"A massive explosion rocked Central Italy today as an Helix Security Drone Complex was destroyed," an unseen news anchor comments.
On screen, a mass of burning rubble is shown from an aerial camera. The screen cuts back to an Omnic news anchor in a dress. The destroyed building remains in the background of the Atlas News Studio.
"The complex was located on an undeveloped piece of land just outside of Rome. Fortunately, no casualties have been reported. Officials still have no leads on who or what caused the explosion. But the ex-Overwatch Agent 'Tracer' has been spotted at multiple sites around Rome over the past twenty-four hours. Including Roman train stations.
"Enhanced person sightings have been increasing all over the world in the past few months. Is this ex-agent really on vacation as she claims? Is this the start of something more? Stay tuned as our panel weighs in."
The news report is cut off and replaced with four frowning faces. Lena chews on her lip as Solider 76, Angela, Winston, and Torbjörn glare at her.
"I didn't do it! Honestly! I had no idea anything exploded! I'm telling the truth this time! Scouts Honor!" Lena holds up the three-finger salute using her other hand to keep the bag of frozen peas to her face.
Torbjörn scoffs, "Ya weren't even in the scouts."
"Time Traveler's Honor." She switches to a Spock salute.
"I can confirm that neither Tracer nor Widowmaker was anywhere near the Drone Complex for the duration of their mission," Athena says.
Lena lets out a sigh of relief as her co-worker's expression become less judgmental.
"Regardless," Winston says, "I want you and Widowmaker to maintain a low profile from now on and leave as soon as possible. Something else is going on in Rome, and until we know more, I don't want anyone to engage."
Lena puts on her best 'who me?' face.
Winston clears his throat, "The next item on the agenda is, well, Lena you said something about Widowmaker's mind shattering?"
"Not me," Lena holds up a finger, "the Informant."
"How do we know we can trust this information?" demands Soldier 76.
"I don't think he lied," Lena replies, "But he also seemed like he'd say anything to get Widow six feet under. So, eh."
Solider 76 grunts.
"I'm not a psychologist, as I keep trying to tell you, but the explanation does make sense," Angela says, "If you place the mind under that much stress eventually something is going to give."
Angela sighs and rubs her neck.
"Despite that Widowmaker hasn't been aggressive; for safety reasons I think it best she's separated from the rest of company until we can properly evaluate her mental state."
Angela taps a pen against her jaw and focuses on a point in the distance.
"Obviously, Lena needs to return to base. Someone better matched, Genji most likely, should be sent to escort Widowmaker. We can put her back in the Omega Cell. I suppose," Angela says looking uncomfortable.
"Just knock her out, zip-tie her up, and fly back," 76 orders with a casual hand motion, "That's how we did it in the old days."
"I told ya it was a bad idea to invite a snake into our midst. We could barely trust her when she was sane. I don't like it any more than you do but we need to stop pretending she's anything more than a weapon," Torbjörn says.
"Lacroix is my patient and an affiliate of Overwatch. I will not stand for these types of comments," Angela says.
"Lacroix is gone, Angela. The sooner you accept this the better," 76 says firmly.
"Jack, Angela, please-" Winston interrupts.
"Can we not do this now?" Lena asks.
"She is still a person and despite the danger she poses to our group she will be treated with respect," Angela says.
"Is that you or the guilt talking?" 76 asks.
"If we could return to the-"
"Do you really want to talk about guilt? Jack?"
Lena blows a lock of hair out of her face as the familiar argument runs its course. She glances down at Torb's square. Torbjörn looks at her and shrugs as if to say You already know my opinion. I don't know why I'm here. He hops off his stool and walks off screen. A few seconds later a bucket with bolts, gears, washers, and a mop head attached to it in the rough shape of the Weapon Designer's face scoots into view.
"At least I'm not repeating the same mistakes because I can't accept not everyone can be saved."
"Oh, is that what you're doing? Here I thought you were desperately trying to mend your broken pride."
"ENOUGH!" Winston roars.
Properly roars. Roars in only the way a genetically modified gorilla can. Winston's feed shakes from the noise. Angela and 76 freeze. Torbjörn's stand-in loses a bolt becoming nose-less. Lena counts her lucky stars that she wasn't the catalyst for the argument this time.
"Thank you," Winston says after a moment of silence. "Now considering Lena is the only person in immediate danger I would like to hear what she has to say on the matter."
"Weeeeell..."
She considers, seriously considers, telling Angela and Jack everything. How the entire mission went pear-shaped in under thirty seconds. How Widowmaker endangered Tanaka's life at least three times. She thinks about how easy it would be to pin the blame on the ex-Talon agent. That no one would argue too hard against her call. And how Widowmaker deserved some karma in her life.
But it's not like Lena's blameless in this situation either. She's been calling the shots. She chose to push Widowmaker to the end of her rope despite the risks. And then there's the whole issue of trying to explain to Angie why she thought locking Widowmaker in an icebox was a good idea.
She knows Widowmaker hasn't been helping them out of the goodness of her heart, but the sniper had yet to go back on her word. On anything. That had to count for something.
"I'm not going to say Widowmaker isn't dangerous, cause she is, but I don't think she's a danger to us. From what Mr. Tanaka said her mind has been wonky the entire time she's been with us, and she hasn't hurt anyone yet. We're leaving tomorrow at five O'clock sharp. Frankly, if she hasn't killed me because of my jokes by now she won't do it over the next twelve hours."
Off-screen, Torbjörn mutters, "If only."
Winston gives her a grateful smile. For not escalating the situation or choosing a side she doesn't know.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angela asks, "We can find another way to get everyone back."
"A deadly assassin might try to blow my brains out in the next few hours. Not like that's never happened before," Lena deadpans.
76 snorts. Angela lets out a small sigh but looks relieved. Both wish her luck before logging off leaving Winston and the fake Torb. Lena reaches up to tap the end call button when Winston becomes full screen.
"Lena."
She slowly lowers her hand, delaying the enviable.
"Yeah?" she asks with her signature smile.
Winston takes off his glasses and looks her dead in the eye looking Extremely Disappointed. He's improved it a lot since taking on the title of Acting Commander. She hates having this expression aimed at her.
"You promised you could handle this," he rumbles and then sighs.
Lena runs her fingers through her hair and looks away from the screen. "I know Big Guy. I'm sorry."
"You locked Widowmaker in a walk-in-freezer."
"Not one of my best decisions. No. But my options were kinda limited, and she's ok now."
"The informant said she tried to kill him."
"Well, obviously he's still alive?"
"You've been fighting," he says pointing at the bruise on Lena's chin.
"She started it!" Lena exclaims slapping the peas down on the desk. After a beat, she picks the package back up looking embarrassed. "We both knew that was probably going to happen. It wasn't any worse than a regular sparring match."
Another sigh.
"Be honest with me. Is something wrong with Widowmaker?"
Well, that's the million-pound question; isn't it. But how do you even tell with someone like Widow?
Lena pulls a face. "I'm not sure but I want to talk to her before I pass any judgment about putting her in a psych ward."
"And you really think Widowmaker isn't a danger?"
"I mean, no more than usual," Lena says with a shrug.
Winston stares at her searching her face for something she can't name. They're best friends, always have been, but that doesn't mean they don't disagree sometimes.
"I'm trusting you to get everyone home safely," he says at last.
Lena nods, happy to be back in familiar territory.
It's the least she can do considering part of Widowmaker's outburst was her fault. Admittedly most people wouldn't react well to being locked in a freezer but Lena still thinks attempting to filet her with steak knives was excessive.
But she finally got Widow to do something. She finally got to see some real anger, which she wasn't sure was possible before. It wasn't the reaction she wanted but was probably the best she was going to get. And then there was the issue of Widowmaker "failing." Whether Mr. Tanaka was telling the truth or not whatever happened back in the taxi was flat-out weird.
Tracer doesn't want a repeat of that if she can help it. Mr. Tanaka was talking about Talon right before everything when wrong so that should be avoided. However, walking on eggshells around Widowmaker would probably only make things worse. Keeping up the status quo of being a peppy little annoyance might be her best option. There was something to be said about routine admits chaos.
Lena looks into the bedroom where she can just see the bathroom door.
As long as Widowmaker continues to be semi-reasonable, Lena will try her best to talk things out with her, as much as she can anyways. Violence isn't a good solution to these types of problems.
If Widowmaker does snap? Well, she'll just have to cross that bridge when she gets to it.
Lena blinks at her statement.
That was a little bit heavier than usual for her. In fact, the whole situation was just a bit odder, a little bit stranger than she was used to. It was familiar but just ever so slightly tilted. Lena tightens the straps of her Accelerator, so they dig into her shoulders. Just like something from another timeline.
Lena glances around. The island is still there. She can still feel the stool under her. Did her tablet always have that crack in the screen? Her jacket is still hanging on the wall, right where she left it. She did get a red plate for her sandwiches, not a blue one. Right?
"Lena?" Winston ask.
Everything just the way it should be; she's sure. Positive. Almost certain. Mostly.
But she has to check.
"Winstonwherewereyou-" Lena says in a rush.
"I was born in the Sea of Tranquility, among the stars, on the small satellite christened Luna which hangs in the sky like an ornament, circling the small dust ball I now call home," Winston says with sweeping hand gestures.
Lena lets out a laugh at his theatrics.
The thing most people didn't understand, the thing she didn't like to explain, was when she was lost in the Slipstream she wasn't dead. She just didn't exist. Or more specifically she didn't exist here, now, in this reality.
Instead, she spent some of her time outside of space and time (which was just as confusing as it sounded) and the rest in other timelines. Lena "visited" several thousand timelines easy. And while that had been an interesting and educational experience after a while she needed some way to know she was back in her timeline.
As it turns out even across the vast expanse of parallel universes a walking talking hyper-intelligent gorilla was still an oddity. Even then there was only one Winston who joined Overwatch, saved her life, and was born on the moon.
"Thanks, Big Guy."
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Of course!" Lena chirps. Then she softens her tone, "Yeah, I am. It's just been a really weird day."
"Just come back in one piece this time. I don't want to have to retrieve your leg from subspace again. "
"That was a one off!"
Winston's laugh is cut off as the call ends, but Lena feels lighter than she has all day. She messed up, no doubt about it but Tanaka's safe, everyone is alive, and she has a chance to fix things, so it's a good day in her books.
Widowmaker braces herself to leave the bathroom. What will follow will surely be an experience but she needs her rifle back. Tracer had taken it and undoubtedly thrown it into some corner with dirty laundry or something. She will walk out, retrieve Widow's Kiss, and then enjoy some well-deserved alone time on the balcony.
Widowmaker sets her jaw and marches out of the bathroom. She makes it less than five steps before Tracer's head pops up. The speedster is sitting at the island fooling with her tablet. Her eyes widen as she takes in Widowmaker's appearance: the capris-sweatpants, the bun, the animosity sweater. She grins and opens her mouth.
"Not a word," Widowmaker hisses. "Or should I remind you that you regularly wear leggings that could be used to direct air traffic."
Tracer closes her mouth but keeps the cheeky grin.
"From space."
"I wasn't going to say a thing," Tracer says fooling no one, "It's just I've never seen you dressed down before. "
Widowmaker huffs and continues her search.
"Why do you wear your jumpsuit un-zipped, anyways?"
Reaper asked her the same thing once. She explained that her superiors thought it boosted morale. She hadn't protested. If she overlooked some of their peculiarities, they overlooked some of hers. She didn't mind the suit; it reminded her of a leotard. Besides, it wasn't the only mission outfit she owned.
But none of that mattered now. Did it?
"A moment of hesitation can make all the difference in the field. As I'm sure you are well aware."
A small movement catches her eye, Tracer's hand inching towards her phone.
"Take a picture, lose a hand," Widowmaker promises.
The hand stops. Widowmaker spots her rifle laid out on the couch looking no worse for wear. She picks it up, examines it. Its state is acceptable.
"Find whatcha were looking for?" Tracer asks in that grating alto of hers.
"Oui." Widowmaker shoulders her rifle and turns to leave.
"Actually," Tracer says stopping her, "I was hoping you could stay. And we could talk. About what happened during the mission."
Widowmaker looks back over her shoulder. She was hoping to avoid this even though she has no idea to what the alternative would be.
"I made us a cuppa." Tracer holds up a teapot as if this some grand incentive.
Widowmaker relents and sits. Tracer slides her a cup. Black liquid ripples in the pale china. She gives it an experimental sip. It's bitter, not sweet as she expected. Widowmaker takes another drink. The bite is refreshing, but there should be something to balance it. Something solid. A pastry. She hasn't had pastries in a very long time. Can she even eat sweets? They'd probably be catastrophic for her blood sugar. Widowmaker resolves to ask Dr. Ziegler when they get back to the Watchpoint.
Tracer clears her throat. "Guess I'll start then. First off, this has been one of the worst missions I have ever been on. And I was there when we first met Junkrat. I mean you think 'What's a Junkrat? Sounds like packrat. Can't be too threatening.'
"Got blown halfway into the stratosphere and nearly set myself on fire. Lost an eyebrow. I had a date too... So not the worst mission ever but definitely top ten."
Widowmaker wonders if Tracer drew herself another eyebrow with a marker.
"I am sorry about locking you in the freezer. I'm not apologizing for why I did it. I just didn't think you'd get all purple and frozen."
Widowmaker is surprised by the sincerity in her voice.
"But the way I see it is none of this actually has to be recorded on the official mission statement if," Tracer splays her arms out on the countertop, "you tell what the heck happened back in the lorry."
So there it is; what Tracer wants out in the open. Again, another proposition she can't refuse. Widowmaker stares down into her tea, ignoring Tracer who leaned closer during her monolog.
"Did Mr. Tanaka insult you? Was he not following orders? Did he threaten you? I mean not everyone has stellar survival instincts."
Tracer waits a moment. Widowmaker says nothing.
"Come on," she groans, "You have to give me something to work with here." Tracer drops her head into her hands. "Just tell me what you were thinking when you nearly threw Mr. Tanaka out of the bloody car," she grumbles.
"I wasn't," Widowmaker says.
Widowmaker can't remember a single coherent thought during that moment.
"Oh! Okay, ah, that's really unusual for you isn't it? I mean you've always got a plan or fifteen..."
Widowmaker traces the rim of her cup with her finger.
"Do you remember what you were thinking before ya went." Tracer gestures randomly. "Tanaka was talking about his job at Talon. I couldn't quite hear everything."
"He knew about me," Widowmaker says.
The hotel room is silent other than the water rushing through the pipes and Tracer's jittery feet.
"He knew more about me than I was allowed to know."
Back at Talon, she hadn't questioned it. Such knowledge was frivolous, a distraction from her job. But now she wants to know. She wants to know everything that happened every two months during the blackness of her treatment, everything that was done to her body and mind during those hours of unconsciousness. She wonders what price Sombra will put on such information.
"And what did you think about him saying your, er," Tracer trails off.
"Conditioning failing," Widowmaker supplies. She lifts her shoulders a few centimeters and lets them fall, a shrug of microscopic proportions. "He did provide a logical if abridged, explanation for my actions over the past eight months."
"And how did you feel when you learned that?"
Up was down. Left was right. Nothing was making sense. A stinging wound that kept reopening. How dare they discard her like that? After all she had done for them!
Weight descended on her. A broken, useless operative. What is the purpose of a blade that cannot cut? Worthless. Something unlocked in her chest. Talon does not want her back. She would never have to take their orders again. Finally, numbness engulfed her cutting everything off. Alleviating, smothering numbness.
She could think again. But she could only think about her new terrifying reality. Her own mind, her greatest weapon, could be betraying her.
"I don't know," Widowmaker says.
Tracer hums. Absentmindedly she reaches out and takes both teacups. She slides them around on the island in a swirling pattern.
"That's perfectly alright. Your world got turned upside down and you learned you've gotta 'condition.' That's a big thing to take into consideration."
Tracer stops moving the teacups. She lifts her hands off them and looks between the two in confusion. Widowmaker sighs and pulls her hands out of her pockets. She grabs the rims and slides the drinks back to their respective owners. Tracer flashes her a smile.
"Is that all?" Widowmaker asks.
Tracer nods, "Yeah I've got plenty to chew on now." The speedster lifts her cup to her lips and then stops. "Oh. There was one more thing. Back at base, not naming any names, but they were concerned, I mean with the shattering and almost killing an asset and you do hate me-"
"You are afraid I might slit your throat and dump your body in the harbor? Or kill you and turn your Accelerator into a collage?" Widowmaker chuckles humorlessly. "Believe it or not ma chère but I want to return to your precious Overwatch more than you do."
Tracer visibly relaxes.
"But," Widowmaker hisses, "if you blow our cover one more time I will drag your unconscious body back to the plane and fly us back myself."
Widowmaker stands and walks off. Behind her Tracer mutters Drama Queen and knocks back the rest of her tea.
Lena waits until she hears the sliding door of the balcony close signifying Widowmaker has gone off to sulk before waking her tablet. She'd had to wait because of the time difference; fortunately, it was only an hour off this time. Lena taps the contact and waits for Athena to encrypt the line. It was going to be so nice to talk to someone who didn't have the emotional intellegnce of a brick wall.
At least when they get back home Widow will stop wearing that butt ugly outfit of hers. They tried to give her a suit but noooo she didn't want to wear Overwatch's colors and hers was custom. Of course, she'll just switch back to wearing all black. Honestly, it's like dealing with Emo-Genji all over again.
There's a ping as the call goes through and the other end picks up. Lena perks up as the screen sharpens to show a redheaded woman her age chopping up vegetables.
"Hi, Babe. It's so good to see you," Lena says propping her head up in her hands.
"It's good to see you as well," Emily says focused on the cutting board. " How was work?"
"Oh you know," Lena absentmindedly touches the bruise on her face. "Same old, same old."
"Just another boring day at the office, hmm?" Emily asks chopping up some carrots with a bit more force than necessary. "Sort lots of boxes. Help Winston with more paperwork."
"Well actually," Lena stops and finally puts together that Emily is angry. "You saw the news didn't you."
Emily looks into the camera for the first time since the call started.
"Rome? Really Lena? I understand you can't tell me everything and it's not Numbani or Venice, but Rome? You know I love Rome." Emily scrapes the carrots off the cutting board into a bowl.
"It's not that I wasn't going to tell you-"
"It's that you didn't think I would find out," Emily finishes.
Lena winces because it sounds terrible out loud, but Emily waits for her to explain.
"It was supposed to be a simple mission. In, out, seven hours tops. I took pictures and vids to show you when I got back. It was supposed to be a surprise. Surprise," she says weakly.
Emily sighs and shakes her head. She starts dicing some celery, the tension leaking out of her shoulders.
"Fair idea. Terrible execution," Emily says.
"I'll make it up to you," Lena promises. "I'll bring you something, something you can only get in Rome. They've got all sort of merchandise over here: lanyards, aprons, swim trunks, magnets."
Emily does not look impressed by these options.
"Plastic gladiator helmets, um, I think I saw a Pope bottle opener. Oh! There was a shop that sold miniature versions of the Trevi Fountain."
Emily stops moving at this suggestion.
"How big were theses replications?" Emily asks cautiously.
"Mmm, a fair size." Lena stretches her arms out as if she is holding a large laundry basket to her chest. "I think one would look really nice in the living room."
"We do not need a miniature baroque fountain," Emily says moving closer to the camera. Lowering her voice she says, "Lena, I forbid you from buying a bathtub sized fountain with horses and naked gods on it."
"Oh come on," Lena goads, "Between the model planes and beanbags I think it would really tie the room together."
"Lena. No." Emily growls into the camera. But Lena can see the corner of her lips twitching as she fights back a smile.
With the mood lifted they move on to other topics like Emily's work, what places Lena did get to see, how Winston's doing, sports, and shows until Lena starts yawning so much Emily demands she goes to bed. The call ends and Lena rubs at her eyes, a smile on her face. That was absolutely worth staying up the extra hour.
"You are dating a civilian."
Widowmaker's voice cuts through Lena like a winter gale, chilling her to the core. She says civilian the same way one says acceptable casualties.
Lena turns to see Widowmaker leaning in the doorway. Her skin has regained its bluish tint. The grappling mount dangles loosely from Widowmaker's fingers despite the fact that Lena knows she last saw it besides the couch. It's obvious the ex-Talon agent overheard a fair amount of her conversation. Lena mentally corrects her previous statement; Emo-Genji was never this much of a creep.
"That was a private conversation, luv," Lena says turning in her seat to face her.
"Then you should have had it somewhere private," Widowmaker says.
Lena clenches her teeth and exhales slowly. Just when she was thinking Widow was making some progress.
"Is there a reason you're lurking or do you just get your kicks outta being a stalker?" she asks.
Widowmaker glances down at her right arm and then back up.
"Do better," she demands.
"Excuse you." If Widowmaker is talking about Emily, Lena swears to God-
"If you are going to be so determined to drag the God-forsaken corpse of Overwatch out of its grave do better this time," Widowmaker says marching towards her. "Look for more of its 'unfortunate accidents.' Take off your rose-tinted glasses and see where your heroes tried and failed and then buried the evidence."
Widowmaker jabs her Accelerator to emphasize her point. "Do. Better."
"I'm not in charge, " Lena protests, confused.
Widowmaker gives her a hard look. "The recruits like you. The Old Guard trusts you. The New Guard respects you. You have the highest public approval rating out of all of the original members. You are not a leader; you are popular. You have influence. Use it."
At that moment Lena decides two things. She never wants Widowmaker in her personal space again, and this is the most terrifying pep talk she's ever received.
Widowmaker gives Lena one last jab and having said her piece walks away. Lena sits there reeling from the conversational whiplash. She runs her fingers through her hair.
"Well alrightly then," she says to herself, waiting for her mind to stop spinning, "Sure. Why not?"
As always please PM me if you notice any mistakes spelling, grammar, or otherwise. And thank you to everyone who liked, bookmarked, or commented; I love hearing from you guys.
So first the bad news. There will be no February update because I've run out of buffer and need time to learn how best to allot my time with my new classes.
The good news is we're only just over 1/3rd into the story. So lots more to come!
/Torbjörn has seen people's creations turn on them before. Jack is bitter old man who doesn't want Angela to be manipulated by Widow.
Guess who didn't tell Angela he wasn't dead?
Talon Grunt: It improve moral?
Widowmaker: ...
Widowmaker: I want a Condo
Talon Grunt: Done/