Chapter 15:

Warning: this chapter gets pretty violent. It's a type of violence similar to what happens in TF2, but still.

Sombra clicked the 'disconnect' button on her laptop, scribbling down a few more notes and rising up off the sofa. She passed Widowmaker, who was sitting before the TV with her usual, blank expression.

"I'll be back," Sombra assured, and Widow only responded with an 'mmm' sound.

Sombra pushed the door open, leading to the conjoined laundry room, where Moira sat at a newly installed desktop.

"What did you learn, dear one?" Moira inquired without even turning around.

"Of the eight people, six are going to the Overwatch base site," Sombra informed the older woman. "The two staying behind are David and Karen,"

Moira nodded, making a note of this in a document she'd opened. "I see. And how will six people travel to the base site from here?"

"They're calling for two Ubers. Three in one, three in the other,"

"Hmm," Moira leaned back in the chair, pursing her lips together. "Interesting. And how many Overwatch members will be at the base during that time?"

Sombra winced, trying to remember. "Well...if I read Winston's updates correctly, some agents will be back at Nature's Gate, some will be here, looking for us, and the rest will be at the base,"

"Could you bring me the updates?"

"I sure can!"

Sombra left, and then returned moments later with her tablet. She passed the tablet over to Moira. "You have no idea how long it took to hack into their chat server! Winston really knew what he was doing when he set up-"

"Hush," Moira cut in, her eyes scanning the tablet's screen. "Hm...It doesn't seem like we'll have a hard time if we choose to attack the base, simply judging by who's staying behind. He sent all the good agents out on the mission, foolish monkey,"

"But what about the guests?" Sombra wanted to know. "We'll have to deal with them, too,"

Moira snorted. "Really? Please, they're guests! Nothing more! They're unarmed and harmless, no one has to deal with them,"

"Oh..." Sombra went silent for a few seconds and then piped back up. "So, who's going on this mission?"

"I'll talk to Akande about it," Moira assured. "Of course, we'll need you to fly the drone beforehand,"

"Great!" Sombra nodded, springing back up and heading for the door. "Let me get it out now so I won't have to do it tomorrow,"

She dashed outside to the supply closet, where she found the worn cardboard box. She dug around inside until she found the drone, running a hand over the top to see if all the pieces were still intact. They were.

Just as Sombra rose up from the box, she felt someone behind her and turned around to see Karen standing there.

"Hey, Sombra," Karen gave a nod, her eyes flickering to the drone. "What's the drone for?"

"Can't tell you, chica," Sombra smirked, tucking the device beneath her arm. "Confidential info. What are you doing here?"

Karen shrugged. "Just finishing up before I go home for the night. I have plans tomorrow,"

Something in Sombra twinged. "Oh? What plans?"

"I'm going out with some old friends tomorrow, and David's going, too," Karen explained. "We were going to stay behind, but we were able to get covers for tomorrow,"

Although Karen didn't say it, Sombra knew immediately what was happening. She swallowed. "Huh...I see,"

"Anyway, I'm gonna head out for the night," Karen smiled, turning towards the hallway. "Have fun with your drone,"

When she was gone, Sombra shook herself. What was her deal? Why was she so concerned about this random girl getting hurt? She barely knew her, after all.

Something in her chest shuddered, and she tried her hardest to ignore it. Now wasn't the time for this: even she knew when to be serious about a mission.

Sombra closed the closet door and headed back to the room.

Morning came.

Tracer clicked her chronal accelerator across her chest, just as she did each morning, and she took a moment to brush a hand through her hair. It was then that she noticed her phone had lit up, and there was a text message from Scout.

"Call me when you can, plz."

"Huh," Tracer uttered aloud when she noticed it, and she picked up the phone.

"Hey, Scout!" she greeted when he picked up. "Is everything all right?"

He sounded a lot more chipper than the last time they'd talked. "Hey! There's been a change of plans,"

"Oh, yeah," Tracer leaned against her desk. "I should tell you that Winston told me something kind of important this morning-"

Scout went right on. "It ain't just me comin', it's me and some buddies of mine, we- oh, you were sayin' somethin'! Sorry, what is it?"

"You said your Medic was Adel Heinz, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Did you do any research on the Adel Heinz case at all?"

"Uh..." Scout went quiet. "No?"

Tracer began to explain. "Okay, well: when Adel Heinz was arrested, a police body camera recorded the entire thing, but the recording apparently got lost or damaged,"

"Okay? And?"

"And Winston thinks he found the recording. It was burned onto a DVD he bought from a yard sale,"

Scout went quiet again. "God damn!" he exclaimed after a few seconds. "That's, uh...can we see it?"

"You'll have to convince him to show it to you," sighed Tracer. "He wants a few of us to watch the whole recording before he turns it into the authorities,"

"Well, if we're gonna help Medic, we gotta watch that video!" Scout affirmed. "We'll be there in about, uh, twenty minutes!"

"Great! See you, then,"

That was at 8:30 AM.

"So we're not calling the Ubers after all?"

Engineer shook his head. "Nope. Since I managed to get the morning off for this, I can take everyone in my van,"

Karen nodded, spraying something into her hair and smoothing it back. "Good, I didn't feel like paying anyone to drive us there, sorry to say it,"

"Well, you got that gas money?" when Karen glanced over at him, he only snickered. "Just kiddin',"

Eight people crowded into the van, which was actually meant to hold six people, but Engie had anticipated this.

"I installed two seats in the back," he explained. "Who wants them?"

Pyro immediately sprang up and seated herself in the back, buckling in and humming as she slipped the mask over her head.

Engie couldn't help but laugh. "I forgot, she likes to sit in the back. Who's sittin' with her?"

"Scout, sit with Pyro," Spy instructed.

Scout looked a little offended. "What? I had to sit in the back all the time when I was a kid! I ain't going back there!"

"Because you're still the youngest here," muttered Sniper.

Spy retrieved his vape pen and inhaled on it. "Scout, we're not going to argue about-"

"Actually," Engie batted the vapor away, making a face. "Since ya just vaped in my van, how about you sit in the back?"

Spy opened his mouth to make some remark but thought better of himself. "...fine,"

He got up and went to the back, where he sat down next to Pyro. He nodded at her. "How are you, beauté masquée?"

Pyro only tilted her head slightly, and then turned around and dug into a tote bag next to her seat. She pulled out what appeared to be a somewhat singed Happy Meal toy and put it on Spy's lap.

Spy stared at it for a few seconds before remarking, "I didn't ask for this child's toy, but-" he grimaced when he picked it up and felt a sticky film covering the surface. "Eugh!"

They drove down to Overwatch's base site and pulled into the parking lot. Engie shut the van off and looked out to squint at the building. "So that's what it looks like, huh?"

Scout started to say, "Yeah, it's even bigger on the inside-" but a siren cut him off.

The siren increased in volume slowly but steadily. Those in the car sat still, listening.

"Fire department?" Soldier wondered out loud.

"No...no..." Scout looked out the window. "It's comin' from the building," it was then that he noticed the feminine figure standing several feet away. "Tracer!"

Scout undid his seatbelt and flung the door open, rushing towards her. "Yo, Tracer!"

Tracer whipped around with a look of panic on her face. "Scout, you need to leave!"

"What?" he paused, looking at her quizzically. "What's happenin'? What's the siren for?"

Tracer opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late.

A pair of thick, heavy combat boots trudged up behind her, and a snide voice quipped, "Does Winston know you're out here instead of in the base with everyone else? Or does he just not care?"

Scout took a step back, his eyes widening. "Who's that!?"

"Bad news!" Tracer explained quickly, whipping out a blunt baton. "Run!"

Scout felt himself freeze up, watching as Tracer raised the baton high and brought it down in a quick swoop. Reaper seized her wrist, tilting his head at her choice of weapon.

"You call that a weapon?" he snorted, reaching for his belt. He unsheathed a machete, which he lifted above his head. "This is a weapon!"

Tracer acted fast, bringing her knee up and striking Reaper directly in the groin. This didn't seem to hurt him, and he struck Tracer with his wrist, hard. As she fell to the ground with a yelp, her baton clattering to the pavement, Reaper scoffed, "Nice try, girl scout, but I have armor right there because I'm not an idiot!"

"You sure about that, pal?" a voice from behind chided, and Reaper turned to look.

Almost instantly, Scout clocked Reaper in the face with the baton Tracer had dropped. Reaper let out an undignified squawk, and Scout snickered. "Yeah, take that, chucklehead! I've been doin' this a lot longer than you-"

He was cut off when Reaper lunged at him, gripping a hand tightly around his neck and pinning him to the ground. Scout writhed and swung, letting out a shriek of pain when Reaper swept the machete across his skin and cut a good gash on his right arm.

"Shouldn't you be in school, kid?" Reaper let out a sadistic chuckle as he tightened his grip, listening to Scout gasp. "I should cut out that tongue of yours, see how smart you are then,"

All of the sudden, a sharp, searing pain spread through Reaper's back, and a lithe yet strong arm circled around his neck, squeezing it tightly.

Spy removed the screwdriver from Reaper's back, growling, "Release my son or it goes in your throat next,"

Reaper went silent and then flung himself backward, crushing Spy against the pavement. Spy let out a yell, struggling as Reaper pried the screwdriver from his hand. Once he'd obtained it, Reaper brought the tool down and stabbed it right through Spy's palm, pinning him to the asphalt. As Spy cried out in pain and tried to pull it from his hand, Reaper looked up to see that Tracer and Scout were both gone.

"Ha!" Reaper put his foot against Spy's diaphragm, pushing down hard and making him wheeze. "Looks like your kid and his girlfriend abandoned you,"

Spy's face twitched and he yanked his afflicted hand up, screwdriver and all. With surprising ease, he removed the tool and stabbed Reaper again, this time in the spot just above his ankle. He did this with such force that the tool pierced the bone and went right out the other side.

The scream Reaper released was deafening, and he collapsed on the ground. "Bastard! You fucking bastard!"

Spy struggled to his feet, his hands quivering as Reaper tossed the machete aside and reached for his belt again, this time pulling out a gun.

"Time to die!" Reaper boomed, aiming the gun while attempting to stand up.

He never fired it. The screeching of tires sounded through the parking lot, and Spy jumped out of the way just in time. Engie's van came barreling through, knocking Reaper off of his feet. The force knocked Reaper straight up the windshield, up on the roof, and then back down on the pavement with a loud thud.

The van slowed to a stop, and the doors opened. Soldier and Demo ran to where Reaper lay still in the gravel, and they knelt down to look at him.

"Is he dead?" Demo wondered, poking him.

"Does it matter?" Soldier shrugged.

"All right, fellas, move it along!" Engineer swatted the two of them away, dropping down to feel Reaper's pulse. "Nope, we knocked him right out. Get the duct tape-"

Tracer stepped in. "No, no, let me do it,"

Scout leaped out of the van, running to his father right away. "Dad, are you all right!?"

Spy only grunted, wincing at the open wound in his hand as the blood gushed down his wrist. "I'll live, I suppose, but..." he trailed off, his eyelids faltering as he had to look away from the wound. He looked as though he could vomit at any moment.

Tracer looked up from where she was tying up Reaper, watching Spy with concern. "I can take him to Dr. Ziegler,"

"No, no," Karen put a hand on Spy's shoulder, guiding him to sit on the pavement while she retrieved a first aid kit. "I've got it- I can play Medic, for now, I guess,"

As Karen quickly began patching Spy up, Pyro offered him some juice to drink. Tracer clicked something on a device on her belt, speaking into it: "This is Tracer. Reaper has been knocked unconscious and restrained,"

"Good work," Winston's voice responded. "Please get in the base. Two other Talon members have already breached our security,"

"Which ones?"

"Moira and Widowmaker have both been spotted inside,"

Tracer groaned. "Aw, bloody hell. I'll be right there,"

As she ended the call, Tracer turned to the others. "You may want to get out of here, it's gonna get pretty ugly,"

"Sorry, darlin'," Engineer took a step forward, crossing his arms. "We ain't leavin', we're here to help,"

Tracer tried to get him to back down. "That's really not necessary, and I can only let you help out if you have fighting experience..." Tracer trailed off as she remembered who she was talking to. "Wait-"

"Didn't you see us take out ol' masky?" Scout grinned. "I think you need us,"

Tracer glanced towards the base site, and then took a deep breath. "All right. Can you keep Reaper locked up in the van for now?"

"Sure thing!" Engineer grabbed the unconscious man's feet, dragging him towards the van.

Spy stood up, adjusting himself and pulling out his vape pen. "Gentlemen," he began, blowing out a cloud of vapor. "It would seem we're back in business,"

In the storage unit behind the base, Heavy lay on his bed, filling out an adult coloring book while watching TV, totally oblivious as to what was happening outside. That is until the door opened.

Heavy looked up to see Zarya standing there, and she handed him a gun. "You need to protect yourself. Even with your strength, you will need this,"

Heavy accepted the weapon but looked at her in confusion. "Protect from what?"

Before Zarya could respond, the unit's only window shattered, accompanied by a boom. Zarya cried out and collapsed, falling against the shelf and then on the floor. Heavy leaped up, running to her side. "Zarya!?"

Zarya groaned, heaving herself up and reaching a hand up to feel the back of her neck. Looking at her, Heavy realized she'd been shot, but the bullet had only grazed her, thankfully. Heavy grabbed a handful of tissues and handed them to her, squinting out the shattered window.

He could see a slender figure from one of the base's windows, and he could also make out the unmistakeable glinting of a gun in the sunlight. His eyes narrowed, and he rose up, heading for the door. "I will handle this,"

Zarya turned her attention from her wound, a look of panic on her face. "What!? No, come back!" she stumbled after him as she continued to press the tissues against the back of her neck. "It is not safe!"

Widowmaker could see a large, mountain of a man nearing the base, a gun in his hand, but she was not worried in the slightest. She sipped from her water bottle, aiming her rifle once more.

She was so focused on her target that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her until they got closer. She glanced over her shoulder right as a heavy briefcase knocked her right in the face.

Widowmaker tumbled backward in surprise, completely missing her shot but recovering quickly. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her gun and jumped up, only to freeze as she made eye contact with her attacker.

Sniper only swallowed thickly. "Bet ya thought you got rid of me, eh?"

Widowmaker's eye twitched. "I knew I should not have spared you," she thrust the barrel of the rifle into Sniper's chest, only to have him knock it away in the nick of time so she'd hit the wall instead.

Acting fast, he yanked the gun from her hands and threw it over his shoulder, remarking, "Ain't so tough without your-" she cut him off by digging her nails into his neck so hard they drew blood.

"You do not know what you have done, you filthy junker," she hissed at him.

Sniper paused for a moment. "Wait- did you just call me a junker?"

"I hear it in your accent," she explained, her face emotionless as her golden eyes stared into his gray ones.

Sniper said nothing, then used his free hand to punch Widowmaker in her abdomen, hard. She let out a yelp, releasing him and doubling over, and Sniper pounced. He knocked her to the ground, wrestling her hands behind her back as he pinned her there.

"What should I do, now?" he mused aloud, watching as she squirmed. "Should I put you in the showers and leave ya there? Just like ya did with me?"

Widowmaker's body jerked, and a strangled sound escaped her throat. For a few seconds, Sniper wondered if she was going to pretend to cry to get sympathy but soon discovered that wasn't the case.

She began coughing, and the sound grew louder and more violent as her whole body convulsed. Sniper listened and watched, grimacing at a particularly bad wheeze but still not saying anything. When she coughed up a small stream of blood, Sniper finally remarked, "Didn't hit you that hard,"

Widowmaker only glared at him for a moment before continuing to cough and wheeze. As more blood dribbled from her mouth, Sniper finally noticed something on the back of her neck. "What the...?"

He reached down, sweeping her hair aside, and that was when he saw them: veiny, black markings like branches spreading across her blue flesh. Sniper examined the marks, and observed finally, "You got Black Flu,"

"Get off of me, and do not touch my hair," Widowmaker seethed, although she made no move to escape. "Or kill me, if you must,"

Sniper did not obey, and he instead tried to think of what he should do next. Her gun was only a few feet away, he could kill her right now with it. Though, she seemed to be struggling to breathe, like she couldn't get a full breath, so he wondered if perhaps he'd let her poor respiration kill her.

Yet, something in Sniper's chest ached quietly at the thought of just ending her life. She was horribly ill and would probably die anyway, and he tried to tell himself that killing her would be for the best, but...he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"What are you doing?" Widowmaker rasped as Sniper scooped her up, tucking a hand beneath her knees. "Go on and kill me already,"

"Sorry, Sheila," he smirked at her, carrying her out the door. "But not today,"

Hello, friends! Sorry for the late update, I've been kinda busy lately.

Hope this chapter was okay! This was certainly one of the longer updates, but we're getting to a good part. You'll see soon enough!