Hello! I'm so sorry for the long wait since chapter 2... but finals and reviews for them hit like a truck and I didn't want to publish rushed chapters for the sake of publishing them.
Thank you so much for the kudos, hits, comments and bookmarks! They mean the world to me. I hope you keep on enjoying this story!
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Path to Redemption
Chapter 3
Reminiscence

Tracer was jolted awake by atrocious screams. It took the brunette a few seconds to come back to her senses, but she promptly anchored herself in reality: she was in Widowmaker's house, more precisely lying on the bed of one of the guest rooms, with Emily by her side. Emily, whose haunted cries had ripped her from Morpheus' arms. The pilot scrambled to find the switch of the small lamp on the bedside table; when she did, the resulting dull glow was enough to see the terror on her girlfriend's face. Although Emily was still asleep, her features were twisted in what Tracer could only describe as agony. Beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead, mixing with the tears dripping from her eyes.

"Lily, love, it's okay. You're safe. I'm here for you." whispered Lena as she pet her lover's damp hair.

She had hoped her words and soothing motions would reach Emily without needing to wake her up. But the young woman kept on shouting and crying, and with a resigned sigh Tracer decided to drag Emily away from the nightmares eating her alive. She grabbed her lover's shoulders and shook them, repeating Emily's name over and over until the redhead was awake.

"L-Lena!"
"I'm here, darling. I'm here."

With broken sobs, Emily held on tight to the brunette, rambling about the dreadful visions she was assaulted by during her sleep. Tracer didn't understand half of what she said, but she stayed nonetheless, with her arms wrapped around Emily's shaking frame.
The door suddenly opened, causing Tracer's lover to yelp. Lena herself readied herself to jump at an attacker's throat, but the intruder was none other than Widowmaker. Wrapped in a dressing gown, she was carrying a glass of water and a pack of pills.

"I should have given you those before you went to sleep. It would have spared everyone here some trouble."

Tracer shot Widowmaker a dark glance. Emily was clearly in the middle of an emotional meltdown, and it wasn't really the moment to qualify her episode as bothersome for everyone. Nevertheless, the pilot was grateful when she read the label on the pills Widowmaker handed her- they were sleeping pills.

"One should be enough for a dreamless sleep. Good night."

The sniper put the water glass on the bedside table and left without adding another word. Lena looked at Widowmaker as the woman left the room, noticing that she took care to close the door with as little noise as possible. The gesture warmed her heart.
Quickly shaking the French assassin out of her mind, Tracer grabbed the glass and handed it to Emily along with a pill.

"Take it, okay? It will help chasing the nightmares."
"What-what if it's poison? How can I t-trust her?"

Lena's eyes opened wide at Emily's suspicions. Although she did understand her partner's skepcticism, Widowmaker had pretty much betrayed Talon by refusing to execute Lena's significant other and, on top of that, helping two prisoners escape. The brunette reached for Emily's cheek, gently stroking the sweaty skin.

"Lily, she has no reason to harm you. Not after what she did."

It took quite some time, but in the end, Tracer was able to convince Emily to swallow the medicine. The rousse laid down under the covers, Tracer watching her fall asleep again. When she was certain her lover had peacefully returned to dreamland, Tracer pressed a kiss to her girlfriend's plump lips and left the room. She felt guilty for leaving Emily alone, but after what they had been through, seeing her loved one in such an hysterical state was too much. Lena wasn't feeling tired anyways, and decided to head to the living room. She had noticed a large bookshelf there; surely, Widowmaker wouldn't mind if she borrowed a book.

However, her plans came to a halt when she noticed someone was sitting on the couch. Widowmaker, still wearing her dressing gown, was drinking from a mug and looking at a heavy book lying on her lap. When she heard Tracer coming down the stairs, she barely lifted her head.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't go back to sleep."

Her tone seemed as dull as usual, but Tracer was almost sure it held a hint of annoyance. Taking Widowmaker's silence as an invitation, she sat on the loveseat next to the couch the assassin occupied.

"I don't need much sleep."
"Colored me surprised." the sniper sighed.

The pair stayed in silence for a while, the occasional sound of a page flipping being the only source of noise in the room. Tracer used the moment to study her host; although they had met countless times on the battlefield, the pilot had never taken the time to truly look at her nemesis.
The woman's long purple hair was pulled back into a ponytail, as usual; however, for once some strands were loose, falling on the side of her head and the nape of her neck. She wasn't wearing any makeup, revealing blue lips as well as bags under her yellow eyes. For the first time, Lena noticed Widowmaker's skin wasn't as uniform that she thought; here and there, purple veins were clearly visible, forming small webs. The sniper's silky dressing gown was a pale pink, and its folds hinted that it hadn't been worn in a while. The Overwatch agent couldn't see what Widowmaker wore underneath the pink garnment, but it was probably pretty short given that Tracer could see the beginging of Widow's cleveage as well as her long, slender legs.

"Are you done staring?"

Caught off guard, Lena coughed nervously. She didn't mean to be weird or anything; it was merely curiosity.

"Sorry. Whatcha reading?"

She had been curious about that too, and if Widowmaker had caught her spying, she might as well quench her thirst by directly asking.
The sniper didn't answer for a few moments, and Tracer was sure she saw a hint of hesitation on her stern face. But the former Talon agent shrugged, before scooting a bit to the side, in a gesture Tracer interpreted as an invitation to sit next to her. The brunette jumped to her feet and obliged, tucking her legs under her rear as she sat down.

"Oh! Is that a family album?"
"You could say that, yes."

The thick album was opened on a page filled with pictures on one side, and with a very thin screen on the other. Ana had a similar one, and Tracer knew that it was a way to store both pictures and movies in an vintage looking object.
The pilot looked at the two pictures on the left side. One was of a teen wearing a white and vapoury tutu, and the other featured a young guessed both were pictures of Widowmaker. The Overwatch agent slowly slid her finger on the screen, which flickered before displaying a short clip. No doubt was possible this time: it displayed Widowmaker, clad in a adorned tutu, spining gracefully on a stage. It was jarring to see the soft smile on the dancer's face, to see her eyes glint with happiness.

"Before I joined Talon, I was a ballerina." Widowmaker explained when the clip played for the second time. "A member of the Opéra de Paris."
"You danced very well." Tracer complimented, her eyes stuck on the ballerina's delicate movments. "Why'd you stop?"

Tracer's question was genuine. The woman Widow used to be was clearly talented and, judging by her expression, passionate about what she did. The pilot was curious as to why she'd leave that life, kill her husband and go on to join a criminal organization.
Widowmaker took her time before answering, her gaze lost in the contemplation of the spinning dancer.

"I don't know." she finally said. The brunette next to her was surprised at her answer, but what truly shocked her was the look on the sniper's face. A mix of confusion and doubt that felt out of place on the assassin's usually impassible features. "It felt... right. Like it was my true calling."
"But... you seemed so happy when dancing." Tracer insisted. "And on those pictures with your-"
"Shut up!"

Widowmaker's eyes were sparkling with a sudden fire, and her face was twisted in an expression that was both angry and afraid. For the first time, Tracer felt something akin to pity towards her enemy, and before she knew it, her hand found its way to Widow's shoulder.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

The slender woman shot her a dark glance, but she didn't move away from Lena's touch. The pair stayed like this for a while, Tracer letting her hand linger on Widow's shoulder while the sniper flipped through the album.
Suddenly, as the sun was starting to rise behind the bay windows of the living room, a dull noise broke the silence. It was a familiar noise, one Tracer knew too well: the sound of a chopper approching. And she was sure that helicopter was coming for them; what else would it be coming for, on an early Tuesday morning, in the mountains.
The pilot jumped to her feet, rushing to the window to try and spot the helicopter.

"They're finally here." announced Widowmaker as she got up. "Go get your little girlfriend."

Tracer shot her host a dark look. Had Emily's suspicions been right? The assassin couldn't have sold them to Talon, not after rescuing them... right?
The sniper must have sensed Tracer's panic, as she let out a joyless laugh.

"Oh, you don't actually think I'd betray you, do you, chérie? I called your Overwatch friends before you went to sleep. Simple as that."

The news greatly relieved the brunette, and she let out a heavy sigh. She thanked her interlocutor, before rushing upstairs to Emily. The rousse was still asleep, and Tracer barely managed to wake her up; the pill she had taken was still operating its soporific magic, and Emily was somewhere between awake and asleep. Tracer helped her get dressed, before putting on clothes too. They were back downstairs within minutes; the chopper's noise had grown louder, and Tracer guessed the cavalry would be here in a few minutes.

"I don't know how I can ever repay what you did, Widow. You saved me... and more that that, you saved the person I love the most. I'm forever indebted to you."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Widowmaker seemed to have gone back to her old self, all cold eyes and icy tone, so far from the person she was when Tracer had sat down next to her to look at old pictures. There was an awkward silence, before the door busted open on Winston and D. Va:

"Tracer? Emily?"

Hearing the gorilla's deep voice warmed Tracer's heart, and she couldn't repress the smile that crept on her face.

"Over here, big guy!"

The newcomers rushed to the couple, while looking curiously at Widowmaker. quickly ignored the sniper, though, choosing to rush to Tracer and to embrace her in a tight hug.

"Lena! Oh my god, I was so scared!"

The brunette gently pet Hana's hair, while Winston timidly saluted Tracer and Emily's savior.

"It's... uh, it's been a while, Amélie."
"My name is Widowmaker."

Tracer couldn't help but notice something terribly wrong with the assassin's answer. She hadn't dissmissed the name "Amélie" in a way that meant she didn't want to be called so anymore, but rather seemed genuinely confused by Winston's greetings.

The door opened once more, this time on Ana and Mercy. They were whispering to each other as they stepped in, only stopping when they reached the group.

"Are you finally going to leave?" Widowmaker sighed. "I don't appreciate having people like you in my house."
"Don't worry, we'll be leaving very shortly." assured Mercy. "But you're coming with us."

Without leaving Widowmaker any time to react, Ana drew her dart gun from under her cape and shot the sniper in the neck. There was a faint look of shock on the woman's face, before she collapsed to the ground, entirely passed out.

"Don't tell me we're making her prisonner? She saved us!" gasped Tracer, gently pushing Hana aside to check on her host.
"We have... uncovered a lot about Talon and her lately." explained Ana, looking gloomy. "There are things she needs to know."

The group quickly left the house, Tracer helping Emily walk while Winston carried Widowmaker's unconscious form. Lena took care to close the door properly, tucking the key in the pocket inside her jacket.