Note: We're back! After many months, we're back! Sorry for leaving you on a terrible cliffhanger. But now we're finally continuing the story where we left off. Hope you enjoy.

Lena realized she wasn't dead when the pain hit her. It overtook instantaneously and ferociously, burning through every cell in her body. It was the first sensation to strike her after what seemed like an eternity drifting through nothingness, and it quickly consumed her with little resistance. She lied in darkness, unable to move or even think as she trembled under its control. She had no idea how long she remained like that, lost in the torture. She had no idea what had become of her, how she had ended up in such a damaged state. Everything was blurred by the blackness, the agony that pumped through her veins like poisoned blood.

"Lena? Lena, can you hear me? Lena?"

Lena heard someone calling her from far away, like something out of a lost dream. She tried navigating towards it through the darkness, fighting against the crippling force intended on keeping her still. Gradually, she felt the numbness fade. At first, the feeling returned in the tips of her fingers, which felt smothered beneath something soft and tight. Next, it came back to her toes, which clenched and curled involuntarily. The warmth traveled slowly towards her center, and with it came bits and pieces of her remaining energy. As the life returned to her body and the numbness begin to subside, she heard the voice growing louder and stronger in her ears, beckoning her back into the world. She fought through the agony to reach it, channeling what remained of her strength, and even then, it took every ounce of willpower she had just to open her eyes.

When the haze faded away, the first thing she saw was the unmistakable face of a woman staring down at her, consumed with worry. Two frightened hazel eyes watched her every movement with care, bright red hair haphazardly strewn about her drained face. She was wearing a bright pink T-shirt and sweatpants, like she had been plucked from her life suddenly and didn't have time to pack a change of clothes. The woman's hand was wrapped around Lena's own, squeezing it gently, while her other hand was placed on Lena's chest, directly above the cool metal harness that kept her alive. The rest of the room was too bright to make out, but the noises in the background gave her hints: the steady beeping of a heart monitor, the distant sound of busywork from rooms far away, the gentle hum of the power system keeping on the lights.

"E…. Em—"

Emily shushed her quickly. "Please, don't speak," she said almost desperately. Her voice was hoarse, weakened from what sounded like hours of sobbing. "Just… please, don't try to speak."

Lena did not understand what was happening to her. What was Emily doing at the watchpoint? For that matter, what was she doing at the watchpoint? Why couldn't she move? Why was she in so much pain? Everything was so blurry and unfocused and agonizing, and all she wanted to do was scream, but she had no strength to yell and no voice to use. There were memories that came to her in flashes. A dark city skyline. Sharp claws digging into her throat. Warm blood running down her lips. A single phrase repeated over and over again.

A gun pressed to the side of her head.

Lena bolted upright in a panic, but immediately, a horrid sickness took hold of her. Her insides turned, and she threw herself over the side of the bed, grabbing a waste bin nearby and tightly hugging it as her stomach emptied itself of its contents. Emily was there for her, softly rubbing her back as Lena's body rejected her actions.

"It's okay. It's okay," Emily said soothingly. "Lena, you shouldn't make any sudden movements. Just lie down. It'll be okay."

Lena coughed out the remainder of the matter into the bin, her throat burning and her head spinning. She clumsily wiped her mouth with her forearm when she was finished. She dropped the bin to the floor, and collapsed into bed. With half-closed, bloodshot eyes, she watched Emily tenderly brush the hair out of her face, and breathe out a deep sigh.

"You've been out for a long time, Lena," she explained. "It's going to take a while for you to regain your strength."

"How…" Lena muttered, "How long…"

Emily looked down at her hands, struggling to find the words she needed. "It's a bit hard to tell. Mei said that you disappeared from the watchpoint without a trace. They had no idea what happened to you. They didn't know if you were dead or anything really. A few days after you vanished, they detected your accelerator in New York. But with Winston injured, it took them longer than expected to find you…"

"Em," Lena asked impatiently, "how long?"

"You have to understand," said Emily worriedly. "They did everything they could. When they brought you back into our time, you were in bad shape. By the time I finally got here, you were fading in and out of consciousness for days."

"Emily…" Lena begged. Emily sighed.

"Since you disappeared," she stated, "it's been about three weeks."

Lena didn't say anything else. She felt numb, like she was caught in a bad dream she couldn't wake up from. Three weeks. Three full weeks of her taken from her without warning. Three full weeks where Talon could continue their work unchallenged. Three full weeks of her friends worried sick over whether she would survive. Three full weeks of Angela having no one to stand by her side. Three full weeks of Emily being completely alone.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Lena choked out.

"Don't be sorry," Emily said sternly. She brushed loose tears out of her eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

But Lena did have so much to be sorry about. She recalled it vividly now. She was on her knees, broken and tired and deranged from repeating the same moment infinitely, and she realized she couldn't hand the pressure. It was such a simple decision at the time. She put a gun to her head, and she tried to end it. She didn't think about what would happen once she was gone. She didn't think about what would happen to Overwatch when she was gone, or how many people would be endangered by her carelessness. She didn't care about the pain that would have befallen Angela, or the guilt from the members of her team, or the tears that Emily would have shed at her funeral. She was going to kill herself, and the worst part was that she didn't even understand why. She had acted selfishly, and if it wasn't for pure, dumb luck of her chrono accelerator running out of power, she would be gone. She hated herself for it. She hated herself for not having the courage to pull through. She hated herself for recklessly going on a mission she shouldn't have. And most of all, she hated herself for failing. She had failed everyone with her actions. How could she possibly look Emily in the eye and explain that to her?

"I have to…" Lena sputtered. She broke into a coughing fit, and Emily tightened the grip on her hand.

"You aren't doing anything," she insisted. "You are sick, Lena. You don't realize how bad your condition is."

"What's…" Lena asked in-between coughs. "What's wrong with me?"

"They're, well, they're not exactly sure," Emily said as calmly as she could manage. "When they finally found you and pulled you back, your heart had stopped beating. They said that when they found your accelerator, they noticed it had been used a lot before its power ran out. That, combined with drifting out of our time for so long damaged your body somehow. They said they never saw anything like it, and without Angela or Winston to help, it was difficult for them to even keep you alive, even with all of their technology."

"Damaged?" Lena asked worriedly, fighting past the throbbing in her temples.

"You, um… apparently suffered a seizure while you were under," Emily said quietly. It was clear that it was extremely difficult for her to talk about the subject, but she continued regardless. "You kept shouting things in your sleep. You were bleeding out of your nose, and they had to hook you up to a prototype accelerator just so you wouldn't slip out of time again. Mei finally called me and explained what had happened to you. They sent that new recruit, Fareeha, I think, to pick me up, and they flew me here within the day. When I finally saw you, you—" Emily choked down a sob, struggling to stay focused. "—you had all these tubes plugged into your arms. There were so many machines around you, and I just… I just broke down after that."

Emily took a deep breath, wiping away free-flowing tears with the palm of her hand. She wanted to be strong for Lena, but the task was becoming more impossible with each passing moment.

"You had no idea how scared I was," Emily confessed, her soft words brought down to a whisper. "I don't hear from you for so long, and then all of a sudden, this happens and… I know that there was danger involved with this but… I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this…"

Emily closed her eyes. Lena wanted to reach out to her, to hold her tightly, but her body refused to move. Her own eyes began to water, and she was helpless to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. After a few moments in dreadful silence, Lena tried to speak up.

"Em, I need—" Lena gasped in pain. Emily shushed her, but she ignored it and continued. "Angela… I need to see—"

Lena moaned. She couldn't even complete a single thought. She needed to see Angela. She had to tell her that it wasn't her fault, that there was someone controlling her actions. She needed to warn Overwatch about Sombra's plans. However, as Emily kept her head down and solemnly stared at the ground, Lena realized that there was something else being kept from her.

"Em? I need to—"

"Lena. You can't do that," Emily said mournfully. "Angela is… Angela's gone, Lena."

"What?" Lena asked. Angela was gone? What was she talking about? Angela couldn't be gone. She was locked in a cell surrounded by some of the greatest fighters on the planet. How could she possibly be gone?

"There was an incident right after you came back," Emily explained. "I wasn't here for it, but Mei told me what happened. She was led out of her while everyone was distracted with you. I don't really know how to explain this, but Jesse—"

That was all it took for the dread to set in. She phased out of the conversation, not needing to hear another word to know what happened. She had already seen it in her visions: Jesse, desperate to save the team, threatening Angela at gunpoint. He tried to be noble in an effort to save the future, but Angela begged him to spare her life. In the end, he could not do it; he could not sacrifice someone he had known for so long and considered such a dear friend. And in the confusion, Angela must have escaped, running away out of fear. First, Winston's attack, then Angela's plea, her self-destruction in the alley, and now Jesse's attempted betrayal. Four of her visions had already come to pass. There was only one left. She had to stop it.

Lena tried again to rise from the bed, slowly pushing herself up on her elbows, but Emily quickly forced her down.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked with concern.

"Angela," Lena groaned. "I have to find her."

"No, you are not," Emily said sternly. "You are not going after her."

"She needs me," Lena protested, yet Emily held firm.

"You can barely speak, Lena. You can't do this."

"Let me go."

"No. You are done," Emily said powerfully. Lena stopped moving and stared wide-eyed at the heartbroken woman in front of her, her face bright red and contorted with despair. "I… I talked it over with the others," Emily said with resentment. "It took a lot of arguing, but we came to the decision that it would be best if… I brought you back to London with me."

Lena could only stare at Emily with disbelief.

"You… you did what?"

"Lena, you're sick," said Emily. "You're sick, and hurt, and… you can't keep doing this. You can't keep throwing your life away every chance you get."

"I can handle myself," Lena said weakly.

"Look at yourself!" Emily shouted. "What could you possibly do to help in this state? You can't even speak without getting hurt."

"Then I'll get better," Lena moaned. "I'll get stronger. I'll—ah!"

Lena let out a pained gasp. Emily sighed.

"See what I mean?" she said softly. "I know how much this means to you, how much Overwatch means to you. I know you want to be a hero. But you aren't invincible, Lena. This time, you got lucky. Extremely lucky. But next time? Or the time after that? Even you can't outrun this forever."

"You don't understand," claimed Lena, her resolve starting to weaken. "I'm the only one… the only one… who can stop them. She needs me…" Lena broke down into a coughing fit. Emily simply watched her in silence, tightly squeezing her hand.

"You've done everything you can for her," Emily stated sincerely. "I get that you care. I really do. But Angela wouldn't want you to kill yourself for her. She would want you to do everything in your power to get better, to be safe. You know I'm right."

"No," Lena moaned, her voice breaking. "No, no, no… I can't… I can't leave them. They're family."

"I'm your family, too," Emily whispered. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Lena's, as the wounded creature began to cry once more. "I can't watch you do this. I just can't. I knew when you agreed to come back that you might not come back, but I let you go because I knew it was what you wanted to do. And believe me, I am so proud of everything you've done. But Lena, this isn't your home. This isn't your life anymore. Your life is back in London, with me. I know this hurts, but please… do this for me, okay? Come back home."

Lena was powerless. Her words and her will had faded away, replaced with broken, uneven sobs. She fell forward lifelessly into Emily's arms, and cried into her shoulder. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. She clumsily wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, and tried her best to hang on. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many things she wanted apologize for. Yet, all they could do was sit on the bed, wrapped in each other's sorrow. Lena did not know how long it would take for her to recover. It could have been a matter of days, or it might have taken months. All she knew was that she would have someone by her side to help her through it. It pained her to leave Angela behind, but deep down, she knew Angela would have wanted the same thing. It would be up to the others to find her.

Lena only hoped they wouldn't be too late.

"Is that it?" Widowmaker asked with a dead expression. Sombra did not bother looking at her. She was too distracted by the beautiful piece of machinery several inches in front of her nose. And how beautiful it was, glistening in the neon glow of her enhancements, its perfect symmetry bringing her absolute delight.

"Shhhh," Sombra said, thrusting a single finger in the assassin's face. "You are ruining the moment."

"It's a bomb," Widowmaker muttered, unimpressed.

"A bomb? Pssht," Sombra said dismissively. "This is the most important bomb in all of human history. The pinnacle of my work. The perfect combination of sophisticated modern technology and traditional brute strength. It's so much more than a bomb, chica."

"You are far too enamored with that thing," Widowmaker said snidely. Sombra frowned, and placed her hands on her hips, looking at Widowmaker with disdain.

"Hey, you're the one that hired me to build this for you," Sombra chastised her. "I would think you would be happier." Sombra paused for a moment, and then shook her head. "Eh, who am I kidding? You're never happy, are you? Seriously, have you ever not been scowling?"

"Just make sure that the damn machine works like it's supposed to," Widowmaker growled. Sombra walked over to her, getting right up in her face. She studied her, curiously bobbing her head from side-to-side. Widowmaker cast her gaze away, and Sombra grinned.

"You're mad at me for something," she said. There was almost a hint of pride in her voice. "Come on. What did I do?"

"You exist," Widowmaker said bluntly. "I think that much was obvious."

"Oh, what's the matter?" Sombra teased. "Is somebody mad that they can't kill me? You know, I've been thinking a lot about something recently. It must really suck to only feel pleasure whenever you kill somebody. I can only imagine how shitty your life must be. I bet it's eating you up inside, knowing that all you want to do is gouge my eyes out with your bare hands, but you're not allowed to."

Widowmaker scoffed. "Don't get overconfident. You're only around until you outlive your usefulness."

"Well, good thing I'm the only one who knows how to operate this bomb then," Sombra said with a smirk. "And who knows? Maybe after everything's done, I'll hack your mind and make you kill yourself instead. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Sombra reached out her hand, and without any hesitation, patted Widowmaker on the head. The assassin stood in silence, her arms crossed over her chest. There was no point in fighting back, no matter how much she wanted to punch Sombra in the face. The hacker walked off merrily, but Widowmaker remained in place, staring at the newly-constructed device that they had spent so much effort constructing. After months of planning, they were almost ready to take action. She should have been satisfied. She should have felt incredibly proud.

Instead, all she felt was guilt, and she did not know why.