July 23th, 2078, Moscow, Russia, Overwatch field hospital, Moscow, 09:17 MST [Day Of] the confirmed MIA report for RCAF pilot : David "Jackal" Mcallister was filed.

Tracer's POV

I awoke to the whirring of machinery and the sustained, all-too familiar beeping of an ECG. I sat up, looking around at the white, hygienic room, until my gaze suddenly fell on the back of a man who was sitting in a white, plastic chair, his back turned towards me, his feet propped up on a metal desk in the corner of the room. At first glance, I assumed he was McCree, but once I got a better look at him I realized he looked almost nothing like my favourite gun-slinger.

For one thing, his hair wasn't light brown, like McCree's, rather, there were a few locks of a very dark brown, almost black, protruding from under a standard-issue CRAF helmet, though it was so beaten up and muddy it was hard to tell. He was also much taller than McCree, probably about 6'2, though it was hard to tell from his sitting position. He also didn't have a shirt on for some reason.

"Excuse me, but what the bloody hell are you doing in here," I questioned indignantly.

The man jumped slightly at the abrupt sound of my voice and turned to face me. Unfortunately, he moved so quickly that his booted feet knocked over a lamp that had been sitting on the desk as he turned, smashing the light bulb.

"Sunuva bitch," he muttered, "sorry, be with you in a second."

I was now able to see his front as he crouched down to clean up the broken glass and put it in the trash can. The first thing I noticed were his piercing blue eyes, which, even though they didn't contrast his dark hair, stood out on his well-defined face. Apart from his face, he looked pretty bad. Not his physique, mind you, that was, him being in the military and all, way above average. No, what worried me was the dozens of shoddily sewn wounds all over his body; more than one of them looked like bullet wounds and several of them still had small trickles of blood coming from them, staining the otherwise clean floor.

"Um, are you going to be all right there, luv? You seem to have sprung a leak," I said.

"Hmm?" He stopped picking up the glass momentarily, "oh these? No, these are no problem, trust me I've had much worse."

He continued to pick up the glass for a minute or two and then stood up and faced me.

"Ok now that that's all done," He leaned forward, smiling and extended a hand, "Hi, my name is David"

"Tracer," I said, shaking his hand, not quite ready to tell this strange man my real name.

"So, Tracer, what can you remember," he asked, gesturing to my forehead, " you got a pretty bad concussion from some debris."

I tried to recall what had happened before I had woken up here.

"I had been deployed to some Russian city… Arkhangelsk I think? Yeah, that was it," he nodded in agreement, "um...I had been split up from my fellow Overwatch agents by Omnics and that's when I saw some bloke trying to take on an Eradicator by himself… oh bloody hell, was that you?"

He nodded and I recalled seeing the dumbass trying to blow up that titan with a stick of C-4, but at that point I had valiantly blinked in to save him.

"Uh, yeah, that was me," he said, taking his helmet off and sitting at the foot of the cot, "thanks for that, by the way."

"Oh yeah, no problem, I only paid for it with possible brain damage," I sarcastically replied.

"You were only out for a couple of minutes, you should be fine," he countered.

"Whatever," I mumble, still miffed, "anyway, back to the original question, why the hell are you in my room?"

David then told me all about his bombing mission, the death of his squad mate and how, after I was knocked out, he had dragged me and his friend through no man's land, all the way to British lines, getting shot several times in the process.

"So yeah, that's why I'm here," he finished.

I processed his words for a minute, thinking about what this man had been through just to save a couple of people, one of whom he didn't even know, he truly was a hero.

"Well damn," I paused, slightly flustered by all David had been through in one short day, "I guess you're probably pretty tired, huh?

"Well, Yeah, but I wouldn't want to take up a room that a patient could use, this place is pretty crowded already."

"That's bull, luv! you've been through more than most of these people, anyway," I exclaimed, trying to stand up so I could find someone to get this guy somewhere proper to sleep, only to be overcame by a wave of nausea. I probably would have gotten a second concussion from the floor if David hadn't caught me at the last second.

"Woah, there," he said, picking me up, bridal style, and placing me gently back on the bed, "it's fine, I'll just sleep in the chair if that's ok with you."

I looked to the shitty plastic chair he was talking about, which was hardly more than a glorified lawn chair, I then looked at my own bed, a queen size, which was far more space than I needed and I decided that he deserved a comfortable sleep after all he had done for me.

"Look, you can just sleep here," I patted the bed, "soldiers always share sleeping areas after all, so I'm used to it.

"Are you sure," he asked cautiously, "I'm fine with the chair, honestly."

"No, really, it's fine, I don't mind."

He slowly made his way over to the other side of the bed and sat down on it, took a moment to remove his combat boots and then swung his legs onto the bed, awkwardly limiting the space in between us so that our backs were touching. I could feel heat emanate of him like a furnace, as if his body's natural habitat was in the snowy tundra of Russia.

Jeez this bed is smaller than I thought, we're basically backwards spooning.

With that thought occupying my mind, I was glad he couldn't see my face, because at this point I was beet red as my mind forced me to remember his shirtless state…

Fucking chill Lena.

I quietly suppressed these thoughts and eventually drifted off once again into a deep sleep, back pressed against the man I had met 20 minutes ago.

Hey Hey, Leaf here. Sorry for the miniature chapter… ugh it's so short. Whatever though, I wanted to get a chapter out there and I dare say some of you wanted that too. This chapter was chalk-full of important shit, from laying the foundation of the relationship to giving a physical description of David, though. I also hope you guys liked the Tracer POV, though it won't happen that often.

Next chapter we'll do some actual Overwatch Shit, I'm not sure if David will be recruited at that point though.

Anyway, thanks for reading and sorry for excessive commas.

ALSO A GOOD SONG IS MORRISEY'S "SPENT THE DAY IN BED" IT'S AMAZING