Note: We're back. Happy holidays. Also, Blizzard sucks, and they need to stop. We're fairly convinced they're doing this just to make our lives miserable. First, they introduce Sombra, and we have to change our whole story to accommodate her. Then, right when we're about to upload a new chapter, Blizzard comes out and releases vital new details about Tracer, and we have to write the whole thing all over again. Do you know how hard it is to write lore-accurate fanfiction when important parts of the source material are updated at random? It sucks. It sucks hard. And they suck for doing it. But luckily, we're adaptable, and as such, the character details have been accounted for. If they do this again, we're not changing anything. We probably will though, because we hate ourselves. Anyway, here's a new chapter. Enjoy.

"Lena. It's time to get up now."

Lena moaned in protest. She felt the warmth of the morning sun on her cheeks flooding past the window, and slid her bare legs through the satin sheets covering her bed. She nestled her head further into the cotton-clothed lap that made her pillow, breathing softly into the gentle hand that caressed her face.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Lena's eyes flickered open. As the world came into focus, her gaze locked onto the beautiful, red-headed angel smiling down at her. She playfully swatted at the woman, who caught the hand and entangled it with her own.

"Do I have to get up now?" Lena groaned.

"It's getting late," said the gorgeous creature, "and you have plenty of work to do."

"I don't want to do any work," Lena said, closing her eyes. "I just want to lie here forever. With you."

"We both know that can't happen," the woman cooed, delivering soft kisses to each of Lena's fingers. "They need you. Besides, I'm not even real. You're still dreaming."

"And?" Lena giggled. "Let me dream, Em. They can wait."

Emily laughed softly, running her hand up Lena's cheek to rummage through her dark hair. "You might be timeless, Lena," she whispered, "but they aren't. You can't save them unless you get up."

Lena sighed, but smiled nonetheless. "Will I see you when I fall asleep tonight?"

"How about," Emily suggested, "you wake up, you defeat the bad guys, and then you can see me. The real me. Sound good to you?"

"Sounds perfect," Lena said in bliss.

"Good," said Emily. "Now, wake up."

Lena opened her eyes. The softness and comfort of her bed were gone, replaced with the aggressive coldness of the medical bay. Her body was rigid underneath the thin, cotton blanket, and in every direction she looked, she was overwhelmed by the blank white that colored the room. She could not tell how much time had passed, but she did notice two other, very important things. The first was that she was not alone; sitting in a chair to her left, feet kicked up on her bed and arms crossed over his chest, was a very casually dressed Jesse McCree, whose wide-brimmed hat was pulled down over his eyes. The second thing she noticed was the blistering migraine, and the painful sensation that her brain was about to burst out of her skull.

She let out a pained gasp, bolting upright on the bed. Jesse did not move from his relaxed position as he spoke.

"So, you finally decided to get up."

"What… what happened?" Lena asked, clutching her head with both hands.

"You passed out about twelve hours ago," Jesse explained, uncomfortably calm. "From what they told me, it was pretty bad. I've been here keeping an eye on you since before dawn. Been trying to make up for the lost hours."

"I passed out?"

"Well, first you had a seizure."

"A seizure?" Lena asked in shock. "Do they know why I had a seizure?"

"Well, let's see," Jesse said, scratching his chin. "There was a lot of science talk that was kind of hard to follow. The gist of it is you're suffering the aftereffects of 'chronal disappearance' or something."

"Chronal disassociation?" Lena corrected him.

"Let's go with that," Jesse said with a shrug. "Winston tried explaining it to me. He said that floating around outside of reality for such a long time and suddenly being yanked back messed you up a bit. He said something about how your brain's sense of reality and your body's sense of reality aren't synchronized properly. He told me to think of it kind of like jetlag, except its space-time instead of normal time, and instead of feeling tired, you almost die."

Lena took a deep breath, struggling to accept her diagnosis. "Am I… am I okay now?"

"I think I'm supposed to ask you that, kid." Jesse smirked, raising his hat to meet her gaze. "How you feeling?"

"Like my head is trying to tear itself off my shoulders," Lena stated, fighting back the urge to cry out in agony.

"Sorry to hear that. Thought the worst of it was over when Winston found you floating in the ether."

"I thought the worst of it was over years ago," Lena admitted. She collapsed onto the bed, and pulled up the covers. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world in the hopes that the pain would stay out with it. Naturally, it was a fruitless effort. With her luck, as of late, she was not very surprised. She could add being prone to seizures and violent trips across the multiple planes of existence to the list of things she experienced that most twenty-six-year-old women did not, only this time, she was quite certain that was a bad thing.

"I'm not sure if sleeping is the best thing for you right now. You only just got up."

"And I wish I hadn't," Lena groaned. She knew there was something crucial she needed to say, but she could hardly think past the torture in her mind. She turned over on her side, desperate to ease the horrid aching.

"Well, regardless, I should probably go tell them that you're awake," Jesse said, stretching his arms. He casually rocked to his feet, and without prompting, patted Lena on top of her head. "Try not to die while I'm gone, okay?"

Jesse left the room quietly, shutting off the some of the unnecessary lights as he made his exit. Many years ago, Lena probably would have felt offended by his comments but she knew Jesse well enough to understand the kindness behind his words. Being uncompromisingly brash was simply the way he was, and knowing that constant remained eased her mind. Things had changed so much in her life in only a couple of months. One moment she was living a peaceful life in London, and the next, she was swept back into Overwatch to fight a threat that—for all she knew—would never end. She left plenty behind to reunite with her team, and now it all seemed like it was about to fall apart, the same as before.

And then, like a flash of lightning, it came back to her all at once. Her visions flooded back to her, and her eyes shot open. In a fever, she bolted to her feet, and ran towards the door. However, after only a couple steps, she tumbled to the floor, coming to a full stop. She felt as if the life had been sucked right out of her body, and the burning in her skull intensified, to the point where she could no longer concentrate on the world around her. She planted her head firmly on the cold, hard ground, crying out in distress. Seconds later, Jesse walked through the doorway, a bottle of pills in his hand and a look of dissatisfaction on his face.

"That was the other thing they wanted me to tell you," he said plainly. "You shouldn't try to move too much."

Lena opened her mouth, but the words were too difficult to form. Jesse carefully wrapped his arms around her thin frame, and carried her back to bed. He gently laid her down before walking to the sink, filling up a small paper cup with water.

"I got something that should help with the headache," he stated, walking back to her bedside. "The label says to take two of these. I'd recommend three. Or four. Or seven."

"Je…Jesse…" Lena gasped. The gunslinger shushed her.

"Stop talking," he instructed her. "Jeez, you look like you're about to keel over. Now let me see here…" He held the bottle of pills close to his face, squinting at the label. "Side effects may include: dizziness, nausea, drowsiness, cramps, etcetera, etcetera. Do not operate vehicles after use. Do not use if pregnant. Do not use if—"

"Jesse!" Lena blurted out finally. "Where's Winston?"

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Winston? He's been working with Angela since they brought you in."

"Are they alone?"

"Yeah, doing their work. Why?"

"You need to stop them," Lena said quickly. "Get Winston away from her, or get someone else there to watch him. Do something—"

"Whoa, whoa there, girl," Jesse stopped her. "I'm going to need you to take a breather. Take the pills, and then talk."

"There's no time," Lena said hurriedly. "If we don't stop them, Winston will—"

"Oxton," Jesse said sternly, silencing her. "Medicine first. Winston later."

Lena begrudgingly swiped the materials from his grasp, and downed three pills as fast as she could. She gulped down her water, and then let the words flow freely from her lips.

"I had a vision while I was out," she explained. "More visions than last time. I don't know how or why, but soon, Winston is going to get attacked."

"Attacked?" Jesse asked. "Who attacks him?"

"I… I think Angela does it," Lena said worriedly. "I can't be sure. I didn't actually see the attack, only its aftermath. But, from what I could tell, everyone in Overwatch blames her for it."

"Didn't you already tell us this?"

"No, this is different!" Lena said forcefully. "This attack happens sooner than the other one. Or maybe it happens instead of the other one. I don't know how this time travel thing works." Lena clutched her head, and winced. "You need to get them away from each other. That's all I—"

Lena paused, noticing a figure standing awkwardly in the doorframe. The bespectacled watched the conversation with a dumbstruck look on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Is, uh," Mei stammered, "is this a bad time?"

"No, it's fine," Jesse said. "You two can talk, if you want. I have to go check on some things." With a nod, the gunslinger left. Mei nervously stepped into the dimly lit room, fidgeting in her sweatpants.

"I wanted to check on how you're feeling," Mei claimed.

"Not too well," said Lena, "but thanks."

"Oh, it's nothing," Mei shrugged. "Everyone's worried about you. Well, they're worried about a lot of things, but you, primarily." She adjusted her glasses, and stared at the floor. "So… something's going on with you and McCree?"

"Hopefully, he's taking care of it. You shouldn't have anything to worry about."

"Well, not until we all blow up, right?" Mei said with a small laugh. Lena did not laugh. Mei stopped laughing. "Anyhoo, is there something I can get you? Food? Water? I can bake you a cake. You could probably use the sugar."

"Mei, what's wrong?"

Mei coughed nervously.

"What are you talking about? Nothing's wrong except you. Not that you're wrong. You're not wrong. You're great. Perfect even. Just absolutely perfect in every single—"

"What happened while I was out, Mei?" Lena asked, suspicious.

"I don't want you to get upset with me."

"Spit it out, love," Lena said. "I got a blistering headache, and I'm not in the mood for you to be playing around with me."

Mei rocked back and forth on her heels, a dark blush overtaking her face. She clicked her tongue around her mouth several times, before casually spitting out, "Emily might know about what happened to you."

And with that, Lena's streak of bad luck continued.

"What do you mean she knows?" the time traveler shouted frantically.

"Don't get mad, don't get mad, don't get mad," Mei said in a small, terrified voice.

"How does she know? Did you call her?"

"Here's what happened," Mei explained as fast as she could. "I was talking to Fareeha, right? And we were having this pretty good conversation about the environmental conservatism, because it turns out she has sort of an interest in that, but then your cell phone started going off like crazy, and Fareeha—not me, definitely not me—decided to take a peek at it, and she was like, 'This lady is asking a lot of things about Tracer and why she hasn't called her back in the past few days,' and she only just joined so she doesn't know who Emily is, and I wasn't thinking and I didn't know who was texting so I just told Fareeha to type back that you were in an accident, but then afterwards she told me that it was Emily, and then Emily started to call you over and over and over again, and I freaked out, and I ran to tell you, and now I'm here, and absolutely blame Fareeha."

Lena rubbed her temples. Her migraine seemed to increase its intensity tenfold from hearing Mei's news, and she secretly wished that she would have another seizure just so she could pass out again and forget about everything. It took many long, stressful hours of arguing and debate to convince her girlfriend to let her rejoin Overwatch after the recall. One of the key factors of their final agreement was that Lena would make sure she did not seriously maim or injure herself, a promise that neither knew they could keep but considered vital nonetheless. The last thing she needed was Emily freaking out about her injuries.

"I'm really don't have time for this," Lena moaned. "Fine. I'll give her a call and see if I can explain it to her without her having a stroke."

"Your phone was destroyed."

"Are you kidding me, Mei?" Lena screamed. "How? How the hell did my cellphone get destroyed in all this?"

"Fareeha threw it against a wall."

"Why would she do that?"

"She got annoyed at the constant phone calls."

"She didn't think that maybe she should try to answer it? With words?"

"Her whole thing is that she blows stuff up!" Mei cried defensively. "What makes you think that she would take a subtle approach to anything?"

Lena aggressively threw herself into her pillow. She did not want to say she was a person who hated life. In fact, she rather enjoyed most of the things in it. However, as of late, she hated everything. Her life was falling apart, piece-by-piece, and with every passing moment, and with every glimpse into the future, it seemed things would somehow only get worse.

Within ten seconds, she was proven right, as the entire building suddenly shook violently, and explosion was heard off in the distance. The two heroes snapped to attention, exchanging confused and worried glances with each other before simultaneously running off towards the source of the explosion. Lena followed behind Mei, moving sluggishly. On any other day, she could outpace anyone on their team, but it was a struggle just to stay on her feet. She hugged the wall, using it as a support as she ran the seemingly infinite distance from the medical bay to the central computer hub.

When they finally arrived, what they saw was the charred remains of the room that served as the center of the base. Everything had been blown to pieces; computer parts were spread out haphazardly on the floor, and the wreckage of tables of chairs strewn elsewhere. Jesse and Angela lied in the front corners of the room, both groaning in pain as they struggled to their feet, their bodies covered in ash. However, what caught their attention the most was the massive, unconscious gorilla that lied crumpled in the center of the room.

"Winston!" Mei screamed, dashing to his side. She quickly brushed pieces of rubble off his body, and pressed her head to his chest. "He's not breathing! We need to do something."

As Mei desperately searched around for something to assist her, Lena's gaze drifted. Her eyes locked onto Angela, who valiantly fought to her feet, crying out in pain as she moved her legs. Instinctively, she walked over to the doctor, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Every fiber in her being told her that something was wrong, and she needed to run away, but something planted her in her spot.

"Angela, are you okay?" Lena asked. The doctor turned to look at her, her blue eyes staring at Lena with shock. The two gazed at each other for a long time, unspeaking and unwavering. "Angela, what happened?"

The doctor remained silent, as if she did not understand the question. She could not stop staring at Lena's face, examining it, studying every last detail. Lena leaned in, trying to get a better look to see if she suffered any injuries from the blast.

And then, Angela growled, and lunged forward tackling Lena to the ground. Before Lena could react, Angela hovered over her, wrapping two hands around her throat, and squeezing as hard as she could. Lena gasped for breath, trying in vain to shove Angela away. Mei watched from a distance, too stunned to move.

"You have to be eliminated," Angela stated passionately, never breaking eye-contact. "For the good of the world, I must take you down."

"Ang… Angela…" Lena gasped, struggling for air. Angela was determined to squeeze every molecule of air out of her body, and she did not have the strength to fight back. No matter how hard she struggled, she would never be able to break free.

"Don't try to fight. Accept your fate," Angela droned. "I will—"

Suddenly, the butt of a revolver cracked against Angela's skull, and she tumbled to the ground. Lena took a deep breath, choking and sputtering on the floor. McCree stood over both of them, gun in hand, watching as the blood started to pool out of the gash in Angela's head. The other members of Overwatch entered the room one-by-one, clueless to what events transpired. Jesse helped Lena to her feet, and she looked down at Angela, who lied unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

"Well, Lena," Jesse said bluntly, "looks your vision came true after all."