Damn it, pull yourself together, Winston thought. Overwatch was riding on this. Everything was riding on this.

"Was… there a point to all that?" Volskaya said. "I'm sure whatever it was, there were better ways to get to it."

"I…" Winston said. He was formulating his next desperate attempt to break through. He remembered that he was going to tie the Mindflayer incident into the Omnic Crisis, so he ran through a brief mental history. When it first began, the Omnics went completely berserk, attacking everything indiscriminately. Years down the road, the God Programs took control.

It was at this time that the UN created Overwatch, as the world needed a more unified resistance against a suddenly single-minded threat. Omnics who didn't want to fight were forced to by powers beyond their control. People thought that the Omnics who stopped fighting did so because they knew they were losing. They considered their pleas to spare them, their claims that none of it was because they chose to do it, lies. It wasn't until later that proof came out. The God Programs had total control over Omnics if they were close enough.

But one look back at Volskaya's eyes, and at the facts of the case, and Winston had an epiphany, He realized that he'd been going about this all wrong from the very start. Volskaya remained quiet, seeming to content to wait long as she needed to for Winston to arrive at his conclusion. He decided not to disappoint her any further.

"You already believe in them," said Winston. "You don't believe everything they say about Omnics. You know they're no more cold-hearted than a human being can be. You believe it, or you wouldn't be working with them."

"My people don't," said Volskaya after a moment, she couldn't keep all the sadness and disappointment from her voice. "They still believe that Numbani and places like it are inviting danger again. Whether from inherent character flaws or the susceptibility to a God Program attack."

"But you do," Winston said. "You believe. And your people believe in you. Look around you, look at history, all your revolutions, and ask yourself if anything ever changed because someone waited for it to happen before stepping forward? Answer me this, do you have more faith in Omnics than your own people?"

"You're crossing a lot of lines, Doctor," said Volskaya.

"Then trust them," Winston said, ignoring the comment. She'd shown little emotion, but now rage was swelling in her for the first time. Winston somehow took that as a good thing, though he wasn't certain he should, but he ran with it. "Trust them to follow your lead. The ones who turn their back on you, say you've lost your mind? Those people never supported you, they supported themselves. But people will stand by you. The people who do, those are your real allies."

Volskaya scoffed. "Risk it all? Risk everything? My company, my daughter, Aleksandra, why? Because Overwatch said so?"

"Because this is how we beat the real enemy. Talon wants the world to split apart, Talon wants to show us that we're nothing more than animals. And right now, it looks like they're right. Our paranoia, our pessimism, is making their job easier every day."

"We beat them," Winston said, "by turning it around. We win by pulling together, by trusting each other, by proving them wrong."

Act III

X

Considering the utter chaos that Lena had been told to expect, the flight to the Icebox's helipad was hauntingly serene. Even despite the shrieking razor storm of snow, weather that would have made this flight a suicide run for any normal pilot, Lena remained calm as if nothing were before her but a still, silver ocean. She was late to rendezvous. But she consoled herself that she was making it at all, and with the knowing that whatever time-sensitive plans and backup plans they may have had, they were meaningless now. The Orca touched down on the Icebox's helipad. The snow continued to buffet the hull, as the weather shield was down. Lena stepped outside, carrying a heavy steel case that felt like half her weight, and Jack Morrison was waiting there.

He looked terrible. Bruised and cut, but still standing tall as ever in that way he only did when he was on a mission. His hair had been cut down to stubble, leaving it gray dome with a pale pink crevasse of scar tissue cut through it. Lena saw what must have been the beginnings of tears in the old man's eyes.

"I wasn't gone that long," she said. Jack cleared his throat, not saying anything else. Something had happened. Lena wasn't sure what, but she gave him a smile and a playful punch on his shoulder. The smile faded a bit at the coming of Jack's half-hearted one.

"So…" she said, "This was not the plan."

"Yeah, no it was not," Jack said.

Figuring that getting to business quickly was paramount, Lena said, "Well, we can't just leave it like this, can we?"

Jack sighed, and whatever anxieties had been plaguing him fell away behind the mission. He was nothing if not a soldier. "So far, the options seem to be 'a,' to let a hundred people freeze to death, or 'b,' leave them at the mercy of an angry psychopath. We can't turn the system back on without giving Sombra another chance to take control of it."

They two reached the end of the helipad and entered the facility, the automatic door was already stuck in the open position, and did not close behind them. She opened the case, showing Jack the disassembled pulse rifle inside. "You seem pretty sure of that."

"We tried that," Jack said, kneeling down and setting to work. Building the weapon seemed to put him greatly at ease from the snapping of the first piece.

"Too fast to reset?" Lena considered this, thumb wagging like a metronome in front of her chin. She stopped and said, "There's obviously a backdoor somewhere. That kind of hacking wouldn't be possible otherwise, not if Sombra isn't here."

"I sent McCree down to the server room, but I don't think he knows what he's looking for."

"I might," Lena said. "But if Sombra's been in, we have another problem."

"What now?"

"She'll have all the passwords. She won't be able to get in as fast, but she can still do some real damage. Do you know how to reset the system?"

"No."

"Is there anyone here who does?"

"Yes," said someone else. A man with a red beard, round glasses, and white clothes had entered the room, flanked by two men with riot rifles. The sound of the blizzard outside had obscured his approach, but not their conversation. "I take it you know who I am."

"The Warden. Ferris Mercer," introduced Jack. "He's graciously agreed to shut down the sensors.

"Don't worry about a thing," said Lena. "You'll be up and running again in no time."

The warden chuckled. "You come in here, destroy everything, and then say you want to rebuild it? Why don't I believe you?"

"We did what we had to," said Jack. "You wouldn't have given up Zarya if we'd asked. Besides, this situation could have gotten much worse."

"I'm afraid that's untrue, Mr. Morrison," said the Warden. "In all likelihood, only Zarya would have died, had you not been here."

"The one innocent person in here," Jack said, standing. His pulse rifle, fully assembled, remained pointed at the floor. "That a worthy sacrifice in your book? What about Zarya made you think she ever belonged here?"

"We're making this about Zaryanova? It sounds to me like you've already decided who deserves to live and die. My job, Mr. Morrison, is to keep the people in this facility alive. All of them. Regardless of culpability. Everyone here is equally guilty and dangerous, and yet, we have built a handy facility for them to live in, rather than throw them to the elements."

"That's not what any of us want," said Lena. "As much as we needed Zarya out, we know that this place needs to exist. That's why we're not gone yet. We want to help fix what we've broken."

"You'd be stupid to turn us down," Jack finished. "They call us terrorists now, but you remember what we used to be. We can be that again. Let us prove it."

"Very well then, Supreme Commander Morrison," said the Warden, rather condescendingly. "I don't care for your heroic rhetoric, but you make a good point. What do you suggest we do?"

"You've to stand by here," said Lena. "Reset the security systems," she paused, wincing slightly as she added. "You can do that, right?"

"Of course," the Warden smiled mirthlessly, eyes invisible under the glare of his glasses.

"Until we can find Sombra's backdoor, you need to hold this place," said Jack. "Zarya will assist, but..."

"More men are in order," the Warden finished with a wave of his hand. "I guessed as much. My guards are already on their way here. But I thought you'd already taken care of Sombra?"

"Not Sombra," said Jack. "Mindflayer." Lena blanched at the name. She remembered him from the golden age. She had never fought him herself, and it was something she was grateful for.

"Thaddeus Ellis," said the Warden, gravely.

"B-But," Lena said, "he can't control anyone without his-"

"Helmet? Yeah, I thought so too. I'll explain on the way," Jack turned and said to the Warden, "Be ready, Oxton and I will be back soon."

They left, Lena keeping perfect pace with Jack's disciplined jog, having healed flawlessly. Her mind and heart were racing at the thought of facing the Mindflayer for the first time.

"How do you know all this?" Jack asked.

"Hm?" Lena intoned. She could hardly remember what they'd just been talking about.

"All this computer… stuff," Jack said.

"Oh, Winston taught me a lot. He's a hacker too, like that one time he-" Lena stopped, face turning instantly from white to red. Jack looked back to check if something had happened, if she'd tripped, for instance. But she was fine.

"He what?" Jack asked.

"He didn't do anything," Lena said.

"I think he did," Jack said.

"He didn't…" Lena said, haltingly, "use the black budget to order extra peanut butter and then erase it from the shipping manifest. That's for sure."

"What the-" Surprise, rage, and something else appeared on Jack's face. He nearly tripped himself. "What!?"

Lena blinked forward, running backwards ahead of Jack, she pointed. "That was the old Watch, 'kay love? Doesn't count now."

Jack increased his speed, but Lena was one step ahead of him all the way.

Once they were down in the server room, Lena worried as to how they'd find their friend in this labyrinth of deep darkness and softly glowing neon towers. That is, until she heard the echoing curses from McCree. She followed the profanity like sonar down the paths, and found him kicking one of the servers. Behind him was a towering mountain of meat in a black mask, its eyes were black and glassy like an animal's.

"They don't need all of these servers, do they?" said McCree, bitterly.

"Could smash a few," said the mountain with a hint of a proposition.

"Rhetorical question," said McCree, scratching his scalp. Seeing him bald was positively surreal.

"Right," said the mountain. "Was a stupid question."

"Jess?" said Lena, coming forward into the glow.

"Hey, Tracey!" McCree said. His fingers automatically moved to tip his hat, but he didn't find it there. Lena had already dashed to his side and given him a quick half-hug.

"Merry Christmas," Lena beamed, handing McCree the Overwatch sidearm from the case. He looked it over. Lena knew he was not enthused about the fact that he'd have to fight with a standard issue twelve-shot instead of his Peacekeeper, but there was obviously something bigger on his mind than weapons.

"So," McCree chewed the words. "You're okay?"

"Never better!" She said, smiling a little too brightly. She looked back and forth to Jack and McCree. "You're still not sore about shooting me, are you?"

"No," said Jack, right as McCree said, "Well, yeah."

"Don't," Lena said. "I came up with that plan, so it's on me. And I'm fine. So there's no point in standing around, right? Let's find this backdoor."

Heartened, they began their search anew, combing beneath each server for any tech that was out of place. Knowing Sombra, it would be an out of place purple glow among the blue.

"So who's this?" Lena said. She didn't have to gesture or indicate who she was referring to. The Hog's colossal yet silent presence was constantly on the verge of overwhelming.

"You haven't met," said McCree. "Hog, this is Lena Oxton. You might know her by Tracer."

Hog shook his head. "I don't."

McCree winced. "Lena, this is Hog." Lena nodded. For the first time in her life, being friendly did not come easily, and it wasn't merely the sheer size of this character's being. There was something else, something her subconscious self was aware of that she nearly would be.

"How'd you guys meet, anyway?" Lena asked McCree. Though as soon as she did, the answer smacked her on the side of her brain. There was no other place they could have met.

"Mutual acquaintance," said McCree. "She encouraged me to give him a chance, so… Guess I'm doin' that."

"Dangerous thing, that," said Lena, mutedly.

McCree stopped dead, and when Lena looked at him, she found him staring at her like she'd grown two more heads. "You… Are you pullin' my leg right now?"

"No," said Lena, returning perfunctorily to her search. "I'm just saying it's… It's a two-edged kind of thing, you know?"

"Last time we talked about this, you… You couldn't have given less of a damn about the edges. You were tellin' me to- …Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jess," Lena lied. "I'm fine."

McCree sighed heavily, almost went back to searching, but then he said, "You were late to the rendezvous."

"I'm fine," Lena repeated. Though each repetition lost more of its semblance of sincerity.

"What happened out there?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle. Just a snag. Complication."

"Was it Widowmaker?"

Lena punched one of the towers, squeezing her eyes shut. She collected herself. "It wasn't…" she groaned. "I'm not really that obvious, am I?"

"Mm-hmm," McCree said.

"I could have ruined everything," Lena said. "Because I couldn't keep track of who my friends were. That's what happened. So I guess if you want to give people like him and Widowmaker a shot, go ahead. I can't. I just can't anymore."

"I don't believe a word of that," said McCree. "'Cause that wouldn't be givin' up on her. That'd be givin' up on you. That compassion of yours is somethin' special. Somethin' not a lot of people got."

Lena brushed her hands into the narrow spaces, feeling, searching, trying to seem like she wasn't listening.

"Kid, you can blow me off all you want, but you're not givin' up on this. Not if I'm right about you. You're the one who told me I should put some faith in people, and I think you were right about that. Don't waste time pretendin' like you can just give up that part of yourself. We need you."

So what then? She thought. Keep letting her trick me? Keep getting distracted? Keep risking my friend's lives? Is that what you're asking me to do? What a hollow victory that would be. One saved stranger at the cost of her friends, any one of her friends. Amelie couldn't be that important. Lena shook her head. It did sound rather callous when she put it that way.

Her fingers touched against something unlike what she'd felt under the other servers. She looked closer, it might be a fluke. But there was a tiny glow of purple amongst the blue. She pulled on it, wires coming loose like arcing, shrieking tendrils, and Lena held it in her hand, a quarter-sized skull insignia, purple light fading from it. She waggled it back and forth to McCree, summoning her old, comfortable confidence again to the fore, and smiled.

"Bingo."

That person she'd been to McCree. She hated her. Mostly because she couldn't seem to argue with her. She never wanted to be her again.