Sometimes, normally when she had a mission in the morning, Tracer had problems sleeping. She wasn't sure whether to blame that on the Chronal Accelerator she wore or her generally excited personality, but she was often walking through the halls of the OverHouse towards the kitchen while the rest of the House slept.

Tracer groggily rounded the corner into the kitchen, then hopped onto the counter to find her favorite teacup. Once she located it, she started up the kettle, dropped her teabags in, then turned for the fridge to get her cream.

A young woman in purple pajamas stood in the open fridge, digging through it in search of something. Her hair was half-shaven and parted to the right side of her head. The left side appeared to have some kind of wires or cords going from her skull to her back.

"Oi, pass the milk," yawned Tracer. The mystery woman handed Tracer a jug of milk, then returned to her digging. "Thanks, mate." Tracer took a few steps for her tea, then paused.

She rushed back over to the fridge, where the mystery woman was emerging with a plastic container labeled "REAPER". She locked eyes with Tracer, who seemed completely stunned.

"Hola," she said. Tracer snapped back to reality, let out a surprised shriek, then Blinked for the door. The mystery woman tapped the air, purple hexagons forming under her fingers and sending streams of light at Tracer, who paused in mid-Blink.

"Huh?" Tracer tried to Blink again, to little success.

"Your kettle is ready, mija," said the woman. "It's dangerous to leave the stove on."

"POPS!" shouted Tracer. "WE'VE GOT AN INTRUDER!"

Somewhere upstairs, a door was kicked down, and the sound of heavy, running footsteps could be heard. In seconds, 76 was in the kitchen, adjusting his Tactical Visor and brandishing his Heavy Pulse Rifle.

"Hands where I can see em!" he shouted. The mystery woman didn't seem to notice, too busy digging through the drawers for a fork.

"Hola, Abuelo," said the woman. She found her fork, then hopped up on the counter and slid her food in the microwave. She tapped her fingers through the air, much like she did to Tracer, and the microwave started on its own.

"Don't move!" 76 yelled.

"Ay, calm down, Abuelo. You'll wake the rest of the house," said the woman. "Calm down, I don't want any trouble. I'm just hungry, you know?"

"Who are you?" asked Tracer. The woman shrugged, then grabbed her food from the microwave.

"Isn't that what everyone wants to know?" she asked with a wink, raising a fork full of black beans and rice to her purple-painted lips.

"Put down the damn container!" 76 squeezed the trigger halfway. "I will shoot!"

"Go ahead, Abuelo," said the woman with a smirk. "It won't bother me any."

Before Tracer could warn him, 76 raised his gun up and fired. The woman dodged to the right, then waved her hand through the air. As she did, she glowed faintly in purple light and vanished from view.

"What the…" Tracer looked around, unable to find her. "Pops, watch out. This one's dangerous."

"So am I," said 76 simply.

"She stopped me Blinking," said Tracer. "I tried to fall back and grab my weapons, but she stopped me mid-Blink. Plus, she can go invisible. How can you beat that?"

"I don't need to see her to know she's there." 76 activated his Visor. "I've got you in my sights!" 76's gun auto-locked to empty space and was just about to fire when five little beams of light cut through the air and connected with his Visor, shutting it off.

"What the hell?" 76 tapped his Visor in a futile attempt to reactivate it.

"Honestly, Abuelo, you're going to have to do better than that." The woman reappeared on the counter, chewing idly on her fork. "Ay, where do you keep the hot sauce? Papi don't season his food worth jack."

A cloud of thick black smoke poured into the room, swirling around the kitchen and condensing next to 76. The smoke began to take form, eventually taking form of the tall, brooding, cloaked Reaper.

"Who the hell is eating my leftovers?!" he snarled. "I'll kill you!" Reaper ripped his shotguns from his coat and aimed them at the source of his smell, then lowered them when he saw who the culprit was. "Oh. You."

"Hola, Papi," said the woman, waving. "What has you up so late?"

"I smelled my rice and beans… How many times must I explain to you? Death comes to those who touch my food."

"Hold it, Reyes," said 76. "You know this girl?"

"Unfortunately," growled Reaper. "Her name is Sombra."

"What is she doing here?" asked Tracer.

"Uh, I live here, mija," said Sombra, having at some point located the hot sauce and doused her rice with it.

"Like hell you do," said 76. "I've never even heard of you."

"That don't change the fact that I live here."

"Since when?"

"Let's see, today's Thursday, so…" Sombra counted on her fingers. "Six months? Yeah, six months."

"Six months! How have you been here for six months without anyone knowing?" demanded 76.

"I haven't been," said Sombra. "Papi knew I was here. Hermana, too."

"Hermana?" asked Tracer.

"It means 'sister'," said Reaper. "And she means Widow."

"Aww, that's kinda sweet, actually."

"Shut up, Oxton."

"You knew she was here?" asked 76. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"We assumed it was common knowledge. Lacroix and I came to live here, so it only makes sense that Sombra would follow."

"Yeah, you guys sorta left me unemployed, so I was pretty much out of options," said Sombra. She tossed her container, now completely empty, into the sink. "Ay dios mio, Papi, we really need to teach you to cook. I didn't know you could mess up rice and beans."

"If it was so terrible, why did you eat the whole thing?" growled Reaper.

"I had to make sure the whole thing was terrible, duh."

Reaper dropped his shotguns and clenched his fists hard enough to crush stone.

"Dios dame paciencia porque si me das fuerza los mato…"

Both Tracer and 76 turned away from Sombra to focus on Reaper.

"Was that Spanish?" asked Tracer.

"He does that sometimes," said 76. "When he gets flustered or angry. Haven't heard him speak Spanish like that since—"

"Morrison!"

"Ana dumped him."

Silence reigned over the kitchen. Reaper began to fume angrily, more so than he normally did, and Tracer was trying her hardest not to laugh. Meanwhile, Sombra was tapping away and hacking something that only she could see.

"The three of us vowed to never speak of that," said Reaper flatly.

"We also agreed to use our abilities for the good of mankind, and to never shoot our friends in the back. We see how that worked."

"Got it!" Sombra made a little box with her thumbs and index fingers, then spread it wide. An image bloomed in the space between her fingers, an image of a young Gabriel Reyes smirking happily as a young Ana Amari kissed him on the cheek.

"Delete it," ordered Reaper.

"Wow, Papi, you were quite the looker, weren't you?" giggled Sombra. "If you were maybe thirty years younger, I'd let you take me out for dinner."

"Now, Sombra," snarled Reaper.

"You two were so cute together," snickered Tracer. "Why'd she dump ya?"

"It was mutual. Work got in the way."

"I bet Ana would love to see that picture again," said 76. "Sombra, can you send me a copy?"

"I'll do you one better, Abuelo," said Sombra. She tapped at nothing, and several beams of light flew throughout the house. "There. Just sent it to everyone in the House."

"Sombra, I can make your life a living hell," snarled Reaper. "Delete it now, before I make you regret showing yourself."

"Sorry, Papi. Once something is on the internet, not even I can get rid of it."

"I'm telling them about Hermilio," hissed Reaper. Sombra gasped, her face blushing bright red.

"Don't you dare, Papi!"

"Who's Hermilio?" asked Tracer.

"I swear to God, Papi, don't talk about Hermilio!"

"Sombra couldn't find a boyfriend, so she made a 'love bot' called Hermilio," said Reaper. "And one time, when we were getting ready for a mission, I caught her and Hermilio having-"

"Okay, fine, I'll delete it!" Sombra tapped her fingers and grabbed at nothing, the old photo appearing in her hand. She tore it to shreds, the fragments bursting into purple pixels when they hit the ground.

"Good," said Reaper. He turned to smoke and floated out of the kitchen. "Don't touch my leftovers…"

"Ay dios mio, Papi, that's not fair," grumbled Sombra. "Alright, Abuelo, mija. I'm tired. Buenos noches."

"Hey, would you mind cooking dinner tomorrow?" asked 76. "Mercy is busy."

"Si. I have a great enchilada recipe. Maybe Papi will learn from me how to make real food," said Sombra. She waved her hand through the air and vanished in purple light. Tracer looked to 76, who was pulling off his Visor and heading for the door.

"Is that all?" asked Tracer. "You're just gonna let her stay?"

"I don't listen to Fawkes very often, but there's something he says that I like a lot," said 76. "He says 'The OverHouse is nothing but a band of misfits and freaks. I love it'. And we are, Lena. We're freaks. So, I say we accept our own, let them in when they have nowhere to go. If we turned away people like Sombra, McCree wouldn't be here. Reyes wouldn't be here. Hell, I wouldn't be here. Something I've learned from my time in the service with Gabe, before he became what he is now, is that the world is a harsh, cruel place that punishes the weak and the innocent. It's easy to not care, and we have to be stronger than that. Accept those who are out of options."

"W-wow…" Tracer was stunned. 76 wasn't normally this sentimental. She wondered if it was due to his age.

"Plus, enchiladas sound really good right about now," added 76, after a moment of thought. "So that has something to do with it."