Chapter 9:

It was noon when the van pulled into the garage.

"So, where is he?" Scout wanted to know, stepping out of the van. "Like, is he in a cell?"

"He's in a confinement room in our basement," Tracer explained, shutting the door behind her. "Zarya said she took the chains off of him because he's calmer than before,"

Rene paused on the pavement, taking a moment to look at the building. "So, this is the base site?"

"For now, yes," Tracer nodded. "Come on, I'll show you around-"

"Actually," Rene inhaled on his vape pen, trying not to look anxious. "Perhaps I'll wait outside,"

Scout only sighed loudly. "Dad, come on,"

"I'll be fine," Rene tried to assure. "You go do what you need to do,"

"I ain't goin' without you," Scout told him firmly, crossing his arms. "This is about you, too,"

There was a long pause, and Rene slipped his pen in his pocket. "Fine, I'm coming,"

"Are you sure?" Tracer asked.

"I'm sure," Rene headed for the building. "Come on, we're wasting time,"

Tracer led the two inside and then down the basement steps, where she opened a door at the bottom. Winston and Mei were inside, chatting about something in quiet voices when the door opened.

Mei lit up when she saw Scout. "Uh, h-hey!"

"Hey," he greeted back, much to her delight. "How's your arm?"

"Oh! Um, a lot better," she rolled up her sleeve to show him. "Thank God for modern medicine, right?"

"Yeah," Scout replied, although now his attention was focused elsewhere. He watched the two people behind the two-way mirror in front of him. "Yep, that's Heavy, all right," he reached for the doorknob. "Can I-?"

"Not until I say," Winston told him, his voice rather stern. "And we have to let Zarya know first, just in case-" he paused when he saw Rene standing there. "Who is this?"

"I'm his father," Rene answered, gesturing to Scout and shaking Winston's huge hand. "I should tell you, I'm very impressed with the layout of this base,"

"Oh!" Winston's demeanor changed entirely, fidgeting with his hands and staring at the floor. "I-it's nothing, really, me and some colleagues of mine designed it. Well, it was here before, b-but it was a different building and we just renovated everything-"

"Winston," Tracer stopped him before he could keep rambling. "Could you let Zarya know they're here?"

Winston turned around in the chair and reached for the control panel. "Yes! Y-yes, of course, I- wait, they're both going in?"

"I don't have to go in-" Rene tried to say, but Scout stopped him.

"Yeah, he's comin' in with me,"

Winston considered this, and he shrugged. "All right, then," he clicked a button on the control panel and spoke into the microphone. "Zarya, two visitors are about to enter,"

Zarya heard this through her earpiece, and she paused in confusion. Two visitors? There must have been some change of plans.

She got the attention of the man who was putting a puzzle together with her. "I think your friend is coming,"

Sure enough, the door opened, and Scout stepped inside tentatively. He made eye contact with the man at the table, and he tried to smile.

"H-hey, buddy," Scout greeted, pulling up a chair to the table. "How are ya?"

There was an awkward silence as the man scanned Scout up and down with his eyes, not saying a word. Scout couldn't stand it after about thirty seconds.

"Y...you do remember me, don't ya?" Scout swallowed nervously, wondering if he'd made a mistake of some kind. "You asked for me, didn't you, Heavy?" all of the sudden, the large hand found the collar of Scout's shirt, and he yelped. "Don't kill me!"

Zarya jumped out of her chair, starting to shout, "Don't-!" but she froze when she saw what was happening.

Scout relaxed when he realized Heavy wasn't trying to kill him but was hugging him. He held him back, although he was unable to get his lithe arms around the mountain of a man.

"I am very happy to see you," Heavy remarked after a moment, his voice soft.

"Good to see you too, pal," Scout replied, rather quiet.

Heavy glanced up when he sensed someone else in the room, and he pulled away from Scout only slightly when he saw Rene. "Spy!" he extended a hand towards him, a look of pure joy on his face. "Come!"

Rene hesitated, and then slowly took a step forward, grasping Heavy's hand. "Hello-" he was cut off when Heavy yanked on his arm and pulled him into the embrace. Rene tensed up but melted into the contact after only a few seconds, and it seemed to clear his mind a bit.

On the other side of the two-way glass, the three agents watched the reunion in silence.

"One hundred years later, and they still remember each other," Mei marveled aloud.

Winston stared at the scene, and then glanced over to look at Tracer. "Do you...do you really believe that this is a case of reincarnation?"

"Do you?" Tracer asked in return.

"I..." Winston turned back to the glass. "I don't know,"

Elsewhere, John swung the door to the hotel room open, looking around. "Rene? Dylan?" he stepped inside. "Hm. It seems we're alone,"

Ferguson set down the liquor store bag on the counter, where he noticed a note. "They left us a note!" he snatched it up and squinted at it. "'Dylan and I will be back soon. Try not to drink all the red wine,'" Ferguson snorted. "Frenchie can't stop me,"

John loaded the drinks into the mini-fridge, eyeing the food Rene had bought. "Fergus, did Rene tell you how long he plans on staying?"

"Nope," Ferguson switched the TV on, choosing a news station. "Might as well make ourselves at home, aye?"

"All I know is we'll be here long enough to get Dylan a job," John muttered, mostly to himself. "Lord only knows how long that will take,"

"Ya worry too much, lad!" Ferguson barked from the couch. "Bring that wine and we'll watch something,"

John gave Ferguson a glare. "It's noon, we're not having wine,"

Ferguson scoffed. "You're no fun,"

John got a bottle of grape juice instead, pouring a glass and passing it to Ferguson. "Here, try not to spill it,"

"Aye, hate to spill anything on our clothes," Ferguson agreed. "Nowhere to wash them,"

"Well, not exactly. I believe there's a laundromat across the street," John had a sudden thought. "Actually, doesn't this hotel have a place for laundry?"

Ferguson thought about it. "I think so, yeah. Seen it in the ads,"

John rose up, heading for the door. "I'll go take a look around, see what its like. I'll be right back,"

"S'all right," Ferguson mumbled out in response, focusing on the TV.

The hotel was a lot bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, and John quickly discovered this as he tried to navigate his way around. Oddly enough, there weren't many employees around he could talk to, but it was noon and he just assumed they were taking a lunch break.

John eventually discovered a sign pointing to a flight of stairs leading downwards, and to his delight, the sign read 'laundry room and employee bathrooms'. He'd found it.

Yet, a strange feeling brewed within him as he walked down the steps. Something wasn't right: everything was eerily dark, and it was empty. He found the room marked 'laundry', but when he tugged on the door, it was locked. There was a keypad near the handle, and obviously, he didn't have a code. John just stood there, fidgeting a little while looking around for some type of assistance he had a feeling wouldn't come.

As he turned to head back up the stairs, the door behind him opened, snapping him to attention. He looked over his shoulder, and he saw a woman standing there. Her skin had an unnatural, blue tint to it, and she wore bizarre clothing. There was something in a black case hanging at her side, and she stared at John with a blank expression.

The woman looked directly into his eyes and asked, "How did you get down here?" she was French, he could hear it in her voice.

"I..." his voice came out weak, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "I was looking around for the laundry room is all," he pointed to the door behind her. "Is that it?"

She didn't answer his question. "No one is supposed to be down here,"

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't realize," John backed away slowly, the bad, gnawing feeling growing worse. "I can go, it's not a problem. I can do my laundry at the laundromat across the street..."

"You are not going anywhere," the woman grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer to her. "You are going to forget you saw me, understood?"

John's mouth went dry now that he was closer to her. Her face was expressionless, as was her voice, but her eyes were full of so much feeling that it scared him. His eyes flicked down to the black case, which was now laying on the ground, and he noticed the word 'Widowmaker' written in white lettering.

"Widowmaker?" he tried to pull away. "Is...is that you? Is that your name?"

She only stared at him, and then slammed his head directly into the wall.

Everything went black.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, but all he knew was that in the next moment, there was a cold wetness soaking his clothing. As feeling returned to his limbs, he realized he was lying on a hard surface with frigid water rushing over him.

He jerked awake, sitting up and seeing he was in some kind of shower room. A spigot poured freezing water on his fully clothed body, and he felt around blindly to shut it off.

John took a moment to catch his breath, looking around and taking in the surroundings. "Hello?" he called out, anxious. There was no one.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, thinking over the previous events. "I walked into something bad, didn't I?"

The shower made a 'ca-chunk' noise and some liquid began to drip from the showerhead. John didn't think much of it and turned to leave until he saw that a drop had fallen on his wrist.

It was not water, but blood.

Horrified, he whirled around to look at the showerhead, only to have a great amount of fluid splash him in the face. John gasped and sputtered, pressing his eyes shut to avoid getting any of the rancid, tinny blood in them. He stumbled backward, slipping on the slick shower floor and landing flat on his back, letting out a pained yell as he did so.

Gasping, he sat up, finally opening his eyes and seeing that the entire shower area was soaked in dark wet blood. He was drenched in it, too: his clothes, his hair, his everything, and he looked around frantically.

"Hello!?" he cried out again. "I need help! Is anyone there!?"

He struggled to stand up, and that was when he noticed a tall, looming figure standing in the doorway. Fear seized his heart at the sight. "Wh-who are you!?"

The figure simply smirked, chiding with a deep voice, "Don't pretend you don't know me, Sniper,"

John tried to run towards the figure, only to slip again and land face down. He tried to push himself up, but he tensed when a pair of hands got a hold of his shoulders. "Let go of me!" he snapped, swinging.

"You're all right, you're all right!" a voice above him assured, helping him up.

John looked into the stranger's face, and somehow he recognized them. "Engineer! Engie, you need to help me-"

"I'm sorry, what? What are you talking about?"

Hearing this grounded John back to reality, and he recognized the man helping him as David, an employee at the hotel. John also realized that there wasn't any blood, and he was only covered in water.

"W...where am I?" John asked finally, his voice quivering.

"The employee bathroom," David explained, his voice full of concern. "What's goin' on, son? You all right?"

"I'm not all right," John sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "I...I think I'm losing my mind,"

David tugged him away from the showers in a gentle yet firm motion. "C'mon, I'll help ya out. Let's get a coffee and talk this over, hm?"

"All right," John agreed, his breath slowing somewhat.

Back at the base, Scout finished telling Heavy all about why they were there.

"So, that's basically it," Scout concluded, his hands fiddling with a puzzle piece. "All we gotta do now is find Medic and have him tell us what the cure to this Black Flu thing is,"

Heavy made a noise of understanding, gently plucking the puzzle piece from Scout's hands. "It is not that simple,"

"I know that," Scout assured. "I-I mean, if he doesn't remember, then we gotta make him remember, but what if he doesn't want to? I kinda wish this could be easy. I wish a lot of things were easy..."

"Don't we all?" Spy mused beside him.

Heavy pressed the piece into a shape, pulling it back and tutting when it didn't quite fit. "You say 'if' a lot. 'If this, if that', so much if,"

There was a pause, and a thought crossed Scout's mind. "Hey, Heavy? How come you remembered all this stuff already?"

"My sister and I knew it for years," Heavy answered softly. "Since we were taken. When you are in the same place for a long time, and bad things are happening, your mind walks away from you and makes you remember things,"

"Since you were taken?" Scout's brow furrowed. "Taken by who?"

Heavy's face creased with anguish, and he glared down at the puzzle. "Them. Barbie and Ken,"

"I'm sorry- Barbie and Ken?" Spy sounded confused. "Like the dolls?"

"No!" Heavy snapped, but he stopped himself from getting angry. "No...they are not dolls. They are people," for a moment, it seemed like he wasn't going to elaborate, but that changed. "Long time ago, don't know how much time, my sister and I went on a camping trip. Our other sisters were there, and our mother. Sister and I were getting firewood when Ken came up to us. He said his dog was stuck and needed help, and we said we would help him. When we were far away, he grabbed us and threw us in his truck,"

"Damn," Scout cursed under his breath. He couldn't even fathom what that was like, having everything snatched from you in a second because you thought you were helping someone.

"How old were you?" Spy asked.

Heavy thought about it. "I was twelve, sister was nine,"

"How long ago was this?"

"I...I can't remember. Ken took us to the bad place, where he locked us from everyone. Barbie gave us a TV, but only had two channels,"

"And you just got out?" Scout inquired.

Heavy nodded. "Yes. I left to save my sister because Ken treats her worse than me. If no one stops them, they will not stop themselves,"

The door opened, and Mercy walked in. "Hello, there. I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if you wanted a change of clothes?"

"Me?" Heavy asked, and Mercy nodded.

"Yes, you're not wearing that hospital gown everywhere," she gave a slight laugh. "Also, I would like to look you over, if that's all right,"

"It is," Heavy rose to his feet, and he turned to look at his two visitors. "Thank you for seeing me,"

"Never a problem, we were happy to do it," Spy cracked a smile at him and shook his hand.

Scout's mind was still whirring, murmuring a goodbye and a promise to return as Heavy hugged him again. He followed his father out of the building after this, and as soon as the sunlight hit him, something in him woke up.

"Dad, are you sure you don't wanna remember?" he asked.

"Dylan..." Spy trailed off and decided not to argue. "Let's just go,"

"Zenyatta's here," Scout pressed on. "We can go see him right now!"

Spy closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Finally, he replied, "All right. I'll do it,"