Welcome! To Overwatch: A Dawg's Tale (REDUX)! TLDR; certain chapters are gonna be re-written for fun, I wanna see if I can do this better. Don't worry, I'm not deleting the old chapters, I'm just working with something new.
"Mrgh…Wha…wherami…"
Everything was dark.
"I..idon…wha…"
His head felt like it weighed nothing, yet was full of concrete.
"Rrgh…whatehel…"
Struggling to lift his head up, a young boy looked around the room he was currently confined in. There was nothing by pitch-blackness, wall-to-wall.
"I have a sack on my face. You idiot."
Well, that may be an issue as well, as the burlap sack was left covering his face completely, letting no light, and only a little bit of air in. He struggled, but felt his legs and arms tied down, his legs tied to the chair legs, and his arms tied behind his back. Thinking rationally, the boy tried rocking the chair back and forth, seeing if he could knock himself over… But someone clearly thought of that, and something was holding the chair down.
"Hm… he's resilient."
"Please tell me we're not trying to see if he can escape."
"No, that would be a waste of our time…"
The boy didn't know how long he was in the dark, but he decided to try and worm his arms free, but that wasn't working. If anything, there was something digging into his arms…
"Crap." The boy muttered, looking around… in total darkness. Finally, he heard… something, it sounded heavy and metallic, so either a door was opening, or someone was doing a terrible job at carrying something. Several loud THUNK… were heard, and the boy saw the smallest hint of light poking through his bag. The boy went quiet, thinking about how he was going to react… but then he heard low laughter, and a voice finally spoke.
"Death… walks among you."
"That's sus." The boy remarked indifferently.
"So, you're the one we've been looking for…" The voice spoke again.
"Uhhh… what?"
"You're not what I expected…"
"Sorry, what? I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong guy." The boy commented, trying to sound casual, even annoyed somewhat, in an attempt to cover his fear. "I'm just some kid."
"Still. If it's what need to be done, you'll give me what I want."
"…if you want like a slob job, that ain't gonna happen."
"You've got to be joking." The voice spoke, some of the mysterious edge gone, now replaced with annoyance.
"Eh, the only joke I hear is that voice! Seriously, smoking kills man!"
"That's not the only thing that kills…"
"Oh, dude. Do you practice those lines?!" The boy laughed. "Man… that is some primo edgelord-iness right there!"
"You talk about bravado and false identities, when you call yourself… Mad Dog." The voice replied, sounding more annoyed than anything. The boy also heard boots on the floor, meaning someone was in here with him.
"It's Mad Dawg, dumbass!" Mad Dawg remarked, sounding bored already. Suddenly, the bag was removed, and Mad Dawg blinked when he saw the man standing before him. He looked like a visage of death itself, a heavily armed grim reaper.
"…holy crap." Mad Dawg muttered, his eyes widening.
"You don't seem so confident now." The masked man said in a low growl. "Where's your bravado?"
"I dunno, where's your tailor? You look like you're going to an anime convention." Mad Dawg retorted, finding his voice.
Ch-chk
Mad Dawg's eyes widened, and he heard Reaper softly chuckle when a shotgun appeared and was put to his chin.
"Judging by your reaction, you know who I am." The man remarked coldly. "Then you should know what I could do to you."
"Yeah… The Reaper." Mad Dawg muttered. "Number Nine on the U.N.'s Most Wanted list, reported body count of nearly four hundred. Terrorist, killer, My Chemical Romance fan…"
"You seem to know a lot about me for someone who's supposedly just some kid."
"Nah, they have a deck of playing cards with all of you on em', you're the Ace of Clubs."
"…huh." Reaper seemed genuinely taken aback by that.
"Yeah, the cards showed you with a lot more straps and belts though, I think they printed them based on eyewitness accounts. But considering how many people you've killed, that wasn't many."
"Let me ask a different question. If I pull the trigger, what happens?" Reaper remarked coldly. "You think that this is all just some sort of videogame? Look around you. This is real. Every word you say has a consequence, so maybe think for once, before you speak."
Mad Dawg didn't speak, he looked into Reaper's face, then looked away. This… was hard to make a joke about. He didn't know what kind of shotgun Reaper was holding, but he knew that being shot by one HURT. Reaper, meanwhile, was looking Dawg over, and something finally dawned on him when he took a good long look at the boy's face.
"Hrgh… looks like our intel was wrong. You look like your thirteen." He muttered.
"I'm seventeen!"
Reaper slowly leaned forward, and Mad Dawg found himself staring directly into the mask… except, there was nothing behind it. A shiver ran down Dawg's spine as he fought to conceal it.
"Word of advice, kid." Reaper finally spoke. "If you're gonna lie about your age. Never claim to be two above or below what you really are. Anything beyond that is harder to believe."
"Cool. Can you let me go?"
"No." Reaper said flatly.
"Screw you!"
"Again. Think before you speak." Reaper remarked, aiming his gun once more, and Mad Dawg looked away, fear gripping him that time. "Here's the scary truth, kid." Reaper remarked, folding his arms and sounding threateningly casual. "You're not really a top priority for us… so I'm in no rush to get what I need. Frankly, there are many things I'd rather be doing right now- if you interrupt me, I'll rip your tongue out." Reaper suddenly stated, pointing to Dawg, who bit his tongue and kept quiet.
"That's better. As I was saying, there are many things I'd rather do than deal with… you. But since you're a low priority for us, I don't need to do anything for a while."
"That sounds good."
"It means I can leave you in here, in nothing but total darkness for as long as I want."
"That sounds bad."
"It sounds like your own mind tearing itself in two." Reaper continued, getting back up in Dawg's face. "Total isolation, no light, no sound, eventually you'd break… everyone does. You're not trained for that kinda thing, so who knows how long you'd last. A day? A month? A year?"
"Are you insane!? You can't keep me here for a freakin' month!" Mad Dawg exclaimed, jerking forward against the restraints.
"Why can't we?" Reaper asked, mostly sarcastically. "You're a ghost. If you died right here, right now, the world wouldn't notice."
"Th..they'll come looking for me."
"Who? From what we found, you have no immediate allies." Reaper replied.
"Yeah, what you found. There's more going on in the world then you-" Mad Dawg began, but was silenced when Reaper hit him with his gun. Mad Dawg snarled slightly, trying to think of a way out of this.
"Kid, all this ends if you give us what we want." Reaper stated. "Give us what we want, and we'll let you go."
"Fine. What do you want?"
"You're… different." Reaper remarked, suddenly pulling a knife out and putting it up to Dawg's eye.
"¿¡Qué demonios esta haciendo!?" A voice shouted in his comm. device, thankfully quiet enough that Dawg didn't hear it.
"If I stab your eye, what'll happen?"
"It'll hurt?" Dawg asked with a raised brow. He was… terrified. But he refused to show that. He refused to let Reaper? Was that this Edgelord's name? Or was it Infinite? Or maybe Dant-"AAAAH!" Dawg was ripped from his thoughts when Reaper pushed the blade into Dawg's left temple and pulled down, slicing a rather nasty cut on Dawg's face. Reaper waited and watched, genuinely unsure if this was the right person, or if he was torturing a child over nothing.
With a sound that Reaper couldn't put to words, the skin seemed to re-grow, repairing itself until there was no wound at all. "Well." He remarked. "If within a week or two you aren't giving us what we need, it's good to know we can hurt you… and you'll just fix yourself."
"It can't be…"
"What…what do you want from me?!"
"You know what we want." Reaper retorted.
"No! I don't! That's why I'm asking!" Mad Dawg shouted, all his defenses, jokes, and other tricks gone.
"Sure." Reaper remarked flatly. "We're done here." He picked up the bag and put it back over Dawg's head. "I'll be back to try again in a few days…"
If Mad Dawg said anything, it couldn't be heard due to the bag, but then the lights shut off, one after another with an audible THUNK each time. When the last light went out Mad Dawg sighed. This was gonna be a while, wasn't it?
"Hey!" He called to anyone who may be listening. "What do I do if I've gotta piss!?"
Mad Dawg had no idea how much time passed… He tired counting, listening to his heartbeat, tapping his foot… but nothing worked. Heck, a few timed they moved him around the room (he assumed, maybe he went to a new room) and then left without saying a word…
The door opened, and the lights turned on. Dawg braced himself for another attack… but he heard footsteps, and a voice humming. This was followed by scraping, most likely a chair being pulled over, and then someone sighed. The next thing he knew, a pair of hands were on the bag, rolling it up to his nose, but keeping his eyes covered.
"Abre, cariño." A woman's voice spoke, Dawg refused, when he felt something pressed against his mouth. He hesitated, then smelled it, it was… well, it was chili. He knew this could easily be drugged, and he'd be an idiot to eat it, but if he didn't he'd starve. "Abre."
Finally, Mad Dawg reluctantly did, and felt a spoon being forced into his mouth. The chili was hot, and the spices seemed to kick in after he swallowed, leaving his mouth burning. Just the way he liked it, actually.
"¿por qué me haces esto?" Mad Dawg spoke after a few moments of silence and chilli.
"Hablas español?" The woman asked, surprised as she scooped up another spoonful of food.
"Mequiero a ir casa."
"No. Me quiero ir a casa."
"Por favor déjame ir…"
"Eehh… eso es improbable…"
"Why!?" Mad Dawg exclaimed, speaking English briefly.
"Tengo que admitir que tu español es bastante Bueno." The woman remarked.
"Seriously!? What do you people want from me?!"
"Hey, hey, hey… it's okay, it's okay…" The woman spoke, suddenly dropping her native dialect and speaking English. "Listen, I know this is scary-"
"NO."
"Look, its good you have a sense of humor, but you'd better give them what they want."
"WHAT. Do you WANT!?"
"Oooh… that's not half bad, little guy. But I'd pray that you're a better actor than that, the others won't be so easily convinced." The woman remarked, laughing slightly afterwards. "Buenas noches, que sueñes con los angelitos. Te veo en la mañana, pequeño." She said, patting his cheek mockingly before pulling the bag back down and leaving the room. The lights shutting off, and leaving Mad Dawg in the darkness once more.
"Hello darkness my old friend… I've come to tell you to piss off again…"
Again, Dawg didn't know how long he was in here until the doors opened again and someone else walked in. Okay, this one was definitely a woman, he could hear heels hitting the floor as the newcomer walked into the room. A woman, or a very feminine man. Dawg wouldn't judge… if they weren't terrorists keeping him here against his will. The door closed, and the bag was removed. Mad Dawg blinked, looking up at a Smurf MI-
"Oh, that is wrong on so many levels! STOP!"
A woman whose skin was a blueish-hue, almost somewhat purple. She had a floor-length pony tail and seemed to study Mad Dawg for a few moments, clearly not seeing anything of interest to her.
"Qu'est-ce qu'ils voient en toi?"
"Baguette?"
"Tu n'es rien d'autre qu'un gosse de rue en fuite…"
"Hoh hoh?"
"Pourquoi ils ne me laisseront pas te tuer est au-delà de toute supposition de quiconque."
"C'est quoi ça?!"
"Oh. Vous ne me comprenez..."
"We're getting nowhere with this."
"No, even if you can't see it, I can… his defences are only so strong, there's a limit to his tenacity, and we're approaching it…"
"Dégage…"
"Attention à votre enfant langue, de peur que je l'ai enlevé..."
"Sérieusement? J'ai entendu cette menace deux fois maintenant!"
Mad Dawg whimpered as nails due into his throat. The woman's hand was cold, REALLY cold… She looked into his eyes and let out a soft, cruel chuckle at his pain.
"Si tu ne te comportes pas, je te laisse dans le noir."
"Je ne sais pas si tu essaies de me faire peur, mais ça ne marche pas." Mad Dawg struggled to get out.
"Oh, we've barely begun." The woman spoke, suddenly in English before putting the bag back over his head and slashing Dawg with… something along the arm before leaving, the world being swallowed in darkness once more. Mad Dawg groaned, waiting a few moments, then feeling blood on his arm.
Again, Mad Dawg didn't know how much time had passed, the author wasn't being lazy, shut up. But the out of the three visitors he had thus far, the one he wanted least returned at some point.
"Good news." Reaper spoke. "You're leaving this room. Bad news, things are about to get much worse." Mad Dawg was dragged to his feet and forced out of the room, cooler air hitting his face through the sack. Reaper pulled it off and Mad Dawg grunted at the sudden light, shaking his head as his long hair fell down.
"…so, I gotta ask, what's the health benefits like for being a terrorist? Like, are you guys and actual cooperation? Do you get paid based on each job, or is it a monthly thing? Do you get vacation days, or-"
"Shut up." Reaper ordered, hitting Dawg in the back of the head. "Keep walking."
"Fine, Raper. You don't have to be such an assh-" Mad Dawg began, but was it harder this time. Mad Dawg laughed as Reaper growled in agitation. "Hey, how long was I in there?"
"Three weeks."
"WHAT!?"
"Yeah, this morning you were in there for three weeks."
"That's impossible! I only ate like, four times!"
"Yeah. The human body can preserve itself if need be." Reaper shrugged indifferently. "Besides, we were testing a drug on you, it suppresses the human body's need for sustenance. You could go a month without eating before dying with the dosage we were giving you."
Reaper let out a quiet scoff as he saw Dawg's body language shift towards fear. Good. Most of Talon's higher-ups were gone, off to do other things, which left Reaper to drop this… kid, off at the labs where they'd get what they needed. Mad Dawg, meanwhile, was trying to think of an escape plan.
"If I kick him in the balls, how much time would that give me to run? Does he even have any?"
Well, testicularly painful escape plans or not, Mad Dawg didn't expect a massive explosion to go off a few rooms over, and the sound of panicked gunfire. Mad Dawg took his chance and head-butted Reaper before running for it. He slid across the ground and into an open door which closed behind him. It took him a minute (and an awkward position) but he managed to get his hands free from the binding ropes. He reached for his bag… which he then realized he didn't have.
"Okay. You're unarmed, alone, and in a terroist base. Think rationally." Mad Dawg told himself. Then sprinted out the door deciding to throw rational to the wind. He sprinted down the hall, hearing voices shouting among the alarms.
"Aaaggh… they all bailed!" A voice groaned in irritation. "They were here! Just days ago!"
"Reaper's still here. Find him!"
"If they're looking for Reaper, then that probably means they aren't here to kill me…" Mad Dawg thought.
"Hel-!" Mad Dawg tried to call out, but suddenly had a knife in his side. "AAGH!"
"SHUT. UP." Reaper snarled, appearing from a shadow and throwing Mad Dawg into a wall. "We were trying to do this without hurting you, we were trying to be nice… but then you had to go and do THIS."
"I…don't know… what you… want!" Mad Dawg struggled to get out.
"Hrgh… fine. Then you're of no use to us." Reaper remarked, reaching for one of his guns.
"CROSSBOW!" Mad Dawg yelled, Reaper was about to react, but yelled in pain and dropped Mad Dawg. He looked down to see a crossbow arrow now in his lower abdomen, and Mad Dawg quickly loading another one. He raised his bow, but Reaper raised one of his shotguns. "YAAGGH!"
Mad Dawg ducked, the blast just barely missing him. Bouncing back up, Mad Dawg knocked the shotgun from Reaper's hand and took off running. He knew he needed to get out of here. NOW. There were new people here… maybe they could help!
"Ragh… damn it!" He heard Reaper curse in irritation. Mad Dawg didn't stop, he just kept running through the halls, rounding corners, smashing through doors, occasionally tackling the random unnamed red shirt who got in his way… but the adrenaline which had been fueling him was being replaced by realism. More importantly, the fact that he was alone, barely armed, and in a terrorist base somewhere.
"Help!" Mad Dawg managed to scream. "Someone! ANYONE!"
"What the- there's someone here!" A man's voice shouted in genuine disbelief. "Find him!"
Mad Dawg hit the ground running, he heard the cocking of a shotgun and dove for cover as Reaper fired multiple shots after him. The guns had pitiful range, but Dawg knew a thing or two about shotguns, and he knew those things would kill if they hit him. Healing factor or no! He looked around in a panic, passing what looked like goons' quarters, janitorial closets and locked doors. A shotgun blast made him dive to the ground, rolling several times, before launching himself into the first open door. Breathing heavily, he looked around and then his eyes widened at the plot convenience.
"Hey… my bag!" Mad Dawg exclaimed, eyes widening. "Oh. This is gonna be fun…"
Reaper kicked open another door, guns drawn, looking for the escaped prisoner. There was no way he'd find the exit immediately, but the fact that he might was enough to get Reaper double-timing to find him. He saw him head this way, but the room was quiet…
RrRrrRrr…
"Is… that…"
Reaper's confusion turned to genuine shock as Mad Dawg lunged forward, now with a very active chainsaw. Reaper turned into his wraith form and flew backwards, re-forming and grabbing his guns…
…which were then sliced in two.
He grabbed another pair of guns…
…which were then sliced in two.
He grabbed another pair of guns…
"You're slow, aren't you?" Mad Dawg asked, going in for another slash, but Reaper disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Mad Dawg blinked, confused as to what was happening… and then realized what was happening.
"CRAP!" He yelled, running through a nearby door as Reaper opened fire once more. Mad Dawg looked around, seeing he was in a bathroom, and had a stupid, terrible idea…
Reaper kicked the doors open and snarled in hate-filled anger. At first, he was indifferent to whomever this… 'Dawg' was. Just a target, big deal. Then, he began to grow annoyed by his antics. Now, he was angered by the kid's humiliation… so now, he was going to kill him.
He looked around, then saw the stalls, all closed.
"You really are that stupid…" Reaper muttered, before firing four shots, one into each stall door, blasting the flimsy, ineffective doors off their hinges… But Mad Dawg wasn't there. "What."
Mad Dawg silently slipped out from behind Reaper and got out the door, resisting the urge to kick Reaper in the "souls" before running. But… he settled on shooting him again with his crossbow. It hit his arm, and Reaper spun around and took off after Dawg.
Reaper snarled, ripping the bolt out from his arm. It barely dug in, but it threw him off-balance and that was good enough. Another explosion went off, destroying a nearby wall and creating a massive smoke screen. Dawg took aim and got ready to fire, but when the dust settled, Reaper was gone.
"Woo! Score one!" Mad Dawg laughed victoriously, before hissing in pain at the knife still lodged in his side. He was bleeding, a lot. Normally, he'd've healed by now, but that wasn't exactly possible. So, he pulled himself up and kept running. Blood loss or not, he was NOT gonna be stuck in this freak house longer than he needed to be. He stumbled down a hallway, slinging his chainsaw on his back and loading his crossbow. Rounding a corner, he saw what looked like a cowboy fighting a Talon goon… or he was losing it. Regardless, he aimed and fired, taking down the Talon goon with an arrow to the knee, before being finished off by a shot to the head by the cowboy.
"…thanks!" the cowboy called, seemingly realizing 'Oh, crap! There's a kid here!'
"No prob-" Mad Dawg began, but was sent flying by Reaper coming in out of nowhere. Mad Dawg felt his guts explode as a shotgun went off relatively close to him. Not enough to cause anything permanent, but also… IT REALLY HURT! Mad Dawg gasped, he would've screamed, but he couldn't. He was just too tired… the bleeding from the knife, the adrenaline from running, the disorientation from being locked up who knows how long… He couldn't man, he just couldn't right now…
To Dawg's drowsy shock, Reaper was sent flying by what looked like a giant hammer… still, the world was fading fast, so Dawg couldn't muster the strength to crack the obvious joke… Standing before him (or at least, what Dawg was hallucinating) was a metal giant, probably some sort of Omnic… The last thing Mad Dawg saw was the behemoth before him reaching down with a massive metallic hand. A hand which Dawg thought could wrap all the way around him with little effort…
"I've got 'im…" Was the last thing Dawg heard before everything went black.
"Ugh… wht…what the hell happened…!?" Mad Dawg groaned, his eyes slowly opening. He wasn't dead, he was lying down, he wasn't in darkness… all those things were – tentatively – good. Suddenly, the concerned face of a woman appeared above him.
"Oh, thank goodness your awake!" The woman smiled, sighing in relief. She came to his side, but gently pushed him back down as Dawg tried to lean up. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, please don't move. You're not exactly in good condition."
"Rgh..wh..whereami…" Mad Dawg groaned, still trying to get up. However, the woman shook her head, pushing him back down.
"Please, lie down." She said in a very kind voice. "You're safe, you're on an airship. You're not in Talon's base anymore."
"Oh… thanks…" Mad Dawg coughed. "Who are you?"
"My name, is Doctor Angela Ziegler, but please. Call me Mercy." Mercy smiled down at Mad Dawg, who weakly returned it.
"I'll say…" He muttered, and Mercy chuckled in amusement. "I'm Mad Dawg." From the look on her face, it was clear Mercy didn't fully believe that was his real name, but decided that right now wasn't the time to question that.
"Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?"
"Water would be great." Mad Dawg admitted. "They gave me a little bit of water, and they fed me chili of all things… but I don't know how long I was down there." Mercy nodded and disappeared, returning a minute later with a bottle and some protein bars. "Thanks."
"It's just fine, you poor dear… Why were you there? Do you have any idea why they took you?"
"No." Mad Dawg frowned, irritated as he took a drink of water. "They kept saying I knew why, but whenever I asked them, they didn't answer me… the cloak and dagger one kept dagger-ing me…"
That didn't sit well with Mercy, who sighed and picked up her staff, activating a calming yellow stream-
"Phrasing." Mad Dawg laughed in his mind.
-which made Dawg's body relax, it felt like he was wrapped up in a warm blanket that was healing him. He let out a slight hiss in irritation and pain, seeing the knife still in his side.
"Why'd you leave that in?" Mad Dawg asked, annoyed.
"It's very close to an artery. If we try and remove it without proper tools, you could bleed to death." Mercy calmly replied patting his shoulder. "We'll have It removed when we return to base."
"Hah. Right." Mad Dawg laughed, grabbing the handle of the blade.
"Wait! What are you-?!"
"GAAH!" Mad Dawg yelled as he ripped the knife out from his side. Mercy was about to spring into emergency medic mode, but she stared in disbelief at the bleeding wound, which slowly closed itself and seemed to disappear, leaving a very faint scar.
"How did you…"
"I don't know." Mad Dawg shook his head, looking at his new knife. "I've always… had that. The one thing I do know, is that metal really screws with it. I've pushed out bullets and arrows before, but if you stick a knife in me, and it doesn't get taken out? I'm not gonna heal."
"That's… amazing." Mercy managed to get out, before frowning again and pushing him back down. "I'm sorry, child. But you've been through a lot recently, I don't want you walking around just yet!"
"But I'm fine!" Mad Dawg protested.
"You were subjected to psychological torture for who knows how long, as well as physical assault!"
"So!?"
"…I like him." One of the others on the ship commented, earning themselves a Mercy death glare.
"Ugh… I knew I shouldn't've told Ana we'd be fine with one medic on this job…" Mercy muttered. She didn't mean anything by it, but one of her teammates just had to speak up…
"If yer implyin' you'd shoot him with a tranq so he'd stop moving, that kinda seems to go against the whole 'Do no harm' bit you live by." A man's voice spoke up, calm, and with a southern accent.
"Jesse. I am trying to help a child! Could you please keep such comments to yourself?" Mercy asked, irritated, then grew even more irritated when she felt Mad Dawg struggle against her arm, clearly unnerved by the implications. "Oh, wonderful. Now you made him think we want him dead!"
"Hey, that's why you're the medic, and I'm the muscle."
"Little one, please. It's all right, please be calm." Mercy tried again to calm Mad Dawg down, and after a few moments, he seemed to do so… before cracking his back rather audibly.
"UGH, Finally!" Mad Dawg groaned in relief, lying back down as Mercy asked him. "Man… sitting in that chair for… however long that was really screwed with my spine…"
Mercy blinked, then let out a long exhale. Shaking her head, she checked a tablet before nodding to herself. "Right." She remarked. "Your body does seem to be healing at quite the accelerated rate. You claim you don't know why this is?"
"No." Dawg shook his head. "I just- I dunno. I've had it as long as I can remember."
"Hm… perhaps this is the wrong time for such questions, but how much can your body repair?"
Mad Dawg leaned up again and looked around, as if looking for something in particular. Then to Mercy's (and everyone else aboards) horror, he pulled one of his legs up, grabbed an arm, and stomped down, snapped the bone in two.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Mercy outright screamed, beyond mortified at the sight of the young boy's self-mutilation, and of course, Dawg was in shock and couldn't answer. However, Mercy did get her answer when Dawg's arm twitched, and seemed to spaz about, twisting almost 360 degrees before stopping, and Dawg waved his arm.
"Does that answer your question?" Mad Dawg asked.
"All right, I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice." Mercy frowned. With a surprising amount of force, she reached over and pulled up initially an emergency seatbelt, and strapped it across Dawg. She had no intentions of tying him up, as that would raise several moral questions, but she couldn't risk him hurting himself further. However, the Medic wasn't prepared for the genuine fear that Mad Dawg responded with, struggling against her as if his life depended on it.
"No! Please! I don't wanna go back!"
"Mad Dawg. Look at me." Mercy placed both hands on his shoulders to make him look at her. "I don't want to hurt you, I only want to make sure you're okay. I can't have you hurting yourself like that."
"You asked me to!"
"No, I didn't." Mercy retorted, trying to keep a calm tone, but she saw something… something painful in his eyes. He seemed to be afraid, as if he just realized where he had been and who had taken him. She clicked her tongue, then gave him a gentle hug, trying to soothe him. "Listen, even if you can heal, you've still been in an extended period of time where you were not able to interact with the world, I simply want to make sure you're okay." She said, letting go.
"O..okay…just…just please take this off." There was something about the way he spoke that hurt Mercy, he seemed so afraid, so genuinely terrified…
"I will, but I will be restraining your legs, simply to ensure they properly heal." Mercy compromised, and Mad Dawg nodded. The medic leaned over him and released the restraints, then turned around to set them down before turning back to re-attach them.
"All right, just allow me-"
Mercy groaned, exasperated and pinched the bridge of her nose. Mad Dawg was on the gurney… but was also half-way off of it, too. His top half hung down in a very odd position and Dawg looked around at his surroundings, upside-down.
"Uh, this feels weird." He remarked. "Hi."
"Hey."
"I'm Mad Dawg."
"I'm McCree."
"…that sounds familiar…"
"Now that you mention it, your name sounds familiar too…" McCree muttered. "Eh, probably just some old movie."
Mercy groaned, pulling Mad Dawg back up to the gurney, strapping down his legs and giving him an annoyed look, but Mad Dawg just smirked.
"Okay, okay, Ms. Mercy. I'll stop…" He muttered, lying back down and seeming to finally calm down. Mercy nodded, then seemed to return to her concerned medic mode, checking. However, heavy footsteps which seemed to shake the ship got his attention as a giant knight in armour walked into the back half of the ship.
"Ah, he's awake?" The giant commented, and Mercy nodded.
"Yes, he's doing remarkably well considering how you found him." The Nurse mused, deciding to ignore the whole 'healing-and-self-mutilation' part.
"Hey."
"Hello!" The Knight replied jovially. "It is good to see you survived."
"Yeah, I've been through worse." Mad Dawg shrugged. Mercy blinking in an 'I'm sorry, WHAT.' kind of way. "Still, glad to be outta there. How'd you guys find me?" Mad Dawg asked.
"We didn't." The Knight answered, and Dawg' heart sank somewhat. "We were given a lead that there may be Talon activity in the area. We chased one of their lackeys back there, and were given the go-ahead to try and bring Reaper in, but we heard you crying for help."
"Oh. Well. Thanks." Mad Dawg smiled.
"Yeah, Reinhardt here was the one that grabbed ya." McCree remarked, taking a drag off of a cigar.
"Jesse! Not in front of him!" Mercy snapped. McCree ignored her.
"Probably should've asked this first, but who exactly are you guys?" Mad Dawg asked, realizing that yeah. He probably should've asked that first.
"We're Overwatch, kid." McCree nodded, and Dawgs' eyes widened in amazement.
"Huh. Well today just got a whole lot more interesting…" Mad Dawg remarked.
Not sure which chapters I'll fully re-write, but hey. I like this better.
Translations (In order of when they were said):
Spanish
Open up, sweetie.
Why are you doing this to me?
You speak Spanish?
I wanna go home…
Please let me go.
That seems unlikely…
I have to admit; your Spanish is pretty good.
Good night, sweet dreams. I'll see you in the morning, little boy.
French
I don't get what they see in you…
You're just a runaway street brat…
Why they won't let me kill you is beyond anyone's guess.
What the hell!?
Oh. You DO understand me.
Piss off!
Watch your tongue child, lest I have it removed...
Seriously? I've heard that threat like, twice now!
If you don't behave, I'll leave you in the dark.
I don't know if you're trying to scare me, but it isn't working.