A/N

Hey everybody. Just a quick thank you to everyone for reading this story. It really is just amazing seeing you guys and girls taking a liking to this story. This is a short author note and a short chapter. Hopefully, everything is up to par.

Disclaimer: Overwatch belongs to Blizzard Entertainment and its respective developers. All I own is the a few characters and the plot of the story.

Now onto the story.

Overwatch dropship, Over the Atlantic Ocean

With the flight underway and the course plot for New Castle, Tracer engaged the autopilot before heading into the main cabin were everyone else was. Winston stood by the holotable with projections of the global with their position on it on it and the position of the Overwatch satellite in its orbit around the planet. Soldier: 76 and Ghost were seat by the table, Ghost was swiping through something on his wrist mounted device while Soldier: 76 was cleaning his weapon. Deciding to see what Winston was doing, she walked up next to her old friend.

"Whatcha doing there, Winston?"

"Hmm? Oh, I just going through reports from agents on the field. Most have reported no change in the situations in their areas and are asking for further orders."

"And what are your orders?"

"For most, its to hold position and keep watch. For the rest, I'm ordering that they relocate to areas that have more tensions and keep an eye on the situations there." Winston answered. Tracer hummed in response before turning back look at Ghost and 76 only to see that Ghost was gone. "I'm rather busy at the moment. Why don't you go talk to Ghost?" Winston suggested, looking at the young woman. Tracer just quickly looked at him before smiling and went to go find younger of the two soldiers. Searching from the back of the ship all the way to the front, she couldn't find him. Stopping in the small nook underneath the cockpit, she thought about where he could be hiding. There weren't many places to hide on the dropship that was until she thought she saw the air next to her shimmer. As she turned to investigate it, she felt someone poke up her sides, causing her to jump and let out a 'eep.' Turning around, Ghost uncloaked while laughing. With the mask on, his voice wasn't as rough as Soldier's but the laugh combined with the voice filters made him sound rather funny, which caused the young British woman to join in the laugh.

"How long have you been following me?" Tracer asked once the laughter died down.

"The entire time. I was wondering when you'd notice the me." While she couldn't see it, she could tell he was smiling underneath the mask. After the talk in the hanger back at base, she began to try figuring out what facial expressions he was making from his voice. "So what's up?"

"Nothing. Just wanted someone to talk to. These long flights can get so boring when there are so few people."

"Well sorry for not being more entertaining." Ghost huffed, feinting a hurt tone that Tracer immediately saw through and giggled which immediately brought the smile back on his face. "I know what you mean though, these kind of flights aren't exactly the most interesting. Normally, once 76 and I run out of things to do, we just sleep the rest of the journey off since we tend to operate for days on end without sleep." Tracer just hummed in response. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything really."

"A rather broad topic, don't think?" Ghost said with a chuckle.

"Fine then you come up with something."

"Alright. I've already told you plenty of things about me. I want to know more about you. Records and databases only go so far."

"Rather broad topic, don't you think?" Tracer said teasingly.

"We got time." Ghost said talking a seat on the ground.

"Fine." Tracer said taking a seat next to him. "I grew up in London." Tracer began. In the main hold of the dropship, Winston could hear Tracer telling her story to Ghost and chuckled.

"They seem to be getting along." 76 said prompting the gorilla to turn around to face the older soldier. 76 was looking over at the direction Tracer and Ghost were at.

"Very well, if I might add." Winston said. "What about you? Have you taken the opportunity to get to know the others?"

"Never really occurred to me to try." 76 lied. In all honesty, he remember of the current agents from back when he was Strike-Commander and familiarized himself with those he didn't remember with the help of Athena. None of them seemed to have changed since he last saw them.

"Well when we get back, you should try. I'm sure there are a few that would like to get know you. I, myself, am quite curious to know more about you and James." Winston said turning back around and bringing up both his and Ghost's agent profiles. 76 turned back to look at the profiles. The only things marked on his profile were a photo of him, the his name listed as 'Soldier: 76' as well as a few minor details.

"We're not here to make friends." 76 said before looking back at the weapon as he began reassembling it.

"Maybe not." Winston said with a sigh. "But it'll make it easier for the rest of us to trust you if you give something to work with. Soon or later, you're going to working with other agents that aren't Ghost and they're going to have a hard time trusting you to watch over them if they have no clue who you are." 76 silent groaned. He knew Winston was right but he also knew he couldn't afford to have anyone else know who he is. It was bad enough Reyes knew he was still alive and was actively hunting him. With a heavy sigh, 76 replied to the gorilla before him.

"I'll try talk to someone when we get back." With that, Winston smiled and went back to examining images on the holotable. With his weapon reassembled and Ghost occupied. 76 figured it was time for him to get some rest and hope that this painfully awkward journey would be over by the time he awoke.

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Jack laid there, unmoving. As he did, the smell of smoke and feeling of a liquid running down his face caused him to awaken with a sharp gasp. As he sat up, a sharp pain spread throughout his body causing him to cry out. Looking down at the source of the pain, he found a piece of metal lodged into his side. As he looked down, he felt the liquid on his face dripping down his chin. Bringing a hand up to wipe it away, he noticed it was sticky and warm and when looked at liquid that covered his hand, he realized it was blood, his blood. As the blood started to fall into his left eye, he surveyed his surroundings. He was sitting there in a pool of his own blood surrounded and covered by rubble. Doing his best to crawl out of the rubble he was under without upsetting his wounds too much, the Strike-Commander winced in pain as every movement only seemed to cause more damage to his already failing body. Finally freeing himself, he braced himself against some rubble as he forced himself to stand. With a cry of pain and effort, Jack Morrison was on his feet. Panting, he looked over himself once more. His clothes were torn and more cuts and injuries were visible and bleeding. The blood stains on his shirt has only seemed to have grown with fresh blood pouring from his wounds. How he still conscious was beyond him at this point. He noticed that his holster had barely survived the explosion as well and went he started limping his way to the nearest exit, his foot bumping against his pistol. With much effort and pain, Jack retrieved his sidearm before limping his way out with one hand braced against the walls for support and the other clutched firmly against his side in hopes that bleeding would less. As he passed through the destroyed, caved in corridors, what he saw would haunt him until his dying days. The corpses of other Overwatch members were littered almost everywhere he went. Some were killed by Reyes and Blackwatch as they made their intentions known while others were killed in the resulting explosion, trying to evacuate on orders from Morrison himself as he realized Blackwatch was rebelling. Jack broke down into tears as he passed by all the fallen members of Overwatch and Blackwatch, of all the fallen members of his family.

'Why had Blackwatch rebelled? Why would Gabriel, his best friend for over two decades, since the Onmic Crisis, do this? Was he really that jealous of something as stupid as a promotion? Of all the stupid attention he was getting? Why, why, why ,why WHY?!' Jack screamed mentally. He couldn't believe this. He almost outright refused to believe it but he knew that he should have seen it coming. Reyes refused to cooperate with him when he asked for mission reports and updates on Blackwatch, especially as Overwatch took all the blame for Blackwatch mission. Morrison was in the dark as much as the public was when it came to Blackwatch.

'This is my fault. I should have seen this coming. I should have stopped Gabe. I should have been stricter and had tighter control of Blackwatch and their operations. I should have done something. I...I...this is all my fault.' Jack thought as he sunk to the floor. Through his blurred vision and failing hearing, he heard his dog tags jingle front of him and watch as they dangled from his neck. Through everything they manage to stay on him. With a shaky hand, he reached up and grabbed the small plates of metal. They were scratched heavily from his years of being on the field but the words indented onto them were still clearly visible.

Morrison, John 'Jack', Strike-Commander, Overwatch. He couldn't stop looking at those words. He use to look at them with such pride. As a reminder of what he's accomplished but now, now he can only look at them in disgust. He didn't deserve to lead those brave men and women and they didn't deserve to be lead by a man like him. They deserved better than him. Gripping the tags tighter, Jack tore his dog tags from his neck and threw them back down the hallway. He wasn't sure where they had gone but he didn't care anymore. For all he cared John 'Jack' Morrison died in that room he woke up in. With dull eyes and a numbed body, he got up without a sound and limped his way out of what should have been his tomb as a new man as the memory faded into black.

He stood there in darkness, alone. He was no longer Jack Morrison. He had donned his leather jacket and mask and was known as Soldier: 76, vigilante and mercenary. He looked around, his senses on edge, waiting for something to strike but instead all that was around him was nothing. Finally, he heard something, the sound of a person, someone familiar, speaking off in the distance from behind him. As he turned to point his rifle around, he found that his main form of defense was gone. Reaching to his side, he found his holster empty as well. As he spared a quick glance to the empty holster, he quickly looked up to come face to face with someone he didn't expect to see again James's father, Darren Drake.

"Commander." The scout stood there in front of the soldier. He was bloodied, his clothes torn and with bullet holes in his chest. As he examined his old friend, a second voice was heard behind him. Spinning around, he came face-to-face with Gerard Lacroix with multiple stab wounds in his chest and his throat slit, blood staining his shirt.

"Commander." Now both voices spoke in sync.

"How could you let this happen to us, Commander? We trusted you, Jack. You promised to watch over us and protect us." As 76 backed away from the ghost of his old friends, he bumped into someone else. Turning, he saw Bayless with a bullet hole in his chest and Al-Farouk with a bullet hole in his side. As he turned to get away, Singh stood there with bullet hole in his upper body. Soon, he was surrounded by the ghost of the dead, how they died visible on their bodies, all of them chanting the same thing. With nowhere to turn to and the chants of the dead getting louder and no way to defend himself as the horde closed in, 76 just covered his ears hoping to tune them out.

"No, none of you are real. All of you are dead. This is just a dream." 76 shouted falling to his knees but the chant just got louder. Suddenly, the chanted stopped and he looked up to see a split in the crowd around him. In front of him, stood a single person. As he looked up, he saw Jack Morrison, his younger self. The cuts on his face were fresh, blood still freely flowing from them. The piece of metal still lodged into his side and his clothes and what was left of his armor, torn, broken and bloodied. He had a sad smile, his blue eyes filled with sadness. As Soldier: 76 stood up to stand face-to-face with his younger self, Jack spoke up.

"How could we let this happen, John? How many more need to die because of us? We can't let this happen again." Jack said gently placing a hand on 76's shoulder. And with that, 76 woke up.

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76 woke up in a cold sweat with a sharp gasp. As he quickly sat up, he clawed at his mask before finally being able to rip it off his face and throwing to the side. He was breathing hard. His nerves were on high alert, his body in a complete panic mode. Feeling someone put there hand on his shoulder, he grabbed their hand and arm and flipped them over his shoulder on to the couch in front of him before straddling the person and grabbing their throat with one hand while his other quickly drawing his pistol and aimed it directly for their head. As the person struggled for air, noticed the mask the person wore and quickly tore it off and threw it to the side. It wasn't until he saw the surprised and almost scared expression in James's eyes did he register what was going on.

"James." 76 let go of the younger man's throat and getting off him, allowing him to breath properly. James coughed as air once again filled his lunges as he back away a bit and sat up straight. As his coughs turned into heavy pants for air, James spoke up.

"Holy shit, man." Before 76 could respond, Tracer called down from the cockpit.

"Is everything alright back there?"

"Yeah. Just stay up there and you and Winston focus on getting us a landing area." James called back. When he just remember that he no longer had the voice filter, he cursed silently.

"What? James, is that you? You sound different?"

"Yeah, my mask is just malfunctioning. Don't worry about me, focus on the clouds or something." He lied as 76 got up and retrieved the two discarded masks. Throwing James his mask, 76 reequipped his mask. As James reequipped his mask, the voice filtered kicked in. "It's working." Ghost yelled. After that, he and 76 entered an awkward silence.

"Sorry about that." 76 said breaking the silence.

"Yeah no problem. Just gotta remember to avoid you in the morning for now on." Ghost said as his breathing even out and he rubbed his neck. "Nightmares?"

"Yeah. I'm good now." 76 simply stated as he walked back to couch he woke on sat down. Ghost just walked over and patted the older man on the back without saying anything. As he walked away, Ghost walked over to the door and looked out the window.

"Lena wanted me to tell you that we're approaching New Castle. When you're ready, meet us up at in the cockpit." Ghost said looking back at 76, who just nodded. Ghost nodded back and made his way to the cockpit.

A/N

And that's a wrap. Thank you so much for reading this chapter and this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was interesting to write, to say the least. Again, probably a lot of mistakes I missed so if you spot a lot of them, please let me know so I can keep an eye out for them. I tend to write the bulk of this these chapters at 4-5am until I knock out or have to get up so it'll be helpful for me.

So what did you guys think? Like it? Hate it? Somewhere in between? Leave me a comment or review or shoot me a PM if that's more your style.

Thanks again and have a great day.