"Under no circumstances!"
Amélie scowled and flexed her fingers, balling them into fists until the skin on the back of her knuckles began to pale. She stood face to face with the doctor who had been taking care of her health for the past three weeks now, and if she was completely honest she was at the point in time where she wanted nothing more than to be free from her grasp.
It was one thing to keep her here while her body healed from the inside out, it was a completely different thing to her wants and desires being snatched from under foot. She could feel her joints and muscles pulling and aching, itching with a need to stretch out and pursue an opponent.
Lena, being the sweet young woman she was, had let her know that her sniper rifle was in the weapons storage cache in the South wing. Through Amélie's reasonable knowledge of the layout of the base they were currently residing in, she was 87% sure she knew exactly where that was and how to get to it; it would be naïve to assume they would just give her her weapon back and send her on her merry way.
However, she had attempted regardless. Very nonchalantly even, getting out of bed and standing up straight before Angela Ziegler with the most intimidating and cold expression she could muster.
"I have been your pet science project for long enough," pausing just enough for emphasis, she blinked slowly. "I demand you clear me for combat and return my weapons and armour to me immediately."
Amélie had felt quite pleased with herself upon witnessing the absolute shock on the dear doctor's face, her eyes bulging and her lips falling open in horror as if she had just burst in upon Amélie and Lena in the throws of passion. Very quickly the horror had crept up on Amélie instead, the doctor's face turning in mere seconds to that of impending wrath, giving her just a taste of one of the very reasons why this woman was in such a high position of power in the first place.
That day she had learned that Angela was not all soft hands gently re-wrapping bandages and cheerful smiles to every nurse she passed, even when her eyes were rimmed with dark bags from another busy night and only four hours sleep.
Angela had pressed herself into Amélie's space in a single stride, eyes ablaze with the fires of a thousand suns that for the briefest of moments made the sniper regret opening her mouth in the first place. A foot stepped back; she managed to catch herself before falling off balance.
"Do you think I so easily forget who you are and what you are capable of?"
The words were fast, sharp like needles puncturing her tender flesh. A nimble forefinger reached out, jabbing Amélie in the chest with enough force to leave her skin stinging.
"I do not judge," the doctor shook her head, face softening then and her brow crinkling. She looked older, tired. "Not like the others. You do not hear the things they whisper. For that you should be grateful."
Amélie paused, swallowing as a pit formed in her stomach and the world around her suddenly felt like a swirling void prepared to suck her down into nothingness.
"But you are my patient, first and foremost. You are no soldier, no assassin," Angela's voice softened, her hand brushing up and curling around the French woman's shoulder, squeezing. "Your body may well be on its way to recovery, but your mind is not. You have many mental scars you must overcome before holding a rifle once more."
Leaning back from Angela, Amélie squared off her shoulders and set her lips into a tight scowl, not wanting to give this woman an inch.
"You do not know me at all, dear doctor," Amélie scorned, the seething anger in her voice evident at the end of her sentence, her eyebrows lowering. Her amber eyes flickered over Mercy's form, sliding up and down her body, sizing her up.
Momentarily, Angela flinched, taken off guard.
"I could snap you in two if I so desired," she rolled her shoulders, her scowl flattening out once more into neutrality. "Lucky for you the only ones I seek justice against will take me far from you and the rest of Overwatch."
The two regarded each other for some time, judging the others motives and waiting for something that might eventuate; violence or otherwise. After a good ten seconds though, Amélie straightened her shirt- it was a pale grey tank Lena had leant her, it was a little snug on her figure- and let out an airy laugh.
"You are not worth my time."
In that brief moment, Angela's face fell; she seemed disappointed, her eyes dimming and the tiredness returning to her features. She merely stepped to the side, no longer blocking the doorway of the small quarters Amélie had been transferred to.
"Fine then, against my better judgement. Leave, if it's so what you wish."
Feeling rather satisfied with the results of her intimidation, Amélie retrieved a coat from the small, hammock like bed on the left side of the room, slipping it over her arms and heading towards the exit; all while under the constant watch of Angela's eyes. She could feel them burning into her, judging her, even when she could not see them.
So, she ignored it, pushing past her and moving to exit the room.
"And what shall I tell Lena?"
Pausing in the open doorway, Amélie's hand reached out and found the door frame, grasping it tightly in order to hold herself in place lest she change her mind in that moment. Tightly clenching her teeth together, she did not turn to face Angela as she spoke.
"You will tell her nothing, doctor."
Silence. Angela was likely nodding her agreement but Amélie would never know as she did not turn to look. Her slender fingers drummed on the slick, cold metal of the doorway, her thoughts beginning to run rampant and she knew she had to make her way out of there.
She inhaled quickly, the sound catching in her throat and revealing far more to listening ears than she had wished.
"It is the only way to protect her."
Letting go, she pulled the jacket tightly around her frame and took off down the hallway, focussing only on the ground beneath her feet and refusing to let images of a small brunette flutter through her mind.
Amélie Lacroix had one job to do, and she was determined to do it. She had ditched the overly perverted armour that Talon had controlled her into wearing, finding instead thick black pants and a sweater that had carbon fibres wound throughout the fabric, offering an extra layer of protection. She had considered a bulletproof vest to top it all off, but the extra weight and bulk would make it much more difficult for her to move silently and efficiently, and so she had foregone it.
No, so long as she remained hidden from sight, it would be incredibly unlikely that she would end up in the direct line of fire.
She did not have access to the funds she previously did when she was under the thumb of Talon, and so she had used her considerable skills to steal any money necessary from businesses, deep in the middle of the night. Lena would probably be somewhat proud of her, at least; she had only stolen from the wealthy, and not from the hard working family businesses that struggled to pay their rent.
It had only been a few days since she had gathered her rifle and left the relative safety of Overwatch, but already she felt a keen sense of emptiness. She had, in a sense, grown rather fond of the over protective eye of Angela and the daily visits from Lena. Especially when said visits gave her an excuse to be dragged outside into the fresh air, wandering the gardens and listening as Lena rambled on about the mischief she had gotten up to on her patrol earlier on in the day.
In fact, it wasn't unpleasant at all.
If it had been anyone else, she likely would have threatened to shut them up via crushing their throat. However when Lena was speaking in her soft, Soprano voice, giggling as she recalled a rather lewd joke she'd told Lucio the previous afternoon, Amélie found herself even smiling on the occasion and sharing affectionate glances with her companion.
Tightening the Velcro clasp on her gloves, she let out a soft breath, staring down at her pale fingers and reminding herself why she was doing this; why she had to leave Lena behind.
A storm would be rolling in in a few hours, giving her the perfect opportunity for cover. She had been tracking a lower ranked Talon sergeant for two days now, the man was careless enough when leaving the base that it was far too easy to track him to his place of residence. Now, she just needed to wait it out until he was in his home, all comfortable and alone; the rumbling of thunder and clattering of rain would provide all the noise she needed to drown out any sound that might come from her assassination.
Amélie peered out the window, that's if you could really call it a window. A yard two houses down from her target's home had a tree house in its backyard, and it seemed the family were away on vacation, as far as she could tell. No one had come or gone, and it was the perfect vantage point over her target's bedroom and kitchen windows.
All she had to do was wait.
The only problem with waiting now was that it gave her mind time to become distracted, to think of things other than her task at hand. Something she could never do before Mercy saved her life and removed the evil that had been planted inside of her body.
Her back was pressed firmly up against the wall opposite of the window, staring at the stained timber that had been used to build the tree house. There were a few splinters here and there, and some of the nails were crooked. No doubt some poor parent had spent hours toiling away to build this hideaway for their young child.
The last remnants of daylight started to slip away as a thick layer of coal black clouds rolled across the horizon, swallowing up the sun and any light it might have to offer the city. Blankets of grey fell in the distance, approaching rains that looked like a fine sheet of silk. Amélie watched, listened, the excited warbling of a family of birds nearby lulling her until she found her eyelids growing heavy.
Her arms crossed over her chest, hugging against her body. She shuffled up against the wall, hoping that sitting up more straight would help to keep her alert, but it was not long before a cool breeze caressed her cheek and her eyelids fell shut.
Amélie's head bobbed, eyes opening, she craned her neck upwards until her gaze met Lena's. The brunette was looking down at her, wearing a gigantic grin and a rosy tint to the apples of her cheeks.
"Did ya' feel it that time?"
Nodding, Amélie's eyebrows almost reached to her hairline, the flat of her palm cupping over the bulge of Lena's stomach and waiting expectantly to feel another jolt against her. It didn't take long, the gentle 'thump thump' of Lena's heartbeat and gurgling of her stomach eventually gave way to the sensation of yet another bump, this time against her fingers.
"Oof, me bladder!" Lena exclaimed, her knees retracting upwards in response and squeezing together. "Bleedin' 'ell she's gotta' set a' legs on 'er."
Although she truly did feel sympathetic towards her pregnant lover, she could not help but to let out a soft chuckle, fingers sliding softly over Lena's belly and delicately tracing down the stretch lines that began to grow a little more every week.
"Does ma chérie need to... oui oui?"
There was a lengthy pause, Lena holding her breath, perhaps staring at Amélie in absolute disgust.
"I bloody hate you sometimes."
A soft mumbling, she crawled up Lena's body until her head came to rest in the warm little nook between arm and breast, closing her eyes again and smiling to herself as she felt Lena's fingers intertwine with her own.
"Surely if you hated me so, you would not commit to create life with me, mon amour."
Another hand, this one finding its way through the tresses of her endless black hair, threading through it at a gentle pace and occasionally brushing along her scalp. The sensation was warm, comforting. Although Amélie was much longer than her partner, she found a way to wind her legs around Lena's, weaving them together to make any kind of escape impossible for the smaller woman.
Lena wriggled in her arms, her brow crinkling in discomfort as Amélie felt another kick against her hand.
"She is strong." Amélie remarked, using the palm of her hand to caress over the stretched out skin and soothe both her lover and their unborn child. Lena let loose a single laugh, the sound dry and sarcastic.
"Just like you yeah?"
It was Amélie's turn to laugh, her own being soft and musical.
"And perhaps bright, like you."
A metallic beeping began to fill the air, chirping from Amélie's wrist. The brunette pouted in protest, the French woman freeing herself enough from the intimate moment in order to bring her wrist up close enough to see why her Comms were alerting her. Pulling up the message, her face illuminated with the soft glow of blue, not so dissimilar from that of Lena's chronal accelerator.
"Désolé, mon amour, it appears my skills are required for the evening."
An eyebrow quirked, Lena's lip curving up ever so slightly into a teasing smile.
"Well tell 'er to bugger off, that skilled tongue of yours is all mine."
Despite how long they had been together for now, the Brit never failed to find a way to make her blush like she was a teenager all over again. The redness spread all the way to the tips of her ears, the teasing she knew would be inevitable unless she found a way to counter Lena's statement.
"Riling up your lover before a mission, hmm? I suppose you want me to take care of myself without you, oui?"
It worked. Lena's expression dropped to one of absolute horror as though she had just received the worst threat imaginable; to be fair, it was pretty high up on the list of terrible threats.
"What? That's not fair!" the brunette whined, wriggling into a sitting position while watching the raven-haired woman stand up and head to the adjoining bathroom. Amélie turned, a cocked eyebrow and a flicker in her eyes beckoning to her lover.
"If only I had a woman who wished to lend me her hand."
Long, slender arms lifted her shirt over her head, a pulse of heat travelling through her body as she watched Lena's eyes darken with lust and take in the sight of her bare back.
It's quite possible she had never seen the Brit get out of bed so fast in her entire life.
Time seemed to slip and fade, shapes twisting into a smoky blur of nothingness before pale shades of navy, purples and orange began to fill her vision.
"Maman! Maman!" small hands pressed into her shoulder, shoving her and rocking her quite literally out of an incredibly sound sleep.
Her eyes cracked open, greeted by a soundly sleeping Lena facing her, lips parted slightly and snoring just loud enough to irritate Amélie. How was it that that woman could sleep through almost anything while she was left being awoken at even the slightest sound made in the house?
"Maman get up! You promised to take me to the zoo today!"
"I am up," Amélie mumbled as she rolled over, though she was fairly certain that her eyes were only half open and the wisps of a lovely dream still danced about in her thoughts. She half made out the form of her daughter, wearing her very favourite purple pyjamas dotted with giraffes and elephants, kneeling next to her and wearing an expression that was very reminiscent of Lena when she didn't get her way.
"No you're not, you gotta' get up!" Raina shoved against her shoulder again, becoming more insistent. "Wake up, wake up!"
"Hey, wake up! You're in my tree house!"
Shaken out of her slumber, her glistening eyes of gold and dust shot open and her hand instinctively reached for her boot where she was currently concealing a short hunting knife. Her fingertips were almost upon it when her head swung around to meet a small, young face staring down at her with a rather displeased look upon it.
"Pardon?"
The small boy huffed, as if well and truly miffed that he should have to repeat himself. He flung his head back, mop of blonde hair flopping about his face like a cotton rag.
"I said. This is my tree house!" he paused for dramatic effect, eyelids lowering as he stared her down with utmost annoyance. "What are you doing in my tree house?"
Glowing eyes blinked slowly, her lips parted as though to reply but for the life of her she truly could not think of how to respond to the young child. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so careless as to assume the family would not return home before she finished her job, but there was no time for regrets now. Instead, she reached for her weapon where it lay propped against the wall beside her. The boys eyes bulged and he seemed to shrink in fear.
"Is that a gun?" he asked, before realising just how stupid it sounded. Of course it was a gun. "Why do you have a gun?"
Amélie pulled the rifle into her lap, checking the ammo clip to triple check she had loaded it earlier. Her eyes peered at the boy, unfeeling, watching how he reacted to her every movement. She stood, now looming over him.
Reaching out, she pressed her fingers through his hair and pushed it out of his face, attempting to tuck it neatly behind his ear.
"Ah, mon petit, it is to protect those who cannot protect themselves," she thought on this sentiment for a moment, her lip twitching into a slight smile as the boy relaxed. "It is to take care of some very bad people."
The boy looked into her eyes, trying to judge whether or not she was telling the truth, before his gaze shifted to her rifle and looked at it rather intently. He looked as though he might have reached out and tried to touch it, but instead he shoved his hands into the pockets of his navy blue jumper.
"Are you going to shoot someone with it?"
It was hard in that moment to stifle a laugh that struggled oh so fervently to make it out of her mouth. Her arm lifted, shouldering her rifle with a heavy 'thunk' against her body and looking down at the boy with a deadly fire in her eyes.
"She has claimed more lives than you could possibly count, what is but one more?"
She reached forwards, placing her fingers under his chin and meeting his gaze directly, briefly enjoying the tremor of fear that flashed behind his pupils. A wicked smile tugged at her lips.
"Go now, jeune," her smile faded, a crackling of lightning pulsing through the sky and illuminating the tree house in a brilliance of blue and white. "Go to the safety of your parents and do not leave their side, and do not mind any sounds you might hear."
The boy swallowed, eyes watching in fear that he might become the next victim if he so much as twitched a muscle. Staring at him impassionately, cold, empty eyes searing into him eventually caused him to make the decision to hurry over to the exit and make his way down the rickety ladder before any ill might have become of him.
Amélie felt the tree rock softly with the movement as the boy descended, watching from her perch and listening to the soft thumps of sneakers against grass. It only took a few seconds for him to make his way to the back door of his home, pulling the door open and disappearing inside.
Rain drops began to patter against the roof, clacking as they hit the leaves of the tree and rolled off and tumbled to the soil below. Amélie rolled her shoulders, made sure her belt was adjusted and secure and made her way out of the structure. The return of the family was an unforeseen circumstance, but one she had planned for nonetheless.
It would have to be done in a more forceful manner, without the added benefit of the range and stealth that Widow's Kiss afforded her. Of course, still no one heard or saw her as she slinked through the urban backyards, sliding a toolkit from her belt and searching until she found items with which to lock pick her target's back door.
Slipping inside, she was not the least bit surprised by the lavish adornments throughout the house. Expensive paintings of splattered shapes that made absolutely no sense- she had always hated modern art- leather upholstered modular sofa, an entertainment system that someone like would undoubtedly be jealous of. Talon certainly spared no expenses when it came to their underlings, that was for sure.
As she made herself comfortable, laying in wait for her target to return home, she pondered over how she should take him out. Strangulation? Slit his throat? Or perhaps she could hold him down and beat him to death until her knuckles were bloody and raw, throbbing with pain.
The last one sent a shiver down her spine, ingrained conditioning making her thrilled at the thought of his suffering. However, she had to remind herself that this was her purpose now, and that he was only one of many. There would be all the time in the world to make her former bosses suffer as they had made her.
Interrupting her musing, the house filled with shifting beams of light, bouncing off of various mirrors and metal sculptures, the headlights of a blacked out car pulling into the driveway of the home.
Amélie smirked, closing her eyes and listening to every little sound from beyond the incessant splatters of the rain outside.
A door unlatched, shoes were kicked off and a dripping wet jacket shirked from shoulders, placed on a coat rack to drip dry. A set of keys thrown carelessly into a ceramic plate, sock covered feet padding purposefully towards the kitchen. Someone is hungry, perhaps?
It didn't take long, and she was patient. Soon the man made his way into the living room, plated sandwich in hand, flicking the light switch on only to be greeted by the sight of the assassin standing practically in front of him, face stone cold as she looked into his soul.
The plate dropped from his hand, a smattering of lettuce and yellow blobs of mustard that had been hastily spread over sliced ham covering the oak floorboards in an instant. The ceramic plate shattered into mosaics, the startling sound the only noise before Amélie was pulling the man into her arms.
Forearm on the back of his neck, the other arm snaked tightly around his throat, it didn't take long for his face to start turning a darker shade of red. He kicked violently, struggling against her but her grip was too firm, too perfect from all of that training.
His body fell limp against her, but she maintained her hold, starving his brain and lungs of oxygen until the body began spasming and jerking uncontrollably. A sob of anger burst from her throat as she maintained her grip, his body slowly ceasing movement. She held on just a little longer, her fingers reaching out for his pulse point and only retracting once she was satisfied the life had finally drained from him.
As she finally let him fall to the ground, she set her face in stone once more, a small part of her rage and inner turmoil having been sated for now.
She made her way out of the house; by now the rain was pouring down in and endless curtain, soaking through to her skin after mere moments outside. It didn't bother her, in fact it was refreshing. She lifted her face to the sky and let it fall over her, dripping down her skin in rivers and washing away the pain that still ravaged her from within.
An image flashed through her mind, a warmth enveloping her body and deceptively strong arms encircling her. She released a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding, chest shuddering; Amélie fell into the smaller body, allowing the Brit to hold her silently, close, saying everything that needed to be said simply through touch alone.
Then, just like that, it was gone.
Amélie opened her eyes even as the rain dribbled into them, turning her gaze to her left and meeting the eyes of a small boy two houses down, white knuckling the window frame of what she assumed was his bedroom.
Neither of them made motion to move, but she could tell from the way his brows were knitted together in concern and his face was nearly touching the glass that he was asking if she had really done the deed.
Perhaps she could have smiled, pretended everything was alright and put his mind at ease, but that would be lying to both herself and to him.
The rain increased, the clouds overhead almost the colour of tar and relentless in their assault. Such was the thickness of the downpour, it obscured her view of anything a few feet past the fence line.
Straightening her back and composing herself, she made quick work of slipping from the yard and following the back streets until she was able to make it back to her little hovel. The last thing she wanted was for Talon to catch her while she was out and about, removing their agents from existence.
To be fair, the same could have been said about Overwatch and Lena. It just wouldn't do to have their agents tracking her, bombarding her with nonsense about doing 'what was right'. What was right to them and what was right to her were two very different things, but it didn't make her right any less valid.
And to have Lena in the line of fire? Yes, she was fast, but there was only so much her zipping about would achieve. One day, she wouldn't be fast enough, and there was only so much Amélie could do through her scope. Or if Talon decided they wanted to take Lena? Break her like they had Amélie and turn her into a cold, lifeless, weapon of destruction?
Non, she would not have it. No matter how her chest ached every time she saw Lena's smiling face in her thoughts, she would not rescind her plan. This was the way it would be, with her laying freezing cold in the dead of the night, a lonely existence. At least Lena would be safe, warm, and with friends who loved her. Friends who could give her everything she could not.
Amélie shivered uncontrollably, wrapping her arms tightly around her body and curling up in a corner, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.
AN: As always, thank you to everyone who has been incredibly patient while waiting for me to update. Things have been very hectic here, and it seems there is always one thing or another that needs fixing in this house, but hopefully I will have a bit more free time to work on writing over the next few weeks (fingers crossed).
Special thanks to Grimtooth, for helping me out with French lines and beta'ing for me. You are awesome and the French parts of my story would be a mess without you.
Another special thanks to VincBej for your lengthy review and positive feedback! It means so much to me.
Also endless amounts of thanks to everyone else who reviewed: thewatcher509, x Kyuubi z, Serianni1, viento, Chaotic Harlequin, , Infinity Comes To A End, Kurrent, Avatarfan444, MophZz, Shigure Toshiro, Badassfox, widowtracertrash, benv305, The Queen Baby, and all of the anonymous guests. You guys are all amazing and I love you so much.
I also have a tumblr that I keep updated with Overwatch stuff and personal things, so if you're ever wondering where I'm up to in the latest chapter update you can send me a message on there. My username is Strickycubs, and don't be afraid to shoot me a line even if it's to drop some feedback or something.
Sorry for the lengthy AN, as always I hope you guys enjoy the chapter; it's a little bit longer than usual. Hugs to you all!