"Morrigan… Morrigan… Morrigan, my child, wake up. There is much to do… We must get started soon."
"Miss Marsh? Miss Marsh, it's time to wake up," the honeyed voice startled you awake and you shot up, panting.
Your pulse pounded in your chest and cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck. 'Where am I? What's going on?' Looking up, you met a pair of worried cerulean eyes, felt fingertips brush against your arms. A familiar camphor-and-tea scent washed over you, and you relaxed.
"Is everything alright, dear?" Angela asked, sitting down on the couch next to you. She raised her forearm, pressing the inside of her wrist against your forehead with a frown. "You were muttering and shaking in your sleep, and you looked rather pale."
You blinked a couple times, trying to remember your dream, or whatever had caused you to wake up in such a distressed state. However, you just couldn't recall anything; your mind was completely blank. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you said, letting Angela do her thing as you looked around, observing your surroundings.
You obviously weren't in the moving truck anymore (you must have fallen asleep without realising it), and instead were seated on a rather plush, royal blue couch inside what appeared to be an office. Dark oak furniture and flooring gave the room a cosy, yet professional feel, and the warm light from the track lighting tracing the edge of the ceiling helped make it feel more welcoming. The walls, white except for the bottom half, which had been painted a darker royal blue to match the upholstery, sported towering bookshelves, filing cabinets, and picture frames, from which, smiling faces looked down on you. You didn't recognise some of them, but there were three which had familiar faces you could connect names to; one was a well-known image of the original Overwatch Strike team - Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Torbjorn Lindholm, and Gabriel Reyes -, the second was of the post-Omnic Crisis members - Dr. Angela Ziegler, Winston, Lena Oxton, Mei-Ling Zhou, Gérard Lacroix, and the strike team members -, and the third was a rather personal picture of Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes during their SEP days. They seemed happy, and the way Gabriel was looking at Jack…
"Where am I?" you asked, drawing your attention away from the room, "and why do all of these pictures have Mr. Morrison in them?"
"That would be because this is his office," a gruff voice responded, alerting you to the presence of another figure in the room. The man sat tall behind the desk behind you, a direction you had yet to look. A mask covered his lower face and a visor sat over his eyes, yet, you knew immediately who it was.
"Soldier: 76," you whispered, eyes wide with awestruck wonder as you turned your body towards him, unable to tear your gaze away from the white haired man who appraised you. "I've read about you in the papers, but I never thought I'd actually meet you in person. You're with Overwatch?"
Angela snorted, quickly covering her mouth as you both looked over at her. "S-Sorry. Miss Marsh, you seem to be fine, so I'll take my leave. I will need you to drop by my office later so I can perform a routine medical exam for your file." She stood and turned to leave.
"Thank you, Angela," the old soldier called after her, nodding as she left, leaving you alone with him. "Am I with Overwatch?" he echoed, chuckling as he folded his hands on the desk. "I suppose you could say that. Truthfully, I never really left, not at my heart. But, that's beside the point. I want to talk about you, Miss Marsh. I've heard quite some tales from Angela and McCree about you. That was very brave of you, standing up to Roy Adams like that."
You fidgeted, uncomfortable with his gaze on you. "Um, y-yeah, I suppose it was…"
"Why?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.
Your brows furrowed. "S-Sir?"
"Why did you do it? Did you know it was us from the beginning? Why risk your life to get the information to McCree before you'd even known it was him?"
Ah. So this was an interrogation. Great.
'Don't blow this, Briallen…' You shook your head. "I-I don't know, sir. No, I did-didn't know it was you from the-the beginning… You see, sir, I'm a-a big, um, a big nerd, so to speak, and when-when they mentioned Overwatch and-and I got that call, well, I figured, er, hoped that it would be you… I also, um, I'm a huge fan of Overwatch, so-so once I heard Mr. McCree's voice, I-I knew it was you…"
The soldier let out a sigh and slouched in his seat a bit, unfolding his hands. While you couldn't see his face, you could hear the gentle smile in his voice. "Easy, soldier. There's no need to be so nervous around me. Take some time to think about what you're going to say and then say it, no need to rush."
Your eyes widened and you cleared your throat, looking away. You hadn't realised you'd been stuttering, or how nervous you were; your hands were shaking badly and your heart trembled in your chest. 'Alright, calm down, Briallen. Just, deep breath…' Closing your eyes, you took a second to compose yourself, taking in a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth before looking back up at him.
"As to why I risked my life to get the information to Mr. McCree…" you continued, your gaze drifted as you thought, landing on a picture of Jack Morrison amidst a group of people, all of which looked very similar to him. His family, no doubt. 'They must have suffered more than the rest of the world when Mr. Morrison died… He had to have meant a lot to them.'
"I… There are a lot of people out there who are in desperate need of heroes, Mr. Seventy-Six," you said, your eyes turning to a framed cut-out of a newspaper article on the beginnings of Overwatch, "and without Overwatch, I don't think there are many people who would be willing to help them. People out there are suffering, a lot more than I am at any given point in time, and we don't really give much thought to them, but Overwatch does." Your gaze turned back to the old soldier before you, hardened with determination. "The reason I risked my life to get that information to Mr. McCree is the same reason why I gave up everything I've known to be here today, sir; I want to help people, in any way that I can, even if that way is to sneak a bit of info into a phone call or simply to make coffee for the people who do all the real hero work out there. There are lives at stake that are worth a lot more than my own, people out there who could do great things if only given the chance. Who's going to help them if we don't?"
The soldier laughed, a deep hearty rumble that made you blush and look away quickly. Had you said something funny? No, you didn't remember doing so… Was he laughing at you? You bit your lip, gaze trained on the ground as you grew uneasy, nerves beginning to rush back to you.
"I'm sorry, Miss Marsh, forgive me for the outburst," he said finally, clearing his throat as he gathered himself. "I just wasn't expecting such a heartfelt response. Something along the lines of "I felt it was the right thing to do" would have been just fine, but you went above and beyond. Please, come sit at the desk." He sat up and motioned toward one of the plush oak chairs sitting in front of the desk, where you promptly moved to, curious.
"Before you can begin your job, there are a few things I must discuss with you. First, because of your unfortunate involvement with Arachnid a few weeks ago, once your files are finished transferring into Athena's database, they will have to be deleted from the government's database. We can't have you tracked back here, one for your own safety, and two for the safety of everyone else who works here.
"Second, you will find that, unlike the other faculty who work and live here, your quarters will be among the lower levels, down with the agents you so fondly call "heroes". This is due to your need to work closely with the agents to ensure everything goes smoothly, whether it be transference of data for file updates, delivering a message, or, should the need arise, your attending to them while in-service. You have already met agents Ziegler, McCree, and Zaryanova, I would advise you to become personally acquainted with the rest of them.
"Third, because of the possibility that you will be out on the field with an agent, it will be necessary for you to receive some form of combative training. From the security footage, I have noticed you seem to already have a small amount of military-grade training, which is strange, seeing as your government files mention nothing of being part of any military branch, but, nevertheless, you will still be required to go through some training. I will be assigning an agent to teach you what they can. It is up to you to determine how much you learn from their teaching. I suggest you take everything they say to heart. You never know what might be useful in a pinch.
"Lastly, you will be required to wear some form of uniform while on duty, unless you are out on the field. You have a meeting with one of our tailors after this to get your measurements and a temporary uniform for you to wear until your uniforms are done being put together. After you're done with that, one of our available agents will give you a tour around the building. You aren't expected to memorise the layout right away. Tomorrow, during your meeting with Winston to discuss your duties, you will receive your on-base communicator, which will already have the names and numbers of our agents, as well as a map of the facility."
Your head swam with all the information you'd just received. It was quite a bit to take in, but you somehow managed it, giving the soldier a small nod when you were sure you'd stored the information safely away.
He must have been able to see the brief struggle flash across your face because he chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Miss Marsh, all of this will be re-explained to you during your interview with Winston. Do you have any questions for me in the meantime?"
"A few," you said truthfully, sorting the few questions in your mind into a prioritised order. "How many people am I answering to for this job? I was under the impression that I would be assisting one person, but the way you explained everything just now makes it sound like that's not the case."
"Per your job description, Winston and I are your bosses. You are not under any legal obligation to answer to anyone else," he replied, chuckling again. "If you are in the field with another agent, you'll follow either mine or Winston's orders first and foremost, and the agent's only in the circumstance that it either doesn't conflict with our orders, or the situation requires you to follow theirs or put yourself in danger. But, as we will not be sending you on any high-profile or life-threatening missions, the latter is very unlikely to happen."
You nodded, less confusion clouding your mind now, though you still had a couple questions for the older man sitting before you. "How am I to address everyone? Just so I don't insult anyone my first day on the job."
You felt there was a smile behind his mask as he answered you. "However you feel best. If they are uncomfortable with it, they'll let you know and give you an alternative."
"What about you, sir?"
"Me?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.
"Is there something in particular you'd like me to refer to you as?" Your eyes instinctively scanned his face for emotion, though you knew you'd find nothing besides, perhaps, a crinkle on his forehead. You were eager to hear his response, after all, "Mr. Seventy-Six" sounded a bit weird.
He was strangely quiet for some time before he answered, something strange and unidentifiable in his voice. "Commander is fine, Miss Marsh. I think that's enough questions for now, you don't want to be stuck in this stuffy office all day. Eugene? You can come in now."
You jumped, turning to watch as a tall, slender man stepped into the office, holding the door open behind him. Brown eyes sparkled down at you as he grinned. "Is zis ze new employee, Commander? She has a very lovely stature, and zat figure!"
"Yes, Eugene, this is Miss Marsh. Treat her as well as you would any of our agents," Soldier:76 laughed, gesturing towards you.
Understanding that you were meant to follow Eugene out of the room, you nodded and stood. You wanted to stay and ask the Commander more questions, but, with the way he had dismissed you so quickly after the last one, you got the feeling he wanted to be left alone.
Eugene gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as you came to stand beside him. "You wound me, sir! When have I ever mistreated a lady?" Turning to you, he asked, "Are you ready, Mademoiselle Marsh?" His smile widened when you nodded. "Zen, right zis way! What kind of excerzise do you do? Your waist is so slim!"
Your uniform was pretty and formal while still remaining comfortable; a variety of gentle, flowy, or ruffled shirts in varying shades of white, all paired with the famous "Overwatch Blue" in the form of a skirt or blazer, and a pin that bore the Overwatch sigil.
Eugene had been sweet, complimenting you at every turn, making you blush and avoid looking over at him. Thankfully, he didn't take it any further than passing compliments, and you were released within the hour. He gave you a couple directions; down the hall to your right, take two lefts, but not three, three and you would be completely lost, take the elevator up four floors, then take a right into the double doors to your left. That was where you would find your guide. It almost sounded like a medieval quest by the way he told it to you.
The room you entered seemed to be a mess hall, filled with plenty of people, all of which were dressed in uniforms with the same version of the Overwatch Blue you'd had to try on for the past hour. These must be some of the other faculty the Commander had mentioned, you reasoned, glancing around as you bit your lip. You felt awkward. No one had looked over as you walked in, so you didn't feel any eyes on you, but you couldn't help but think about how the hell you were going to find your guide in this crowd. You couldn't go around asking each and every person "Are you my tour guide?", that would just be… awkward.
Upon looking around, you noticed the people seemed to be whispering excitedly to each other, staring over at a corner of the room where a more condensed crowd seemed to be huddled.
'What's going on over there?' you wondered, stretching your neck to try to see around the crowd, and suddenly found your gaze meeting a pair of eyes from across the room. Your heart caught in your throat. 'Tracer.'
The Brit grinned broadly over at you and stood, quickly saying something to the group around her. You could practically feel the sad groan of the crowd as she made her way through it straight over to…
You.
Your eyes widened when she reached out and took your hands into hers, looking excitedly up into your eyes. "You must be the new assistant Winston was talking about! I've heard a lot about you! Did you really take out Roy Adams by yourself?!"
You couldn't help but smile and blush at her enthusiasm, something about her negating your normal awkwardness. "Um, it was purely self defense, but, yeah, I did…"
"That's absolutely wicked!" she beamed, squeezing your hands. "You'll have to tell me about it later! For now, we've got a tour to do!"
"Aren't you forgetting something, Lena?" a man asked, coming up beside her and laying a dark hand on her shoulder, quirking an eyebrow up at her.
You felt your hands get a bit sweaty and your knees become weak as you looked up and met the coffee-brown gaze of the new arrival. Lucio Corriea dos Santos was standing before you. The young revolutionary leader who aimed to improve the world through his music. You couldn't count how many times you'd listened to his music at full volume on shitty days, couldn't even begin to describe how much he'd inspired you when you'd first woken up in the hospital. You'd save up a year's worth of wages just to get the cheapseats at one of his concerts when he was in London last, and you'd never smiled more than when you were there.
And here he was, in the flesh, meeting your gaze, smiling at you, as if you were equals. You, a simple assistant who meant nothing to anyone.
Lena suddenly dropped your hands as hers flew up to her cheeks. "Blimey, I nearly forgot! Thanks, Lucio!" Holding out a single hand, she grinned down at you. "The name's Lena Oxton, though, you probably already knew that."
Snapping your gaze away from the DJ, you quickly shook her hand. "B-B-Briallen Marsh."
Lucio's eyes widened and he looked at you in surprise, his lips quirked up into a smile. "No way! You're Briallen Marsh?"
You blushed and nodded a bit, brushing your bangs back. "Um, yeah… you-you-you've heard of me?" The thought made your heart soar; your idol knew who you were? You, a nobody?
His smile widened and he nodded. "Of course I have! You sent me that letter a few years back when you were in the hospital. That sucks that you had to go through that, but I'm glad my music could be of some help."
Your blush deepened and you looked away, smiling in spite of yourself. He actually remembered the letter you sent about a week into your stay at the hospital in Switzerland? The letter had detailed the events you'd been told that caused your amnesia, and how you'd fallen into a deep depression until you'd discovered him and his music, how he'd inspired you to keep moving and made you want to do some form of good in the world, no matter how small.
"I'm… flattered that you-you remembered. It-It meant a lot to me when you-you sent me that re-reply," you managed, sure your ears had turned red.
Lucio laughed, shaking his head. "Of course I remembered! It's not everyday you get a letter from an amnesiac saying that you've become an inspiration right off the bat! But, look, you're here now, doing some good in the world like you said you wanted to!" His grin was wide, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. The look on his face and the way he talked about you made your heart swell; he really cared about his fans to a personal extent, it was clear in how proud he seemed to be of you.
"Well, I-I wouldn't say I'm the one doing the good in the world here, I mean," you gestured to the two heroes standing in front of you, "you're the heroes here, not-not me. I'm just an assistant."
"Aww, rubbish!" Lena interjected, taking your hands again. "Don't be so humble, Briallen! We may go out and do all the fighting, but we wouldn't be able to do it without everyone back here! In their own way, everyone who works with us is a hero as well!"
"Lena's right," Lucio said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't put yourself down just because you aren't on the field. Trust me, I'd rather not have to do that, but it's what I can do to try to make a difference. You're working with Overwatch now. You're putting yourself on the line to work for a technically illegal organisation bent on saving the world. That makes you a hero in my book."
You couldn't help the smile that broke across your face, feeling bashful under their words and gazes. You supposed you really were doing something worthwhile, working for them, even if it was just as an assistant. "O-Okay, fine, I'll accept the title, only if you guys will accept "superhero". I mean, you two practically are superheroes, what with you going out to fight evil and all that."
"Superhero," Lena echoed dreamily, casting her gaze out toward what you later would find wasn't an actual window, but a holoscreen that mimicked the first floor above-ground. " 'S got a nice ring to it!"
"Yeah, it sure does. Come on," Lucio uncrossed his arms and waved you two along, "let's get on with the tour. I'm sure you're dying to know where everything is."
An hour and a half later, your head spun. There were so many rooms and floors of the compound that you worried you'd never be able to remember where anything was. Thankfully, most of the offices you'd need to visit often were on a secured level that only you and the agents could access. Turns out, you'd woken up on that level, having left it with Eugene to get fitted for your uniform. You followed Lena and Lucio down to a deeper series of levels, about three floors below the first secured level.
"Aaaaand this is your room!" Lena said, dragging you over to one of the doors down the hallway. "It's a bit strange that 76 decided to give you a room in the agent's quarters, but that means we get to spend more time with each other! Go ahead! Open the door, luv!"
"Um, how do I do that?" you asked, furrowing your brows as you looked at the door in question. It seemed perfectly nondescript, just your basic metal door without a handle. As far as you knew, it could have just been another piece of the wall inlaid in this piece for reasons you wouldn't be able to understand.
"Use your card, silly! There's a scanner right there, you see it?" she asked, pointing to a small square in the middle of the supposed door. "Just hold your card up to it and the door will open, simple as that."
"Card?" you echoed, turning to look at her in confusion. "Uh, sorry to burst your bubble, Miss Oxton, but I never got a card…"
Lena's eyes wide and she frowned. "Really? That's strange, Winston's normally really good at remembering the little things. Have you seen him today?"
You shook your head. "No, Mr. McCree and Miss Zaryanova helped me move my furniture out of my apartment this morning, and I met with the Commander just a couple hours ago, and then with Eugene to get fitted. I haven't seen anyone else besides you two," you said, gesturing to the two standing beside you. "I have a meeting with him first thing tomorrow morning, though."
"Well, maybe Winston had other things on his mind," Lucio offered, giving a small shrug. "He is kinda busy, I mean, Briallen being here is proof of that."
"Hmm, you're right. Better give him a call, though, just in case. Maybe he can send me a photo of it," Lena said, shaking her head as she pulled out her com and quickly dialed the gorilla. A couple seconds of silence ticked by before she let out a sigh and pulled the phone from her face. "No answer. Blimey, he must be really busy today! Well, in a case where you don't have your card on you, Athena, our ever present and lovely AI, can help you with that. Athena?"
"Hello, Lena, how can I help you?" the soft, disembodied voice came from the ceiling, making you jump.
"It seems Miss Marsh here doesn't have her card on her. Could you open the door for us?"
"I would love to help you, Lena, but I'm afraid that isn't possible. Miss Marsh has not been given access to her room yet. Have you spoken with Winston?" Athena replied, her voice somehow sounding as if she felt saddened by this fact.
Lena sighed. "No, I tried giving him a ring, but he didn't answer his com."
There was a couple seconds of quiet before Athena responded again. "Strange, it appears I have been temporarily prohibited from viewing Winston's office. I am sorry, Lena, it appears I cannot help you with this."
"No worries, luv, that just means Briallen here gets to spend the night with one of us! Ooh, how exciting!" Lena practically vibrated where she stood, grinning broadly.
"I do not mean to offend, Lena, but perhaps Miss Marsh would feel more comfortable in Mr. Santos' room. After all, there would be no possible chance of any sexual advances in his care."
Lena turned a bright red, her brows furrowing in embarrassment as Lucio laughed. "Athena, just because I like girls doesn't mean I'm going to shoot at every bird I see," she protested, giving you a nervous glance. "I only just met her, after all."
You couldn't help but chuckle softly, your cheeks also turning a bit red at even the thought of anything remotely like that happening between you and Lena. Yes, she was cute, but, as she'd said, you two had only just met and you barely knew her. There'd be plenty of time for figuring out things like that later.
"My apologies, Lena, was I too forward? I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Should I adjust my protocol?"
"I think all of us would appreciate that, yes, thank you," came Lena's response as she ran her fingers through her bangs.
"I… I think I should stay the night with Mr. Santos-" you began.
"Lucio," he corrected, shaking his head. "Don't make me feel like an old man, now, Briallen. We're the same age!"
You ducked your head sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Er, Lucio, Miss Oxton-"
"Oh, luv, just call me Lena. There's no need to be so formal!"
"Uh, right. Well, I think I should stay the night with Lucio, just so we can have some time to put this, er, embarrassment behind us," you said softly, shifting your weight.
"Aww, lighten up, Lena. It's not the end of the world!" Lucio teased, giving her a slight nudge when she pouted. "There's always next time."
"I suppose there is. Well, seeing as you can't get into your room, you're going to need a change of clothes," she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed you a bit, making you grin a bit nervously.
"That's alright, Lena, I can give her one of my hoodies to wear for tonight and let Eugene know that she's going to need one of her uniforms by tomorrow morning." Lucio placed a warm hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She'll be fine."
You took a deep breath, trying not to flinch under the physical contact. Today had been a long day, what with moving and touring the facility and literally meeting your hero. You had a good feeling about working here, especially if all of your coworkers were going to be as friendly as these two. Perhaps choosing to give up everything you knew to come work here was the right call after all.
"What is this about, Jack?" Winston asked, folding his hands on his desk. "I was all onboard with hiring Miss Marsh, especially after what I'd seen with the Roy incident, but this…" he paused, gesturing to the added files on her record displayed on the hologram in front of him. "Specialised combat training between you two, supervised by Angela, a room on the agent's level, authorisation to accompany agents out onto the field… What is this, Jack? Who is she?"
The old soldier looked over, blue eyes lit up by a light Winston hadn't seen in the old man for quite some time. The way he smiled softly, rubbing at his chin as he turned, letting out a soft chuckle… Jack knew something, something big, something game changing. "It's… a long story," he said dismissively, shaking his head. "Suffice to say, I've known her since she was a child."
Winston frowned, adjusting his glasses and dismissing the holo. "Start from the beginning, then. I want to know everything."