her eyes.

"What happened?" Scout asked.

"We got tango's coming..." She looked up at the skies, unable to spot any of Talon's black-marked dropships in the vicinity, "We have to get you lot to the safety of our Watchpoint, ASAP!"

Spy narrowed his eyes at how sudden things were going.

Could they trust them?

"Are zey enemies we can experiment on?" Medic asked, a dark grin coming over his face.

Tracer shuddered at his words, "... Enemies you don't wanna fight unless you really have to." She turned towards Number '30', "'30', call in the pilot for pickup, we're getting out of here."

"Affirmative." Number '30' tapped on the device mounted on his wrist, and suddenly, a voice came out from the other end.

"You guys need a pickup?" The voice asked.

"Yeah, at our location, just some clicks up ahead... near the building." Number '30' said to the device.

"On my way right now." The voice said.

The device on his wrist reduced to a faint glow, finally shutting down.

Miss Pauling tapped on Scout's shoulder, "What's happening?"

She hasn't touched him in the longest time, and even if it was only his shoulder, it still felt... exciting to her.

She wished she could touch him more.

Scout slightly turned around to face her, and as much as he wanted to rudely shoot her away, he couldn't.

As foolish as a decision it was for him, he met her eyes, answering her question, "Buncha punks are coming through, and we're getting a pickup back to where the rest of Tracer's buddies are."

"Where's that?" She asked.

'Stop talking to her, you numbnut! AND STOP STARING AT HER DAMN EYES!'

Scout blinked, realizing that he had been looking at her eyes for the longest time...

Her orbs of deep green had no mercy when it came to devouring his blue ones.

"Oh..." He shook his head to gather himself, and look at something else other than Miss Pauling's mesmerizing green eyes.

"... In the middle of an ocean... pretty cool view once ya get there." He answered.

He mentally whacked himself.

'Idiot. Stop talking to her!'

Miss Pauling nodded, "Got it." Her eyes went off of his, staring someplace else.

'Friggin' IDIOT! You don't LOVE her anymore! Ya love's meant for Tracer, you fuckin' shnook!' Scout's conscious was giving him a whipping of words for being so stupid.

Something... weird, was happening with Scout, and it consisted of loyalty towards Tracer, and thoughts about Miss Pauling...

Why was it so hard to stop liking her?

Why was it so hard to forget her?

"Oh shoot- Someone's gonna have to get Demoman off the floor!" Engineer said.

"Who's that?" Tracer muttered to herself.

He started to make his way back towards the entrance of the building, "Help is welcomed!" He called out without looking back.

"I will help Engineer." Heavy said, following his hard-hatted colleague.

"I'll help too." Number '30' said, but before he could follow The Heavy, a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Mate, you don't gotta worry about carrying anyone when that big simpleton's on the case." The Sniper said.

"... If you say so." Number '30' replied.

He found the nearest cover there was, and began prepping himself in case there was a gunfight to be held. The same could be said with the rest of his squad members, excluding Tracer, who was wondering why both Dell, and Heavy were going back to the building.

"Wait! Who are they going back for?!" Tracer asked.

"Another mercenary, Madame." Spy answered, "It is unfortunate we are missing one of them. Lost in the thick forest, I assume." He said, referring to The Soldier.

"What the- I was just about to ask that. Where the hell's 'Flag for brains' at?" Scout asked.

"It is unknown where ze American is, Jeremy. Hopefully, his usual screams about silly 'patriotism' will be enough to lead us to his whereabouts, but other zen that... we are in ze mist when it comes to finding him." Medic said.

"That sucks on ice. We gotta find him if he came along with you guys." Scout said.

Suddenly, The Heavy and The Engineer came back with the body of an unconscious Demoman in their arms, along with his pipe launcher and 1 bottle of his scrumpy, which was tucked inside Engineer's toolbelt. They laid him down on the grass.

"Did he arrive like that? Or is this recent?" Number '200' asked.

"Believe it or not, he traveled here off five bottles... or maybe it was four- hell, I dunno." Engineer answered uncertainly.

Scout chuckled, "Of course he's wasted. This frickin' Cyclops can't live without being dummie'd!"

Spy paid no mind to it, focusing on what Scout had said earlier, "If it was that simple, 'finding him if he came along with us'," He quoted Scout, "then believe me, Scout — we would have found him by now." He said, "But arrèt. We do not yet know if we can fully trust them, who are we to say if those tango's are good individuals as well?" He asked.

Tracer groaned, "Spy, I assure you we mean no harm to your people, and if you wanna stay here and fight them, then you'd be making a huge mistake, believe me."

"This ain't the time to be an untrusting bastard, Frenchie. You can trust 'em!" Scout said.

"They haven't shot at us so far, Spy. And we didn't shoot at them, and if their fine by having Scout tag along with them, of everyone — then we should have no problems with them as well." The engineer said, "Is that the case, Lena?"

She nodded, "Your mate's right, Spy. We have no intentions of harm, but we have to have your trust right now if we wanna avoid a firefight with some blokes that cause nothing but terrorism and fear." She warned.

"On one condition." Spy held up a finger.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Will you guarantee the use of your organization's teleporter?"

"It's unstable. The effects can be lethal if used when it's in that state, and it can't be up to me, love, I'm sorry!"

"We should just tag along with 'em, Spy! We got nowhere else to go! And their our best shot at getting home so far!" Engineer said.

Spy quickly thought about what The Engineer had told him and realized that he was right.

They had no leads on where to actually find a working teleporter in the future, other than 'Overwatch' itself, and that teleporter had potential to be their ticket back to the 1960's if their superior would authorize it.

And who else was willing to take in eight random individuals from the 1960's?

Only a few.

It was the best choice of plan in the current situation.

"... oui. Proceed then." Spy agreed, pulling his pack out, lighting himself a quick cigarette.

"Mind if I borrow one, mister?" Number '30' asked, pulling up his lighter as he positioned himself near a rock, "Got my own one if you don't wanna go through the trouble."

Spy nodded and flicked an unlit cigar towards him, "Enjoy."

He caught it out the air, giving him a nod of approval as he lit himself a cancer stick.

"Our ride should be coming soon... I think we have enough space for all of you... might have to share seats, but I'm sure none of you will mind." Tracer said, "I'm sure I won't." She mumbled quietly enough for Scout to hear, giving him a discreet nudge.

Miss Pauling wanted to get a seat as close to Scout as possible, for it had potential to possibly boost or maybe even create a bond that she had lacked towards him for the longest time.

It was unfortunate that Miss Pauling didn't know about the relationship that Scout already had with Tracer.

"Speak of the devil, it's here." Number '35' said, pointing at the sky.

"Bloody hell, what is that?" Sniper asked.

"Is airplane of some sort... but leetle." Heavy tried to explain.

"It's what we call a 'Dropship'. We got other variations of it, the one y'all are lookin' at right now, is the 'pickup' variation, which is basically just used for transport 'n all that cool stuff." Number '99' explained.

"That's fascinating, that little thing there... wonder how y'all made that." Engineer complimented, appreciative of the obvious skills that were used to build such technology.

The device on Number '30's wrist glowed once again.

"Clear the L-Z! We have to get out of here now! I can see Talon from the north!" The pilot yelled frantically.

"Got it." Number '30' stood up, "Spread out! We need a clearing zone for our man!" He commanded.

Tracer went by a nearby tree, feeling the wind getting stronger, "Can you ask him how close they are?!" She yelled at Number '30'.

The pilot heard her, "VERY CLOSE, TRACER..." The press of a button was heard, "Landing now!"

The dropship descended from elevation at a steady pace.

The Spy noticed a black mark becoming bigger in the distance. He huffed, turned around and put a hand on Heavy's shoulder, as well as Medic's, "Men, get your weapons ready." He said as he pulled out his revolver.

"We are getting pick up, Spy." Heavy rejected.

Medic, on the other hand, listened to him, spotting something in the distance that told him of what was to come in a matter of seconds.

He gulped, "He is right, Mishka. Ze pilot may not survive what is approaching zis position." He urged The Heavy to turn around, pointing at a speeding aerial vehicle that was similar to the one that was about to land...

Heavy pointed at it as well, "WHAT IS BIG THING IN AIR?!" He yelled out.

His cries received the attention of everyone that was around him, and one by one, everyone noticed it.

Oh no.

"Oh for fuck sakes- it's Talon!" Number '35' yelled, aiming her heavy weaponry towards it, ready to fire once it came into effective shooting distance.

"GET TO COVER, GUYS!" Number '30' yelled.

"Yo, sniper dude! You mind taking some pot shots at that huge black box that's coming through?" Number '99' asked The Sniper, already finding a suitable spot to take shots at it with his weapon.

"I'm not wasting bullets unless I really have to, mate." The Sniper answered as he went near cover.

Number '99' shrugged at his answer, "Suit yourself." He said as he took a shot.

The rest of the group found the nearest cover and hunkered down, waiting for the pickup to land.

Number '30's wrist device glowed once again, a distressed voice soon following.

"THEY FUCKING LOCKED ONTO ME! I'M INITIATING LOCKDOWN MO-"

Two straight ripples were heard in the air, and before the mercenaries and the Overwatch soldiers knew it — their pickup was gone.

Blasted apart by whoever was operating Talon's devastating dropship.

The dropship was torn to shreds in a fiery end, making hellfire present in the sky above. It's materials rained from above, sharp pieces of fragments and shrapnel dropping below.

"NO! Damn it!" Tracer yelled, in utter disbelief at the destruction above her.

"Everyone focus fire on that damn ship! We're taking that shit down!" Number '99' yelled.

His teammates and most of the mercenaries (excluding Sniper and a still-unconscious Demoman) obliged, taking aim against the heavy-duty vehicle.

Miss Pauling hunkered nearby with The Pyro, doing what she could with her pistol as she fired her shots.

The Spy disappeared, no one took notice.

The Heavy started to rev up his minigun, and The Medic followed his colleague's footsteps, careful to avoid the falling shrapnel from the sky.

The Engineer quickly dragged Demoman's unconscious body away from the open fields, and into some cover along with him.

"Ah crap!" Scout dodged the incoming shrapnel from the ship, running towards Tracer.

"Tracer! What do we do?! They just blew our ride out the sky!"

"PRETTY BLOODY OBVIOUS, LOVE! THANKS FOR NOTICING." Tracer bit her lip at the distress she was experiencing, "Scout, please tell me they know how to fight." She pointed at his teammates, and as rhetorical as it was to ask, she wasn't in the proper state of mind with how sudden things were developing.

Scout scoffed, "Pfft! Are ya kiddin'?! We kill people every day! That's our job, sweet cheeks! Say no more!" He said excitingly, cocking the trigger of his scattergun.

"Great! We're gonna 'ave to shoot some blokes soon! Tell the same to your peers too!" Tracer said, whipping out her pulse pistols in the blink of an eye (via her wrist-holsters).

Scout found her mannerism too cute to just ignore.

"You are so friggin' sexy when you pull ya pistols out like that." He complimented with a whisper, "It would be ten times as sexy if you winked every time you did it."

His compliments truly had no bounds.

"Oh my goodness- Now's not the time, love! Their landing!" She pointed at the huge night-coloured vehicle nervously.

Sudden shots rang into the air from everyone that had a weapon in their hands, Number '35' especially, with her never-ending clip of bullets.

The Pyro pulled out its flare gun and took aim against the vehicle, firing its flare at it, but unable to have much of an effect. It let out a muffled groan at how disappointing the result of the shot was.

"Ugh. This pistols not going to do anything significant to that... thing." Miss Pauling said. She contemplated on whether or not to keep shooting with her pistol or to save her shots for when it would actually matter.

The Heavy had the same result as well with his many bullets, failing to garner a reaction from the ship's material.

"Bullets aren't doing jack against it!" Number '99' yelled.

"Heavy Weapons is not keeling ship!" Heavy yelled frustratingly, going back into cover.

"I'm preparing ze Übercharge now!" Medic notified, which Heavy nodded to.

Suddenly, the dropship hovered over the grey building, it's doors opened...

And out came it's troops.

Red and white plates of coloured armour began dropping onto the roof one by one, the countless amount of deployment ropes leaked from the dropship's doors, from both sides.

"Scout?" Tracer looked at him, "We got some blokes to put down, whaddya say to that?"

He looked at the troops that were pouring down from the dropship, "Their as good as dead... wait," He squinted his eyes to focus on one figure that stood out from the rest of the grunts, him and his superior vision.

The figure was in all black, and had dark stuff emanating around its frame...

Tracer squinted her eyes as well, failing to see what Scout was seeing, "Are you spooked, love? It's just a buncha grunts!"

He squinted his eyes harder...

"No it's not... do grunts have frickin' shadows flying off of them?" He asked.

Tracer's heart dropped at his words, her blood turning ice-cold at how familiar the description was to her.

"Oh no..." Her fears were confirmed to be true when another one examined just who was standing menacingly at the dropship's deployment doors.

"Good god, that's Reaper!" Number '30' yelled.

"I'm guessing that's not good." Sniper commented.

"It's fucking BAD!" Number '35' yelled, blasting another full clip of bullets at the dropship above the roof.

Through the sounds of bullets ringing in the air, and the terrified words coming out of the mouths of Tracer's colleagues, a cold, dreadful voice made its presence known.

"Death comes..."

The shadowy figure disappeared in a haze of black fog, the outline of its shotguns carving crimson red upon the air.

Tracer seemed to be frozen in place for a bit, until Scout put a relaxing hand on her shoulder, shaking her out of it.

"Relax! It'll be just like last time, Tracer. We're gonna end up kicking his ass! And those other dudes too!" Scout chirped out with positivity.

Her face paled at the sight of two more dropship's making its way onto the battlefield.

"I just hope the cavalry's coming soon," She muttered softly.

"... We're gonna need it." She added with a worried look.

The forces of Talon surrounded the roof of the grey building. Their leader spawned in from the peripherals of their clouded vision, pointing death at the mercenaries and Overwatch alike.

"Kill them... and their companions..." A dead voice yelled.

The voice was enough to put The Pyro in a slight state of nervousness...

Only slightly.

The newly met groups would have to fight together to get out of this one...

Of course, no one had to tell them, since both sides were familiar with teamwork and combat...

---

Wrote a lot cause I owe it to you guys for making you wait so long.

Gonna be writing my first 'official' combat-focused chapter will be written next, I guess. Idk how I'll do, but hopefully I won't do too bad.

I made Tracer's jealousy very obvious in this chapter when writing her dialogue, her thoughts and how she observed her lover from a distance when he interacted with Miss Pauling.

I made Miss Pauling's sense of regret a real thing when it came to this chapter, and emphasized how love is truly sacred, and shouldn't be rejected once it has found you... It's what I tried showing with Miss Pauling's emotions about Scout, and her sudden change of attitude towards him.

Love is a bitch.

I made Spy into the 'deadbeat dad that still looks out for their son, because I figured it would make sense with his character, and him being a 'woman-killer'. I tried showing this by having him be rejectful of any possible attempts that Scout might have made on casual flirting with Miss Pauling, wanting him instead, to maintain what he has with Tracer, instead of going back to another woman that didn't want him in the first place.

And in general, I had to write a lot of character dialogue because there were so much damn characters in this chapter! Didn't want any of my OC's to feel lack-luster, or any of the mercenaries to feel underused, so I tried splitting dialogue lines evenly with the characters and good lord, I had a buncha shit to write. That's why it took me so long to write this chapter (and my lack of hustle too).

And the 'Cat-Fights' will come when the time is right... after things settle down a bit with both of the groups, and the women have some time to properly talk with each other. Seriously, I'm really looking forward to writing dialogue between a clingy lover, and an intruder to the lover's relationship with the man... should be fun to write :)

Finally, we get to the 4 reasons my updates for this will begin to slow down, not in a specific order. (A LOT OF PERSONAL SHIT BELOW, SO IF YALL DONT WANT NUN OF IT, BE FREE TO CUT!)

It's gonna sound horrible, but I'm gonna be real with you guys — I'm actually losing my motivation for this story... I don't know why.

Maybe it might be the amount of words I feel that I have to write, in order to make each chapter proper for the story's continuation, or it just might be me naturally losing 'it' when it comes to this story...

There used to be a time (last year, wow time goes by quick) when I wanted to update this story every week with a new chapter, regardless of the support I got, because my imagination and my motivation was fucking thriving during those days.

But since then, I lost a lot of it... I don't know why, but that's just how it be.

But I'll still continue this regardless of how much motivation I lose.

Moving on...

I got a new job recently after quitting (Literally just left, lol) my old one. Wasn't making enough $, that was it. So my new job is giving bare shifts out to me, to which I can't complain about cause it's more guap for the shit I really wanna do, we'll get to that later. Job-time mixes in with story-time, and I guess you guys can figure out what it does with my updates.

Also, SCHOOL IS APPROACHING ME ONCE AGAIN, and fuck, I'm not ready for it. By senior year, ppl should have a plan for their life ahead, right?

Not me. Idk wtf I wanna do when it comes to professional jobs... I ain't even look into college and courses and all that shit, I really don't wanna, but I have to, and since I'm so fucking worried about it, it just puts me to sleep, and makes me wanna make every minute of my limited summer break count.

Lastly, and probably a very big reason why I won't be updating as much anymore, is because of this YouTube shit I'm going into.

I'm really trying to get into this YouTube shit, because it's basically recording what you wanna play for profit, and who doesn't wanna do that?

I want that shit badly.

And if you want it badly enough, you gon' get it. I want this YouTube career shit, and I want it as quickly as I can possibly get it. This leads me to dedicating my time to editing videos and shit for my viewers (If I even have any lmfaooo) to watch, and hopefully enjoy.

So yeah. Loss of motivation, Job, worries about what my future's gonna be like, and the beginning stage of a YouTube grind, is what's gonna slow the updates down on this story.

But I promise I will not abandon it. Never.

If you want, you can stop reading, cause it's just gonna be some info about my YouTube, but after it, is some more info about what I'm gonna be doing in general with this story...

With my YouTube, I'm making it a gaming channel obviously. So far, with my shitty budget, I'm making do with a fucking mic that records the audio of a PS4 running in the background (DOES NOT SOUND POLITE), basic video-editing software cause I ain't on that type of hardware yet, a basic ass laptop that shits itself every 30 minutes or so, and a commentary personality that's not really... professional?

Idk, I'm just gonna say my commentary's not that thrilling to hear over clips, might be due to the fact I live in a small ass house with a lot of people living inside of it. So I gotta keep my mouth shut a lot of the time.

Oh, and if you wanna hear how my voice sounds like for some odd reason, check out the videos on my YouTube, cause it's commentary... don't bully me too much about it :(

I'm uploading Skyrim clips and Overwatch clips (Skyrim mostly because it's decent to watch with a crappy budget like mine), but I have so much more games that I wanna record once I actually get the setup to do so, and to get the setup, I need the $$$. I really wanna be able to play games and record it for a living, or at least, for a long time, because it's fun to do. I don't like school, I don't like doing professional shit, cause it don't appeal to me.

Games and YouTube appeal to me. A lot. I want it.

And I don't wanna beg, but fuck... I'd seriously appreciate it if you guys could just help me reach that goal of mine by checking out my YouTube and possibly subscribing to it (ShizzySavage16).

BUT don't feel obliged to doing so, because I hate begging for the grind to become easier.

As time goes on, the quality of my vids will improve, my commentary is gonna become something decent (hopefully), and my setup gon' be A1 when I get the guap needed to make it A1.

So yeah, that's basically a life story on what I'm trying to do as of now. I'm still gonna update this story, it's just gonna come more slowly because of the 4 main reasons I mentioned earlier.

And a fair warning, this might be my last chapter for a while until I get in the 'mood' to write the next part. This doesn't mean I'm gonna stop writing completely, I might post a one-shot here and there... mix it up a bit, y'know?

But please, don't lose faith in this story, because I guarantee you I will never abandon this shit... too far in to do so anyways...

(I'll continue to leave smiley faces on every last line of my chapters until the last, dont no one copy me on this, foreal)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll be seeing you guys in the next chapter... whenever that comes, :) :) :)