Twenty years ago
Fareeha Amari could barely keep up with her mother's brisk pace, but she knew asking Ana to slow down would be pointless. As far as Fareeha was concerned, her mother didn't exist when within the walls of an Overwatch building. As soon as they entered the building, scanning their ID cards for verification, Ana had vanished. In her place was Captain Amari.
"Mother, do we really need to do all of this?" complained Fareeha. "I'm old enough to take care of myself! I I don't need a babysitter!"
"Hush, my child. An urgent mission has come up, and I need to be able to go between here and there quickly and easily, several times," explained Ana. "I am not leaving you home alone for a week."
"But Mother… Why do I have to stay with Mr. Reyes? I don't even know him…"
"Gabriel is one of the only people I trust to look after my most prized possession. And I'm sure you'll get along fine. Gabriel and I have been friends for years." Ana rounded a corner, then knocked rapidly on the door.
"It's open."
Ana pushed open the door, her daughter hot on her heels. They stepped into an office, where Gabriel Reyes sat at his computer, typing reports and doing what he found to be the worst part of the job.
"Hello, Gabriel," said Ana. "I cannot thank you enough for this. This is her. Fareeha, say hello."
"Hello, Mr. Reyes," mumbled Fareeha, almost inaudible. Gabriel stood up, looking the girl up and down.
"Well, she definitely didn't get your mouth," said Gabriel. "Not the way you run your trap. You sure this is your kid?"
Fareeha frowned, then kicked Gabriel firmly in the shin. Completely unprepared, Gabriel swore in pain, clutching his leg in agony.
"She may not have inherited my mouth," said Ana. "But she certainly inherited my temper. I've got to go. Take care of her, Gabriel. And Fareeha? Do try not to hurt him too much."
"No promises," said Gabriel and Fareeha in perfect unison. They glared at each other, which made Ana smile. She was sure that those two would get along just fine.
"I love you, Fareeha," said Ana, blowing her a kiss. "And Gabriel?"
"Hm?"
"If you hurt my daughter, I'll make you wish for the mercy of death by omnic."
"I get it, Christ!" Gabriel fell back onto his seat. "Hurry up and go, save Morrison's ass before I have to get up and do it."
Ana cast a nervous glance to her daughter. She didn't like leaving Fareeha with someone that made her uncomfortable, but there was nothing to do about it. There were few men on Earth that Ana would trust to look after her daughter, and Gabriel Reyes fell into that trusted few. She sighed, gave one last wave, then finally tore herself away.
Fareeha and Gabriel stared each other down, neither wanting to speak first.
"So…" said Gabriel, finally breaking the silence. "You… Do you want, like, a coloring book or something?"
"I'm twelve years old," said Fareeha.
"Shit, really? All you kids look the same to me."
"Mother says a man should never swear in front of a woman."
"That's rich, coming from Ana. She cusses more than me,"said Gabriel. He felt a buzz, then touched the communicator in his ear. "Go for Reyes. Mh-hm. The hell?! Tell him… Damn it, I know. Copy that. I'm on my way, over."
Gabriel growled, then reached under his desk and grabbed his two black shotguns. He strapped them to his waist, then grabbed his hat and slipped it onto his head.
"C'mon, kid. I gotta deal with this," grumbled Gabriel.
"What is it?" asked Fareeha.
"A pest…"
Gabriel and Fareeha stepped into the firing range, and area designed for the agents of Overwatch to hone their skills. It was normally occupied by many soldiers and fighters perfecting their range on the stationary targets and mobile training bots.
Today, it was empty, save for a young boy sitting in the corner, tossing a grenade from hand to hand. The brim of his hat covered his eyes, but didn't obscure the plume of smoke coming from the cigarette in his mouth.
"McCree! What the hell do you think you're doing?" demanded Gabriel.
"Trainin' mah arm, sir," yawned McCree. As if to prove it, he chucked his grenade past Gabriel and Fareeha. It landed some ways away before exploding. Fareeha let out a frightened squeak, which made McCree sit up a little straighter. He adjusted his hat to see better.
"Who you?" he asked.
"My name is Fareeha," said Fareeha.
"What's that, Nigerian? Y'all better run off, lil miss. That fella y'all came here with eats lil' girls like you. Gobbles em whole!"
Gabriel faded into dark purple light, reappearing a few feet from McCree.
"He eats more than that, boy. Stop blowing shit up before I make you regret it," he growled. McCree took a deep draw on his cigarette, then blew a large cloud of smoke into Gabriel's face.
"Yeah, yeah, sure thing."
Gabriel grabbed McCree by the collar and tossed him halfway across the room. He grabbed the boy's hat and crushed it in his right hand
"Drop and give me twenty!" shouted Gabriel.
"Aw, c'mon, Gabe, I was just—"
"Fifty! Give me fifty or I burn the hat!"
"1! 2! 3! 4!" McCree quickly dropped down for his push-ups, staring at the girl just a few feet to his left. Fareeha looked at him, shaking her head.
"Somthin' funny, sweetheart?" huffed McCree.
"You do those push-ups like a girl," said Fareeha. Despite the serious demeanor he was trying to put out, Gabriel couldn't help but laugh.
"You think you can do better?" scoffed McCree. Fareeha shrugged, then immediately dropped down into position. With form and technique the likes of which Gabriel hadn't seen in the most promising of his soldiers, the small girl quickly pumped out fifty push-ups. As if to prove a point, she did another fifty before popping back to her feet and dusting off her skirt.
"Well I'll be…" said McCree. "Y'all tryin' to replace me with a little girl now?"
"Hell, I wish Amari would let me replace you with her," scoffed Gabriel. "But Ana doesn't want her daughter to join Overwatch. For some reason."
"Hold on just a second! Yer Mrs. Ana's girl?"
"Mh-hm," said Fareeha. McCree, smacked his forehead with his metal arm in shock. "What happened to your arm?"
"He spoke when he shouldn't have," said Gabriel. "Get up, Jesse. We're going to take Amari Jr. to the firing range. I wanna see what else she's better than you at."
"I don't think mom would be happy with that," said Fareeha.
"A wise man once bestowed this sage piece of wisdom unto me," said Gabriel with a grin. "And that piece of wisdom is 'Mom's not here'."
"Are you certain this is safe?" asked Fareeha, holding a rather large shotgun. Gabriel snatched it from her, then returned it to her grasp, adjusting her grip and aim.
"You'll be fine. When I was twelve, I was already firing off .50 cals and pulse rifles in active combat," said Gabriel. "You can handle a 12 gauge."
"Why ain't nobody tell me that Mrs. Amari's kid was coming?" asked McCree, tossing one of his grenade from hand to hand.
"Maybe if you came to briefings instead of blowing shit up you would've known. Amari. Fire."
"If you say so, Mr. Reyes," said Fareeha, pulling the trigger. The gun let out a resounding boom, sending Fareeha flying back from the recoil. She hit the ground, the gun clattering behind her.
"Ow…" groaned Fareeha, massaging her wrists. Gabriel nodded, as if he expected this, then grabbed the shotgun from the floor.
"Jesse, give me your gun," said Gabriel. Jesse clutched his revolver like it was his child.
"Like hell, man! I ain't lettin' nobody touch my Peacekeeper!" said Jesse.
"I said it before and I'll say it again." Gabriel snatched the gun out of Jesse's hand with very little resistance. "That's a stupid goddamn name." He passed the revolver to Fareeha. "Try this, kid."
Fareeha cautiously took the revolver and aimed it at the target. After letting Gabriel adjust her aim slightly, she pulled the trigger. Again, she stumbled back and dropped the gun, entirely missing what she was shooting at.
"Damn, girl," said Jesse. "Yer aim is shit."
"McCree, I swear to God, I'll-" Gabriel would've continued, were it not for the sudden call he received. He pressed his finger to his communicator, temporarily ignoring Jesse. "Go for Reyes. Uh-huh. Roger that." He headed for the door, leaving Jesse and Fareeha behind. "I'll be right back. Jesse, find her a gun, but don't start firing until I get back. I repeat, do not start firing until I get back. Now say that back to me."
"Do not start firing until you get back," said Fareeha.
"Not you, kid. Him."
"Fine, fine, do not start firing 'til y'all get back," mumbled Jesse. "Now hurry up and get!"
"I mean it, Jesse. Don't start firing until I get back."
Gabriel gave McCree one last glare before slipping out of the room and rushing down the hall. Jesse went to the door and stuck out his head. When he was sure Gabriel was gone, he returned with a grin.
"I got just the thing for you, Fara," he said with a mischievous smirk.
Gabriel sighed, massaging his temples in annoyance. Based on his workload, one would assume that Gabriel was the head of Overwatch. But, as he would never be able to forget, that title belonged to Jack.
"I do all the work around here and Blondie gets all the glory," grumbled Gabriel. "He gets a goddamn statue erected in his honor, I get babysitting duty."
Gabriel continued to complain to nobody as he returned to the firing range. He really hoped Jesse hadn't done anything regrettable. That was one headache that Gabriel didn't need.
He opened the door to the firing range, his eyes wide and his scowl present. Jesse was standing beside Fareeha, helping her aim a massive rocket launcher before instructing her to fire. Fareeha managed to stand her ground as the rocket launched forward and collided with the target.
"JESSE MCCREE!" shouted Gabriel. Startled, Fareeha turned quickly, pointing her rocket directly at Gabriel. In her panic, she fired a rocket off, directly at her babysitter's chest.
The rocket bounced off of his chest harmlessly and clattered to the ground.
"Mr. Reyes!" Fareeha dropped the rocket to the ground and rushed to his side. "I'm so sorry! I didn't meant to… Jesse told told me to and…"
"Listen, kid, you didn't kill anyone this time, so just be careful in the future," said Gabriel. He picked up the dud rocket and tossed it to Fareeha, who caught it easily. "I won't tell if you don't."
"Deal." Fareeha tucked the rocket into her pocket for safekeeping. "You know something, Mr. Reyes? I like you more than I thought I would. I thought you'd be mean and boring."
"And?"
"Well, you're definitely not boring."
Gabriel chuckled, patting Fareeha on the back. Maybe babysitting was good enough. Maybe he didn't need the statue.
"You're not too bad yourself. And cool it with the Mr. Reyes shit, okay?" said Gabriel. "Gabe is fine. Uncle Gabe, if you want." He turned his attention to Jesse, giving him the coldest, evillest glare possible. "And what do I do with you?"
"You could do nuthin," suggested Jesse.
"But that would ruin my reputation," snarled Gabriel.
"I won't tell if you don't."
Gabriel glared at the ever-present thorn in his side that was Jesse McCree. He glanced to Fareeha, grinning slyly.
"Fareeha," said Gabriel. "Do you have anything to say to McCree?" Fareeha nodded, smiling while she did.
"Drop and give me fifty!"
The present day
"What are we watching again?" asked Sombra, reclining on the couch lazily. Despite explicit orders not to, she still laid her head in Reaper's lap as she watched television with her two former Talon terrorists.
"Gelé Par L'amour," said Widowmaker flatly. "The most popular soap opera in France."
"It's terrible."
"You gave the remote, cherie. Change the channel."
"Hold on, I wanna see how it ends." Sombra latched onto every word, obsessed with knowing which man would when the heart of the beautiful Angelica.
"Someone is coming," noted Widowmaker. "Amari. The younger one."
"How can you tell?" asked Sombra.
"I can hear her footsteps."
"Or perhaps because she's standing in the doorway," growled Reaper. The other two looked up and, sure enough, Pharah was in the doorway waiting. "What do you want?"
"Amelie, Sombra, could I have a moment alone to talk to Gabriel?" asked Pharah. Widowmaker stood up and shrugged, not having any real reason to stick around. Sombra, on the other hand, refused to move.
"But Angelica is about to choose who she marries!" complained Sombra.
"I have a TV in my room," said Widow.
"Adios!" Sombra waved her hand through the air and vanished, no doubt reappearing at a Translocator she had stashed upstairs. Widowmaker had no such technology and decided to take the stairs.
"What do you want?" repeat Reaper.
"You don't remember what day it is today, do you?" asked Pharah. "That's okay. I didn't expect you to." She crossed the room and sat next to Reaper. "This is the day we met. Twenty years ago."
"Hm…"
"And I know you don't care, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I wanted to tell you because I wouldn't be where I am today without you," continued Pharah. "If it weren't for you, I'd never would have been a member of Overwatch. And I know things are difficult. Neither you nor Commander Morrison will tell us exactly what happened in Switzerland, but I know it must have hurt. I just wanted to tell you that, regardless of what you did in Switzerland, or with Doomfist, or with Talon… You'll never be my enemy. You will always be Uncle Gabe." She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small box, which she sat on Reaper's lap.
He opened it, lifting up the dented, rusty old dud of a rocket. Reaper stared at it blankly, as if he had never seen it before. He felt Pharah quickly wrap her arms around him in a quick hug before she stood up and turned.
"I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable," said Pharah. "Truth be told, I'm a bit embarrassed."
"I won't tell if you won't."
Pharah smiled, then turned for the door. Maybe Uncle Gabe was in there somewhere.
"Amari." Pharah stopped, turning to face the Reaper. "Drop and give me fifty."
She smirked and dropped down, doing her push-ups slowly so she could savor the memories.
Uncle Gabe was definitely in there. He just needed help getting out.
Author's Note: Now is probably as good a time as any to talk about the timeline of this story. Due to how we're getting plot, I might have to fill in blanks that later get invalidated by canon. If that happens, just bear with me.
Thank you for your understanding.