Chapter 6

Let Them Eat Cake

Amélie had spend the entire day staring into the nothingness, in the darkness of her room. Almost everything she had seen she'd wished to unsee, not a single thing she wanted to keep. Widowmaker's time as a ballerina was boring and non interesting, but the way she pushed herself to always be better was something that would stuck with the sniper all her life. Her married life wasn't bad, per say, but it was nerve wrecking, and Amélie wondered how Widowmaker could stand it more than a few weeks. Living her life for months on end with barely any news from Gérard, when he was in the middle of a war zone, was unthinkable to Amélie. Widowmaker had pulled it off for almost ten years before Talon captured her.

Talon was a whole trauma unto itself. It was what haunted Amélie every time she closed her eyes, or so much as blinked. It was what she heard in her ears, like a looping sound. The sound of people rewiring Widowmaker's brain, making her who she was meant to be. Beeps and flashing lights and words and needles. It was a hospital bed with leather straps to contain her, to the point they would prevent her from breathing. It was a prison cell with barely enough space to move, where she could only wait, and tremble with every explosion, and every gunshot she heard.

Overwatch freeing her was a few seconds of respite in a life of violence. Gérard's death was easy, compared to what was to come. Now that she was dead, or so she insisted, Widowmaker's memory was back. Amélie wished it hadn't, that it had stayed locked in her mind for the rest of eternity. Slitting Gérard's throat with a kitchen knife had been easy, because the poor soul had fallen asleep with a smile on his face, happy to have his wife back. Happy that she was safe and sound. His eyes had opened when he had felt his hot blood drowning his lungs. There was only confusion in them. Amélie sobbed at their sight every time that memory came back to her. He never understood what was happening to him, why he was suffocating in a pool of his own blood, while his beloved wife was staring at him, emotionless, a bloody knife in her hand.

But what Amélie dreaded the most, in that loop of nightmares, was Widowmaker's transformation. More conditioning, more beeps and flashings lights. More physical transformation. Unloading her rifle on living targets for days on end, never flinching at the sound of the bullet, or the pleads of her victims. More needles, always more, filling her up with poison that could have killed her. They both wish it had.

Then came the missions, and the love for a good kill. Amélie hated it more than anything, and Widowmaker mocked her for it. So many targets meeting a grizzling end. And every failure was rewarded by more conditioning. Of course there was always something they couldn't take away from her, but that she kept deep deep within her, and only let out when she was alone, and away from Talon's claws.

Amélie had spent the day feeling sick and on the verge of tears, trapped in a loop where one memory brought out another, which brought out another, and thus she saw Widowmaker's life again and again. She had been so focused on it she had forgotten to eat all day, and had only move to sit against the corner of her room, making herself small, and insignificant, and forgotten, so that Talon wouldn't find her, too.

"Hey, Amé!"

She flinched, finally taking herself away from Widowmaker. Sombra was crouching beside her, with an uncertain expression on her face.

"You look like you just got possessed."

"Fuck you!"

Sombra smirked.

"And you're back! Good!"

She stood up and took the plastic box that was resting on Amélie's bed. She placed it in front of the taller girl and said:

"Here, I brought you a snack, since I guessed you've probably been beating yourself up all day."

Amélie looked at the box where only a handful of cupcakes were gone. She took one and proceeded to eat it while quickly taking the wrapper off. Sombra, in the meantime, opened her curtains and her window to let some light and some fresh air inside. She then sat at her desk table, and turned it until she was facing her. Amélie indulged in her snack for a good ten minutes, gulping down cupcake after cupcake. She had forgotten how hungry she'd been all day, but the sugary pastries had refreshed her mind.

"So, I'm guessing araña hasn't been so nice to you, has she?"

Amélie looked up.

Ah, nice? Oh Sombra, you should know me better than that. I have been nothing but truthful.

"She's... awful, really."

How dare you say that!

Amélie visibly cringed, almost as if she was afraid Widowmaker would send another awful memory her way.

"Bet her life was awful." Sombra continued. "That's why she was so cold."

This time Widowmaker didn't make a comment, and Amélie took that much needed silence to eat more. Sombra stayed quiet for a moment, leaning in her seat, her elbows resting on her knees. Amélie continued to eat until she was tired of the taste of sugar. She closed the plastic box, and placed it on her bed once again. Finally she stood up, and almost fell. Staying in the same position all day had not been good for her legs. She sat against her bed, closer to Sombra, with the Latina still towering over her. Thanks to her she already felt a little better.

"Amé, would you mind if we talked to her. From one internationally wanted criminal to another."

Amélie was at first confused, not sure how Widowmaker and Sombra could talk, until Widowmaker declared:

Sure, why not. It's not like I have better things to do!

"She's okay with it. So am I."

Sombra nodded, and waited silently for a few seconds before she declared:

"Araña, Sombra is giving you a warning. Don't traumatize Amé more than you already have."

Widowmaker scoffed.

Or what? Like I give a damn about your warnings. You can't reach me anymore!

Amélie sighed. Sombra should know better than threaten Widowmaker.

"She said she doesn't care about Sombra's warning."

And since when do you care about others, miss I prefer to work alone.

Amélie didn't have time to pass over the comment, as Sombra declared:

"Okay, listen. We both know you don't want her to end up like you. You wanted to be human, didn't you. Than she's your chance to be human again. I mean, yeah, she's barely more emotional than you, but it's an improvement."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Amélie scoffed.

"Your welcome."

Widowmaker was silent for another minute, as if she was thinking what to answer.

Than what would you have me do. Not like I can just leave her alone. I have tried, believe me.

"She asks what she should do."

Sombra smirked.

"First, keep your memories to yourself. We know you're happy to have them again, but don't go traumatizing Amé. Second, show a bit more emotions, maybe?"

Widowmaker made a sneering sound.

"Finally, say what you have to say."

Both Amélie and Widowmaker frowned.

And what is that suppose to mean?

Sombra seemed to sense the sniper's confusion, as she continued:

"Talk to the others. Apologizes if you want to, say what you have to say to them. You'll feel better afterwards, you'll see."

And why should I apologize? Is that how you became such a great mediator, Sombra? You talked to people! No, there must be a trick. There's always a trick with her.

"She thinks there's a trick."

"Oh, araña, do you really think so little of me? Fine. But you better get ready, cause I'm working on something big, and if you're not ready to talk, you're not gonna like it, chica."

Oh please! The last time you prepared something big, we all died. I don't think you can do better than that!

"Anyway, Amé, if you want to talk, I'm here. It'll be my pleasure to listen. Plus Sombra is curious about some of the things Widowbitch did, so you know, you would entertain her as well, and I like to keep my Sombra entertain."

Amélie managed a small smile, and Sombra extended a hand for her to take.

Oh please, like I would ever say anything to you!

Amélie got up, and Sombra stood as well. She picked up her bag she'd left on the bed, and declared:

"You can keep the cupcakes, I've had enough for a day."

"Thank you. And for taking me out of my trance, as well."

"No problemo. Hey, you should talk to her, maybe you can convince her."

Amélie shrugged.

"I don't think so. Widowmaker does what Widowmaker wants. What is this big thing, anyway?"

"Not telling you just yet, don't want to disappoint. I should get back to it, actually."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You better. We have a presentation to start, and Satya is going to be pissed if we don't."

"Oh, right."

Just as they were walking down the stairs so she could accompany her to the door, Amélie suddenly realized something.

"How did you get into my house in the first place?"

"I don't reveal my secrets, chica."

"You're not a magician."

"If you say so..."