A/N: *nervous chuckle* Well, it's been over a year since I updated this. Umm… sorry? I really have no excuse, but thank you to all the people who left reviews, followed, and favorited my story. You guys are the best! Sorry for making you wait so long. Now please don't break my kneecaps. Enjoy! *runs away*

Junkrat flopped back in his seat, swivelling around. He was BOOOOOOOOORED. Roadhog had gone out to get the two of them some food, and he was all out of things to do. He grabbed a bomb from his table, and started tossing it from hand to hand. Frustrated, he threw it into the corner of the warehouse he and Roadhog were camping out in. Spinning back to the table as the bomb exploded, he started making another. Absentmindedly, he switched on a small TV that was sitting on the corner of his table.

"And in continuation of the recent spree of deaths, the body of a young woman was recently found in Dorado, Mexico. Police reports have determined that she had rented a hotel room, and upon investigation, discovered it to be full of high-level computers, prime for hacking. The leading theory is that she was a member of the global terrorist organization, Talon. The police have run DNA scans on her, fingerprint tests, retinal scans, all of it, but have not found any hint of her identity. In other news, the wealthy siblings Redmond and Blutarch Mann have finally put aside their longtime rivalry and are working together for what may be the first time in their lives."

Junkrat leaned back, absolutely stunned as the anchorwoman continued talking about the projects Redmond and Blutarch were talking about. Overwatch is being wiped out? Slowly, an insane grin spread over the pyromaniacs face. That means less people to mess with me and Roadie! He heard the warehouse door open, and his obese bodyguards plodding footsteps, accompanied by the jingling of the chains on his Scrap Gun. The instant he saw Roadhog, Junkrat leapt towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Roadie! Guess what's happening? Go on, take a wild guess!"

Roadhog pushed Junkrat away from him. "How about you just tell me?" he said, his voice muffled by the gas mask on his face. Junkrat pouted. "You're no fun. Fine, fine I'll tell you. People who used to be part of Overwatch? They're getting murdered!" Roadhog shrugged as he plopped their food on the stack of tires that served as their table, then dropped himself onto a stool. "And why should we care about that?" Junkrats jaw dropped. "You're joking, right? Don't you see?! This means less people are going to try and stop us when we go and blow things up!"

Junkrat began giggling as he imagined the carnage they could cause. Roadhog just shrugged. He pulled a burger made of questionable meat out of the bag, then went to take off his gas mask so he could eat. Before he could, the wall of their warehouse exploded. Both reflexively took cover from the chunks of wall flying everywhere. Junkrat snatched his Frag Launcher off of the table, while Roadhog stood up, his hand on the handle of his Scrapgun. As the smoke faded, two figures stood there. Figures that looked very familiar. The Demoman and the Heavy stood in the hole, staring at the two other mercenaries. They had all met a couple times before, due to their careers. Demo and Junkrat had swapped explosive tips, and Heavy and Roadhog had a friendly rivalry, mainly focused on who was stronger. Now though, the two Red mercenaries looked deadly serious.

Demo was wearing his normal gear, and had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a grenade launcher in the other. Heavy however, was wearing some kind of mechanical armor, and had a large hammer in one hand. Junkrat shouted, "Hey, what's the big idea, ya buggers! If you wanted to come in, you coulda just knocked!" Demo shook his head, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Unfortunately, lad, me and the big guy were given a job. We were told to hunt down and kill you two." Junkrat raised his Frag Launcher and scowled, "You don't have ta do this, mates. Just say you couldn't find us. We don't need to fight." Heavy shook his head sadly. "Sorry, little friend. We do not have a choice in this matter. If ve do not kill you, we will be killed ourselves. And you will be killed by others in time."

Roadhog stood up, unslinging his Scrapgun from his back. "Don't forget, Heavy, you haven't been able to beat me yet." The Russian merc smirked. "Yes, but now, this is no holds barred. Also, I have been given wonderful new toys." Holding up the hammer, Heavy hit a switch on the handle, causing the handle to retract.

The head swiveled around, and the handle reattached in two places. The massive hammer had turned into his trusty minigun. "I call this one Revolvter. Because it revolves, and who it is used on end up quite revolting to look at." Ignoring his comrades facepalming, Heavy opened fire on Roadhog without any more banter. Roadhog dove out of the way, his speed belying his massive frame. Snatching his hook from his waist, the massive man flung it out with unflinching accuracy, straight at Heavy's midsection.

Yanking the Russian towards him, Roadhog readied his Scrapgun, only for a grenade to strike his side, knocking him off his feet. Standing up, and brushing off dust from a blast that would have killed anyone else, Roadhog was forced on the defensive by Heavy swinging the Revolvter in hammer form at his head. The fat merc caught it, pushing back against the Heavy. The explosion, of course, came from the Demoman, who until that point had been trading shots with Junkrat, dodging the grenades that came too close for comfort.

But when Demo fired at Roadhog, Junkrat took advantage of his lapse in focus to launch a grenade over Demo's head, angled to bounce towards him, while firing another one straight for Demo's head. The Scottish merc could dodge out of the way of the one aiming at his head, but missed the ricocheting one. Unfortunately for him, it didn't. Knocked forward by the explosion, Demo took advantage of the blast, and snatching his bottle of whiskey from his belt, rolled to a stop, and charged towards the shocked Junkrat, spilling whiskey across the floor.

Junkrat tried to aim his Frag Launcher, but Demo snatched it from his hands and tossed it aside. Junkrat kept backpedaling from the wildly swinging Scot, but eventually hit a massive crate. He closed his eyes and raised his arms...and heard a shattering, and felt no pain. Cracking his eyes open, Junkrat saw the bottle broken, and whiskey covering his robotic arm...Oh right. I have one of those. Junkrat grinned. He threw a wild punch at Demo, which the drunkard managed to dodge. But not the peg leg coming up between his legs. Wincing in sympathy, Junkrat nonetheless kept kicking at the fallen man, a sadistic grin coming over his face. Heavy, still locked in his struggle with Roadhog, saw what was happening to his ally. "Time for games is over." he muttered, looking at Roadhog with a dead serious expression.

"Now you die."

The Russian mimicked the move the previous owner of his armor had used on him, activating the rocket boosters to break the deadlock. Roadhog gritted his teeth under his mask as he used every ounce of his irradiated strength to fight back against the Heavy's push, but he could feel his feet slipping. The Australian released the hammer and dropped to the floor, letting the Russian fly over his head. As Heavy skidded to a halt, he swung the hammer, releasing a wave of fire straight at Junkrat. The pyromaniac looked up to see the wave flying for him, and the next thing he saw was a jumble of floor, ceiling, and crate, then he only saw the crate, since his face was pressed up against it. As Junkrat slid to the ground and Demo staggered to his feet, Heavy turned his attention back to Roadhog. Using his rocket pack to launch into the air, Heavy brought the hammer down. He smashed the hammer across the floor, cracking the ground, red-hot energy radiating from it.

The force of the blast knocked Roadhog off his feet, and before he could get up, Heavy's armored foot was on his hand. "I'm truly sorry, Roadhog. But this was the only way this could end." Raising the hammer, Heavy brought it down, smashing Roadhog's head to a red paste.

"ROADIE!" Junkrat shouted, forcing himself to his feet. "You sons of bitches, I'll kill you! I'll-" Junkrat was cut off by a fist to the jaw, knocking him back off his feet.

Demoman grabbed the skinny Australian by the neck, hoisting him off the ground. "Sorry about this, laddie." Demoman said, somberly. "But hey…" Demo said, pulling a grenade from his belt. "At least you'll go out with a bang."

Ignoring Junkrat's weak kicking, Demo forced the grenade down Junkrat's mouth, wedging it in his jaw so he couldn't spit it out. Dropping him to the floor, Demo backed up, pulling out his sticky launcher. Junkrat screamed in rage, his anger reduced to mere noise, spittle flying from his mouth around the grenade.

Demo launched his sticky grenade right into Junkrat's face, knocking the psychotic Australian off his feet for the third time.

He pressed a button on the side of his sticky launcher, detonating both the sticky grenade and the regular one, evaporating Junkrat in a burst of flame.

Sighing, Demoman turned to Heavy. "Let's go, fatso." He said to Heavy. "We've got to get back to base, and let the twins know that we got 'em." Scowling from the insult, Heavy nonetheless followed Demo out through the hole they had blown in the wall.

Winston was still sitting at his computer. He hadn't slept, ate, had anything to drink at all, in several days.

He was coordinating several Overwatch members across the world, as well as digging through all the evidence he could find to discover who it was who had been attacking Overwatch. No matter how deep he dug, however, he couldn't find any trace of who they were.

These people were clearly professionals, but who were they working for? Could it have been Talon, back again? But there was no way they had enough power back to assassinate high-ranking members of Overwatch.

Torbjörn and Mercy, as much as he respected them, weren't the best suited for combat. But Tracer and Reinhardt? There was no way Talon could be able to take out the two of them. Winston stiffened as he heard heavy footsteps behind him, slowly reaching for his Tesla Cannon.

"I'm not here to kill you, Winston." A familiar gravely voice called out. Winston started, turning around. Standing behind him was a tall man, wearing a blue and white leather jacket, and a metal mask covering his face, with a glowing red eye slit.

"Jack? But...I thought you were dead!" Winston exclaimed.

Jack walked forward silently, and peered over Winston's shoulder. On the screen were the pictures of Tracer, Reinhardt, Mercy and Torbjörn. Behind his mask, Jack scowled. His former comrades, his friends, were murdered.

He had only one thing to do. "Winston. What information do you have on the people who did this?"

Winston sighed. "Pretty much none. They're pros, as far as I can tell. They've left evidence of their attacks, but nothing I can use to trace back to them. Nobody even saw them...nailing up the corpses."

Jack straightened up. "We know one thing. They're only going after Overwatch. Not only that, they went after some of the more visible members. Tracer was a massive hero, Reinhardt was famous for defending people, Torbjörn helped evolve technology significantly, and Mercy was an amazing doctor, not to mention a leader in the biotics field. So if one of the more famous members came back, then they would go after him."

Winston spun around. "Jack-" Jack straightened up. "I need to find some criminals, make a big comeback."

Jack Morrison turned around, revealing the red 76 on his back. He walked over to a gun cabinet, and opening it up, pulled out an old friend.

Checking over the Heavy Pulse Rifle, he slung it over his back. "Winston. You've been a good friend. If I don't come back, don't give up on Overwatch. Keep them searching for the killers."

"Jack. What are you planning to do?" Winston said. Jack paused, looking over his shoulder.

"The only way I'm coming back here is with the heads of the people who did this to our friends." Walking on, Jack Morrison stepped through the door...and Soldier 76 stepped out of the last base of Overwatch.

A/N 2: Well guys, here it is. I hope it was worth the wait of over a year. I will be setting up a regular schedule for writing now, so hopefully, there won't be as long a wait for the other chapters. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my story, and was willing to wait for a chapter, and I will see you guys in the next chapter!...Coming 4099.