*London: Talon Hideout*
In a dark room illuminated by a blue light that is the map of London, Widowmaker studied it carefully with a glass of wine while muffled voices came from the other room.
"Tell me again how did you lose them today?" Moira asked.
"I told you! I saw them running out from the airport and I couldn't call any of you!" SS28 shot back.
"And you didn't follow?"
"You told me to stay in the coffee house!"
As they continue to bicker, Widowmaker circled the most probable locations where they could be hiding.
"You are sure that you can recognize her using only your goggles?" Sigma asked from the window, gazing at the stars.
"I can recognize her anywhere" she replied.
He snorted when another thought came to him.
"What are our Asian 'friends' doing?" he asked, looking away from the stars temporarily.
Without saying a word, Widowmaker pointed to the label 'King's Row'.
"And you are sure not to look for Tracer there?"
"Too much questions, go play with your balls while I work"
"How dare you! Let it be known that I, Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, do not simply play with 'balls'! I dabble with a galaxy within my Hyperspheres! I- Do you hear that?"
Widowmaker roll her eyes as Sigma quickly looked back to the stars, listening to what only he could hear.
"Enough! Did you at least see which direction they went?" Moira said, almost shouting now.
"They took an Express train to King's Cross, that's all I know. Are we done now? I want to watch football"
She could hear a chair being shoved roughly aside, followed by footsteps to the door, revealing an exhausted Moira.
"You best hope she does not discover the Sticky Toffee Pudding" Widowmaker said, crossing out another area as the scientist sat down next to her.
"What am I going to do with her? She is becoming too rebellious" Moira sighed.
"But one thing is more concerning, if she did try to contact us and couldn't, could it be possible they knew we were coming?"
"Impossible, even we do not know what we were doing until we landed"
Widowmaker nodded, but something still does not feel right, there is no reason why their hardware would fail at the most crucial of times...
"Wait... Someone else did know" Moira said suddenly.
"Who?"
"Sombra... She knew that I am coming on this mission"
She saw Widowmaker's jawline clench up.
"And you thought to tell me that now?"
"You don't... You don't think she is assisting them?"
Widowmaker said nothing. As much as she dislikes Sombra, she would not be that foolish.
But with this information, she could not help but think to herself if Sombra have been telling the truth about switching sides.
However, this would make perfect sense that they were given to order to hunt her down alongside Tracer and her friend.
"So what is the plan for tomorrow?"
"What would you do if you return to your country after years of being away?" Widowmaker quizzed.
"Go to a cafe? Stay at home?" Moira shrugged.
"I thought so too, we need to scout these apartments" she said, circling seemingly random clusters.
"Why there?"
"Because her friend looks like from the middle class and these apartments are the most likely places they will be"
"Interesting... So where do we start?"
Widowmaker thought for a moment before pointing her marker at the first location.
"Hyde's Park"
*London: Quillion's Apartment*
"I promise I'll do this favor for you"
First she did not say anything, hesitating to make her request.
Seeing this, Quillion thought to reassure her.
"What? Is the request for me to commit suicide or something? Cause I promised never to do that half a century ago" he joked.
"I know that you have feelings for me, but I love Emily and I plan to marry her, so I need you to help me buy our rings" she said quickly, pushing a thick envelop into his hands.
He felt his heart stop at those words and was barely able to hold onto the envelop. He felt his world began to spin as a numbness grew in his cheeks.
"Everything you need to know is in there, and no one else must know"
"W-When do you need this?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Before Christmas" she said before walking away.
"So next week... Congratulations..." he forced out, feeling his throat twitch painfully as he said those words.
She stopped after a few steps and turned around.
"I am so sorry, but you are the only person I trust here and I know this is cruel. I would never have asked if it wasn't import-"
"I got it, don't worry about it, it'll be done" Quillion replied numbly.
"I'm so sorry Quil, but I really need this" she apologized again, seemingly with genuine sadness.
He stared straight ahead as she leaves the building.
How long he stood there, he does not know, but it felt like eternity.
When he finally decided to close the door, he open the envelop and saw that it is filled with money and a hand written letter.
My dearest friend QZ,
I am so so sorry that you had to do this for me, if the situation is reversed, I do not think I would have done this either. The time we spent together for the past year has been one of the happiest moments of my life at work and I do genuinely care for you as a friend.
But I love her and decided to marry her this Christmas. Work does not allow agents marrying for any reason and you are the only one I trust who could help me buy the rings.
I could not go to the store myself because it is that place,but she has always loved that store and I have decided to propose before my leave ends.
I hope we can remain friends but I understand if this is the last conversation we will ever have.
Your friend,
LO
He read the letter once.
He read the letter twice.
And tore it to pieces.
He emptied the contents of the envelop on the bed and a map of Kings Row fell out alongside the name of the store and ring sizes.
The pent up pain, frustration, jealousy, and anger resurfaced and poured out like a flood. Tears flowed freely from his eyes before the truth that is now laid bare before him, feeling nothing but loneliness and despair in the cold room.
"Why... Why do I feel this?" he asked himself multiple times.
He never made any attempts to be more than friends, he never asked, and he never gave her any reason to give him her affections, let alone her attention.
He was just a good friend.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But the throbbing pain beats with his heart, a deep pain that is worse than broken bones, an endless suffering that drowns away all other emotions, leaving nothing more than a numbing pain.
Trying to pull himself together, he desperately tried again and again to suppress it with cold, emotionless logic.
He told himself how their bond was forged in conflict not peace, how he never really knew her, how he could not make a living in this new world to support them even if he did. There is no reason why he should feel like this.
But each attempt melted before his despair as his mind took to another painful possibility.
Work does not allow agents marrying for any reason.
Was this why she paid so much attention to him? Was this the reason why she spent time with him? The reason why she convinced him to join Overwatch? The reason she protected him? The real reason why he is the bodyguard?
Realization crushed him like a speeding truck. This is the reason then?
She saw him as someone outside of Overwatch. Someone who is naively dependable and she took advantage of it. She needed someone to buy this ring and keep his mouth shut, someone who has no prior loyalties to Morrison or Overwatch.
He began to sob as even logic became his enemy.
If he wasn't so pathetic and allowed himself to be so emotionally attached to someone, he would not be feeling this pain.
If he was not stupid, he would've suspected this from a mile away.
But no, he just had to get attached, just had to blindly trust people like an abandoned puppy.
He sat on the bed, begging for someone to talk to, someone who he knew for sure he could trust. But the only friend he thought he had in this world is nothing more than a manipulator, someone who worked her way to gain his trust for her own needs, knowing full well how he felt.
"Ahmad? Hazir? Oliver? Where are you guys?" he cried through gritted teeth, his face in his hands. He just needs one of them, just one, to talk to.
He does not need answers, he just wants someone to share his pain.
"I could always find mama and papa... They'll listen..." he desperately though... Before he was cruelly reminded that they too are dead.
There is no one. He is to carry this burden alone.
By Christmas.
"By Christmas? How about never?" he nearly shouted out, but he bit his lip and kept his silence.
But a promise is a promise.
"What if... What if I just break one... Just one promise...?" a thought surfaced.
"But I can't..." he said to himself.
"Break one... Just this one..."
Pain shot through his brain as both thoughts battled for supremacy.
To break a promise, it is to break what made him who he is and his pride. If he breaks this one, then what is keeping him from breaking the others? He will no longer be the reliable man he prides to be.
To keep this is to suffer a seemingly eternal regret and inflict a deep cut into his own soul, a cut which he doubts he could recover. If he keeps this one, he has willingly admitted defeat and solidifying that he is not only a failure, but the world's most moronic man.
Which one is he willing to give up? His pride? Or his soul?
The pain accelerated and he began to feel hot. Very hot.
Unable to stay in the room, he threw on his jacket and sunglasses before running out of the building.
*London: Emily's Apartment*
Laying down on the sofa, Lena replayed the conversation in her mind as the pained look in his brown eyes lingered in her mind.
"That was a mistake..." she thought to herself.
She suspected that he has feelings for her and will be hurt when she tells him otherwise, but what she did not expect is that he would be hurt that much.
In her experience, all men have only been physically attracted to her and no more and she thought he would be no different, but the way he said "Congratulations" is laced with a deep pain that scared her.
"He has never tried anything before he knew about Emily" she argued.
If she knew his feelings run that deep, she would never have had planned for this, she never wanted to hurt her friends.
But there is no one else that she could count on.
Angela and Winston are against the idea of being attached during wartime, Genji has become an international criminal, McCree is unreliable, Reinhardt and Brigitte are against the idea marriages due to some honor code they hold, and Torbjorn would insist that he makes one instead.
Which leaves no one else but Quillion, the most honest, reliable and down to earth man she knew.
"Why? Why did he have to like me? I thought he would prefer Brigitte or Mei, heck maybe even Pharah if he had the chance to meet her"
If she was single... Maybe? She is open to different types of relationships, even with an Omnic if it catches her attention.
And he is a man trapped outside of his own time, something she has some experience with.
"No, I shouldn't think like that, I should focus on Emily" she told herself.
It is just unfortunate that the ring store that Emily likes is located next to Mondatta's statue.
Near where Mondatta was shot.
The shot that ignited the Uprising.
The shot that caused the death and suffering of untold millions in the world.
A shot she should've taken.
A shot that could've been caught or deflected by her Chronal Accelerator first before it kills her.
*London*
Quillion marched to the nearby bar, desperate for something to drown the pain, embracing the light rain that is drizzling over London and, combined with the cold winter winds, to cool himself down.
When he reached the bar, he found that many others has taken refuge inside, filling it with laughter and joyous Christmas music, which aggravated him more.
After he bought his drinks, he walked back out to the streets to avoid the happy families or couples who are enjoying the warmth of each other's company.
Though he is shivering, he barely felt the wind that cut through his jacket, but he decided to take shelter anyway in an alley next to the bar.
The contents of the letter, his pain, and his naive promise raged in his mind as he drank the first bottle, emptying its contents almost immediately.
"Oi mate, got a fag?" a man suddenly asked him from behind him, making him jump.
Quillion quickly observed him and saw that it is a homeless man.
"A what?"
"Fag, ya got a fag?" the man's eye narrowed, his voice grew steadily louder.
"Look man, I don't know what a fag is so you better tell me what it is before I..." Quillion replied angrily before stopping himself.
He could not risk exposing Overwatch in any way, especially not from a police investigation over a street fight.
"Get outta here" the man snarled angrily as he walks away, shoving Quillion aside.
"Useless tit..." he muttered.
"Yeah... A useless tit..." Quillion repeated.
As he finished the second bottle, he heard someone shouting in the wind, as if someone is arguing or something.
"Good, not everyone is happy" he thought to himself, relishing the bitterness in himself while popping open the third bottle.
The shouting quickly escalating to screams and the screams started to sound familiar... Too familiar.
"Lena?"
In a flash, he ran towards the apartment block, smashing the bottle in his hands and activated his glasses. The darkness was illuminated with random red figures and the screaming persisted, it is definitely Lena.
"Hang on, I'm almost there" he thought to himself, his makeshift weapon ready.
When he is finally in range, he saw that Lena and Emily are alone in their apartment, Lena is clearly thrashing around while Emily seem to be on top of her.
"No no no! Stop! Stop!" he heard Lena yell.
Is she attacking her?
Running up the stairs to their floor, he kicked the door open, and saw Emily hugging Lena on the sofa, who is now whimpering. Quickly looking around, he saw no signs of a break in or an attack.
"What happened? I swear to God if you hurt her..." he shouted, pointing the jagged glass at Emily.
"She was having the nightmares" Emily replied quickly, unfazed by his entrance.
"What nightmares? Explain!" he demanded.
"Trauma, something must have triggered the memory" she said simply, while her hands continue to stroke Lena's hair, comforting her.
"Why... Why would you do this...?" Lena moaned, desperately clutching the air as if for an unknown person.
"It should've been me... I could have saved him... It's my fault... It should've been me..."
Emily immediately reacted by hugging Lena, whispering "No sweetheart, it's never your fault"
"I couldn't save him... It's all my fault... I wasn't brave enough... Please stop..."
Quillion stood there, not knowing what to do, until Emily looked at him again.
"I think you should go, we will be fine"
He nodded numbly and just as he walked out the broken door, he heard something that broke his heart.
"Don't go Emily... Don't go... I'm scared..." Lena moaned.
"Shh... Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere" she replied.
As he returned to his room, he looked down at the torn letter and remembering the fear carved into Lena's beautiful face, and felt horrific shame as he realized he was an absolute fool to be jealous.
She risked triggering her nightmares because of her love for Emily and in turn, Emily is capable to provide comfort her while this is his second time he froze like a statue.
His friendship with her, his so called "feelings" for her, all seem to pale in comparison to Emily's warm embrace.
With a final glance to their room, he saw that Emily had carried Lena back on their bed, clearly comforting her all the way, something he never thought to do.
He sat down, dizzy, sick, and ashamed.
Though the feeling of despair, pain and anger lingers, a new emotion found its way into him... Gladness... A gladness that Lena found someone who can show her the love she deserves.
Just as he took off the sunglasses, his communicator rang in his pocket, he looked at the name of the caller, which reads:
76
Hello Readers!
Now my Friday nights are going to be occupied, I do not think I will be able to post on Friday nights anymore, so I will change the posting of chapters from:
Wednesdays and Fridays between 8pm-9pm Western Australia Time
To
Tuesdays and Thursdays between 8pm-9pm Western Australia Time