III / Revival

He coughed, his heart beating fast and his lungs gasping for air, his eyes flew open but caught nothing but a stinging white light. His pupils were so sensitive that even the dark room seemed too bright to make out anything. The poison of Widowmaker had different effects on everyone depending on how their body would handle. The last thing he remembered was struggling with a rope, so the first thing he tried was breaking free. But there was no need. The ropes that had tied his hands and feet together were loose, so that he instantly lost balance and his side hit the stone cold floor. Only then to realize something had hit his head so he'd fall unconscious. He wasn't new to this, he had been knocked down many times in his life. Instinctively, his hand brushed over the bump on his head. There was no blood on his hand, so it wouldn't have been too bad. He was feeling dizzy but that was it. Slowly lifting himself up after he felt good enough again, his eyes immediately fell on the pale woman on the ground across of him. He gasped, and out of reflex he sprinted to the body. His memory flashed in front of him, showing him the disgusting image of how she had been shot. "No, fuck, no!" He shouted, his voice vibrating through the walls. "No, Angel, no, no.." His hands lifted her head up, then he held two fingers on her throat. Waiting for any signs of a pulse, he kept readjusting his fingers and then finally took her wrist. Nothing. No heartbeat. "You can't do this to me, Angela..." He carefully loosened the rope that tied her up and lifted the limp body up in his hands, then put her down on the stone floor. He ripped the Valkyrie suit from her body, too impatient to actually care for the procedure that was important for it to function. It was shot through, to his surprise, because it always had survived gunfire. Probably not a shot from a that close distance.

Her white shirt was all crimson red of blood. His fingers dug underneath the fabric that stuck to her skin. He pulled it up to reveal a wound, small, but deadly. He immediately noticed that it was shot through, so there was no need for him to mess even more with her body. He reached into his pocket and activated a biotic field.

The yellow glow filled up her body, but the only thing that he could see happening was the wound starting to close at a very slow pace.

"Come on, please." He said through his teeth. He kept an eye on the wound, kneeling next to the body. But she didn't twitch, she didn't get a heartbeat. Tears were at the verge of his eyes, he couldn't believe this was real. He must still be full of poison and hallucinating.

The yellow glow faded, and all it did was reducing the entrance and exit wounds, but nothing to stabilize her condition. If there even was a way to do that.

Her staff.

He swung to his feet to look for her things, and when he only saw the pistol in the corner, he realized. The staff was still not functioning. He panicked. The staff would be the one and only hope he had to bring her back. Nervously looking around the room, he clenched his hands to fists. He moved to his mask and put it on. Such a damn coward. God, you are an asshole. A clicking sound fixated the mask to his face. She died because you are such a damn coward. But he couldn't return to the others with his face revealed. Mercy was priority, she always had been.

Grabbing everything he could, he carefully lifted the body into his grip and started making his way out of the building. His head still dizzy and not feeling too well, he knew he might not be able to fight if anything happened. But that was unimportant. If he died too, then at least he got his punishment.

He carried the body all the way back to the headquarters, where he stormed into the assembly room. Everybody was already dead worried about them, since they hadn't heard a thing and they were gone longer than expected. With all faces in the room turning white and filling with shocked expressions. All eyes fell on the body he held in his arms. Slowly, without any words, he laid her down on the table. It was quiet, every sound of talking had faded and it seemed an eternity that all their lungs held their breath. Solider 76 then put the suit next to her, unloaded his gun and put it on the ground.

Then suddenly out of nowhere, Pharah stepped forward pushing the soldier back. "What did you do?!" She screamed out, looking at the solider with a deadly glance that would probably fulfill her promise she made to Mercy.

"What happened, who did -?" Reinhardt began, then his hands were slowly turning Mercy's head over.

"Talon." The soldier breathed out, his head buzzing with pain. "We were attacked." He explained, lying to all of them again. He knew the truth and he knew why she was shot and not him. Then he stormed forward to the body. "Where is her staff? We need to do something!" He shouted, having everyone look at him in confusion.

"It is not repaired yet, I have no idea if -" Torbjörn started to explain but was cut off.

"Get it here!" Pharah said immediately. "We can't lose her."

Torbjörn rushed out of the room to get the staff. 76 had no idea what they were going to do, he had watched her a million times getting people back from the dead and he had experienced it more than once as well. He wasn't sure how to do it, but he definitely could figure out. But he couldn't show. He wasn't Jack, he was Solider 76. And that guy had not seen her do her work once because the staff was broken. He just prayed anyone else would know what to do. As much as he hated himself for the coward he was, because this was about her life and he still kept his identity a priority in this situation. In the meantime, he grabbed another biotic field and put it on the table.

He activated the yellow glow. "It closed the wound, and if it can slow down the decay..." He muttered. He had eyes on him from all directions. Nobody knew what exactly happened, whether the soldier told the truth or not. But they let him slowly put the canister next to the body, because nobody else knew what they should be doing instead. They were no doctors, no scientists. The only one knowing things about bringing dead back to life was the one being dead in front of them.

Torbjörn rushed back with the staff in his hands, it was one part again but apparently still had malfunctions. He activated it but nothing happened as he pointed it to her body.

"This is not how this is supposed to work." Pharah grabbed the staff from his hands. "It is protected so only she can use it." She exhaled heavily.

"Then how are we going to do anything?" Lena bend forward, with tears in her eyes. "I can't lose her..."

"I have one idea and I really hope this works..." Pharah turned to her best friend on the table. She cringed clearly as she grabbed the lifeless hand of her friend and carefully wrapped it around the end of the staff. Holding Mercy's hand in her own around the handle, she lifted the staff up and hesitated.

"Heroes never die!"

Her voice was echoing through the room. Not too soon after, the Valkyrie wings of the suit lighted up and a swarm on nano particles formed a beam as bright as the sun above the lifeless body. It forced everyone to squint or look away. Pharah could barely hold the staff anymore, it was vibrating and releasing a power that was almost unable to control. If this was what Mercy had to endure every time, now she knew why it was so exhausting. The dead body, now fully glowing with a white and yellow color, was still lifeless. The power seemed to fade, and Pharah slowly took the staff down.

Everyone's eyes were glued to the body, waiting for any sign of success. But minutes passed and nothing was happening.

"What if the staff is still broken?" Lena asked, impatiently balancing her body from her left feet to the right and back. "What are we going to do?"

"We just have to wait." Winston, whose face was as sad as anyone had ever seen, took a few steps back. "Maybe we should leave her somewhere else. We are no help like this."

"But usually we all come back just in the second she helps us!" Lena really couldn't take this anymore.

"Lena, please." McCree laid a hand on her shoulder. Then a sob left Lena's lips, which made start to cry as well.

Winston looked over to McCree and the Shimada brothers to help him carry the body over the room next to them. They figured she needed her rest for anything that just happened to take effect. Soldier 76 got up to offer help as well, but he only got shaking heads back at him.

"I think it's better you sit." McCree raised his hand and pointed at the chair in the corner. The soldier rolled his eyes but obviously nobody could see. All he wanted was to know if his angel could make it. Nothing more.

"You saw the light, you saw the suit glow. Something must have happened." Pharah reassured to Lena while holding her in her arms.

"That doesn't mean it was anything good." Lena sobbed again.

Everyone was sitting in the room and barely anyone said a word. There were quiet cries and sobs here and there, but nobody dared to say anything. Their minds were full of worst case scenarios, that they just might have lost their best friend and guardian angel. There was nothing else that Mercy wanted than starting the organization without casualties, and then it hit her of them all.

"Maybe this is a sign." Reinhardt said, shaking his head. "Maybe we shouldn't have come back. And now we pay the price by losing -" His fist slammed the table, not finishing the sentence. He couldn't, he just couldn't get her name from his lips.

"Maybe we all should just get some rest. Get our mind on something else." Symmetra suggested, offering to grab something to eat or drink for anyone who wanted.

"How can you think of anything else right now?" Reinhardt frowned. Just as he wanted to continue his sentence, the door to their right flew open. All eyes were on the figure standing in the door frame.

Her head was dizzy and her chest hurt more than anything. But due to the adrenaline rush that was caused by the revival, she was on her feet faster than she ever imagined. She had never experienced this herself before but was quite surprised about how it actually worked. Faster than her thoughts could actually follow, her hand pushed down the door handle and swung the door open. She had relieved and overjoyed eyes on her, she heard people calling her name, hands trying to embrace her - but she didn't care. Her head was like she was walking above clouds and every person around was miles away. The only thing she had in her mind was an unmasked Soldier 76. The face, the features, the eyes. All of someone who she thought dead, maybe it was just the adrenaline and the fact that she died a few moments ago, but the images wouldn't get out of her mind. Like a puppet on a string her feet led her forward. It was like she was in some sort of trance and it made people worry. They thought something had happened to her mind while she was dead. She pushed everyone out of her embrace and let her feet carry her toward the chair in the corner, where the Soldier 76 was resting his head against the wall.

She walked closer and closer, until her hand reached for the mask on his face.

"Mercy, what are you -" The soldier tried grabbing her wrist but she was determined. Her fingernails dug into the material and ripped it from his face. She stared into two deep ocean blue eyes she knew like her own self. Gasping and inhaling was a sound that filled the room. Mercy let out a cry. Her face filled with pain and tears made her vision blurry. She didn't even know what she was supposed to do, but just like the puppet on a string, her hand clenched to a fist and hit the man in front of her in the shoulder. Again and again. Nobody was saying anything, the soldier was sitting still. He watched the broken woman in front of him repeatedly punch his shoulder, while her face filled with tears and wrinkles that formed from pain. She hit him with one last blow before she collapsed through the clouds on her knees, with a sob leaving her chest that quickly turned into the sound of crying.

Totally unable to figure out what he was supposed to do, the soldier tried to reach for the angel on the ground, but was stopped by a shrieking voice.

"Do not even dare to touch me!" Mercy cried, her now bloodshot eyes meeting his. "Why, Jack, why?" She shook off the hand that was reaching out for her and struggled to get back on her feet. She was still crying, but now looked more angry instead of actually sad.

"I buried you, Jack. I mourned you for years!"

"I know, and I am sorry -"

"Damn it!" She cried and her fist slammed into his shoulder again.

Jack Morrison was sitting in front of Overwatch. In front of his family.

He certainly never wanted them all to find out, but if they did, not like this. He didn't know what he had thought. To be fair, he totally forgot that she had actually seen him without his mask after Gabriel took it off.

"You better have a damn good reason." Mercy wiped her tears off with her sleeve of the still dried blood soaked t-shirt.

Jack hesitated. How could he ever describe it to them so it made sense? He probably couldn't. Nobody would understand. But he owed them the truth after everything. As he felt the weight of eyes on him, he started speaking. "Overwatch died. And so did I."

"You call that a reason?" Mercy was furious, but was trying to hide it as best as she could. She didn't want to lose her temper in front of everybody, and hoped that punching Jack could be justified.

"After everything that happened, I just wanted to protect all of you. People hated me. They brought Overwatch to the end. The explosion was the finale of it. And I thought it better be the end of me, too."

"So you disguised yourself, instead of just telling us?"

"How should I tell you? I never wanted anyone to know..."

"Why?" Mercy never took her death stare from his face. It frightened him, as he had never seen her this way before. Not ever in all these years.

"I just wanted the best for you. I wanted to take care of the people who brought Overwatch down and I looked out for all of you. I made sure you were safe..." He continued. Everybody was carefully listening, but he sure knew that not everyone would understand his motifs.

"And you couldn't let me know that you were still there?"

"The risk of people finding out it was me was too big. It would have just endangered you. After all, everything that happened was my burden..."

Mercy shook her head in disbelief. "We are your family, Jack... How could you not -?" She didn't finish her sentence because she didn't know what she should say.

"Look at these kids." Jack said and his eyes went around the room. "They don't need that kind of burden."

"These kids, Jack," her gaze never left his face, "they know exactly what they signed up for. Your burden would have been ours."

"Exactly. And that is wrong."

"Lying to everyone here was not wrong?"

"I – I -" He started but couldn't find anything more to argue.

"We – I thought I lost you forever, Jack. And here you are, all this time, you knew exactly who we were."

"I know. And it wasn't easy for me either."

"Then why did you agree to join again?" Mercy felt a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. Pharah had tried to step in, seeing that she was exhausted but the fury she felt kept her on her feet. Everyone else in the room was looking at the both of them with concern.

"I was asked and I said no. But I figured it might be my best chance to find vengeance and protect all of you."

"This is all about vengeance?" No matter what he said, it seemed to make Mercy more angry.

"No, not entirely -"

"I don't get it." She interrupted him.

"Then let me explain this at a better time..."

"A better time? You think there is a better time?" Mercy crossed her arms in front of her chest, but still not taking her eyes of the man. Her forehead started to hurt from the frowning.

"You know what, I don't want to hear it." Tears were running down her cheeks again. She inhaled shortly, then her gaze went over to the other people in the room. They were all sitting quietly, observing the two people who came back from the dead, arguing. Shaking her head, Mercy stomped out of the room. Jack was on his feet as fast as he could. "Angel, please!" He shouted after her but she didn't turn around.

As not expected differently, nobody else was filled with joy about the revelation. People were happy about the news, sure, but the lies were too much to handle. Maybe they needed time, maybe they just needed to ready themselves for forgiveness. Jack didn't know which of those things. He felt as bad as he had when he first stepped into this building, hoping that he might get through with the disguise if he was careful enough. He was, but how could he expect an old friend to seek revenge? He stared at the people across the room, who had started talking and ignoring him as of what he could tell. He looked down at the mask that fell to the ground, then gave it a kick with a roar that left his chest. "Damn it!" He shouted through his teeth.

"You know, you should give her time." McCree remarked, now taking a few steps closer to his former commander.

He was right. What did he expect as soon as someone would find out? Hands around his neck, kisses on his cheeks, joyful faces that he didn't actually die?

"I am figuring out how to tell you all that I am sorry." Jack walked closer to the table and took the time to look everyone in the eyes. "I am not sure if anything can ever make it up to how I lied to all of you. But I had my intentions."

"We might comprehend those intentions, Morrison, but just the point where you faked your death is what nobody can understand. If I may speak for everyone in this room." Torbjörn looked at the tall figure standing aside him. He knew him well.

"You are just a selfish idiot for all of that, and I hope you know that." Reinhardt spoke.

"I know that very well. I can't hate myself more for the ways I hurt Angela. I watched her. I looked after her."

"But you never had the courage to tell her."

Jack shook his head.

"She loves you, damn it, Jack."

Jack exhaled. "I know. And it hurt to see her."

"So your ego was more important than a broken heart?" Lena raised her head, her eyes still small and red from crying. "More important than all of us?"

Jack was hurt from her gaze that hit him, it was pain and confusion in her eyes. He looked away from her and tried to breathe easy. He felt like kicking and punching the walls to release tension that he felt from everything that had happened. What could he possibly answer to that? Yes was the answer. Because it is what happened, he only cared about himself and revenge. He had never considered it as much before as he did in that moment, he never could imagine how difficult it must be to understand his point of view.

"Yes." He just answered simply, without moving any muscle of his body. Upon hearing his answer, Lena looked away and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I felt responsible for everything that happened at the headquarters. I just wanted it to end. I hoped my death would make people stop hating Overwatch."

"Even if that is so, you didn't think for one second about everyone who followed and loved you, Jack. I am sure we could have found a solution -" Pharah was standing behind him, also with her arms crossed. But she was cut off by Jack who suddenly turned around to face her.

"You couldn't have done a damn thing. Yes, I have been selfish and yes I didn't think right. But all I wanted was for everyone to be safe of what was happening. I didn't want all of you to be the center of that war any longer. They got what they wanted, a dead commander. And I got what I wanted, my revenge." His teeth clenched as he spoke the last sentence. "But always above that was that I wanted all of you to be safe. I looked after you, long before I was convinced to join as 76."

There was still silence in the room, because nobody just knew how to handle the situation correctly. Jack was just trying to justify his actions over and over, but at that moment everything was too overwhelming.

"You know, I think we have enough time to get this all cleared up." Reinhardt got up from his chair and walked toward Jack. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "But for now I think you should make it up to someone." His eyes quickly went over to the door where Mercy just stomped out moments before. "But give her time. It hit her the hardest." He took his hand off the shoulder and walked out of the room himself.


She had hoped that hot water embracing her body would take away the numbness that filled her body from time to time – a side effect? She didn't know. A shower was what she hoped would wash off the dirt and blood, not only on her outside but also the thoughts and pictures that kept flashing in front of her eyes. She kicked the blood stained clothes into the corner of the small bathroom, then set she shower to the hottest temperature and just let the drops follow every line of her body. She shivered when it made the first contact, but after a few seconds she could feel the hot water leaving burning trails on her skin. Like acid they washed away the dirt and like medicine they loosened up her tensed muscles. Her headache seemed to lessen as soon as the heat spread on her head and continued its way down her spine. She could have stayed there forever, just letting the water wash away everything that didn't belong to her. But after a while the heat got too much for her, and after a quickly cleaning routine she stepped out of the shower.

She stared into the reflection that appeared in the mirror in front of her. The water had appeared to be like a shield around her, as soon as it stopped flowing on her skin, it seemed all dirt and thoughts came back. Why did this all have to happen? Maybe if she just had become an ordinary doctor she could have had a happy and ordinary life. She spent the past years mourning a man who didn't even die, she wasted her breath and her tears to something that did not even happen. And her best friend? Gabriel? What did she do to him – a sob escaped her mouth, her eyes were filling with tears again. Why? Why? Why? She died today. By the hands of people who once were the nicest friends. They had turned into an enemy. She thought she had lost her beloved, who had lied to her for years instead.

With her hands clenched to fists, she was staring at the bloodshot eyes looking back at her. "Why?" She cried out and her fist hit the mirror at the point where she saw her own face. Her hand was shaking and covered with blood and cuts. Not feeling any pain and being numb of any emotion aside from guilt and confusion, her body collapsed on the bathroom floor. She was shaking, breathing heavily, and with quivering lips the sobs were not stopping.

There was a thud against the wall, and the sound of glass shattering. With her condition, he got worried what was happening in her room. He didn't care about anything that had happened that day, he could not leave without knowing she was okay. Even if he was told she needed her time, this was definitely alarming him. The door was locked, but he was strong enough to kick it open. His eyes went around the room, it was dark and calm, as if nobody had been there the whole day. Then he saw light coming from below the door that lead to the bathroom, and quiet sounds of crying. He immediately turned his head toward the door, and took slow steps forward. Lightly putting his hand on the handle to not scare Mercy, he pushed it down and slowly opened the door. What first revealed to his eyesight was she shattered mirror and blood all around it. He gasped, making him to open the door in a quick swing. What he saw broke his heart. He found a small blonde woman rolled up and naked on the cold bathroom floor. She was all wet, her hair soaking of water. Instinctively, he approached the quivering body and tried to turn her around. Her eyes were red and her gaze met his eyes, but she looked through him. She kept sobbing, even though his hands were holding her face. Slowly, he lifted her body up and held her in his arms. Her head buried in his chest, he felt the racing heartbeat. Her body was shaking, making it difficult for his to sit still. He didn't say a word, he just held her close. His right hand was trying to pick out the strands of hair from her face that were covering her eyes.

He couldn't tell for how long he was just sitting there, holding her, while she was crying her heart out. He never said a word, knowing exactly that it was all he could do. And knowing that crying was everything he could let her do after everything.

Eventually, he picked up a towel and started drying her body as good as he could. Wrapping her up in the towel, guessing she might be shaking because of the cold floor, he tried to calm her down. He rested his chin on her hair, pressing her as close as he could. She didn't object, and her breathing started to be more even after some time.

He kissed the top of her head, ensuring he still held her close. After some time, he noticed her crying had stopped. Their heartbeats were calm, almost in sync.

As he moved his head around to face her, he found that she fell asleep.