Lost in Time: Chapter 2
Past
Lena opened her eyes, slowly, shivering even though she could not feel cold. Why? Of all the places, why did she have to go back there? To that time? To that position? Did Time itself hate her that badly, that she should relive that which stole her humanity? Why?
She shook her head, sitting up while thinking to herself. "I am Tracer. I am not Lena. I am Tracer, the Overwatch agent that always smiles. I have to be that. Come on, Lena. You can do it. Just smile." After thinking like that for several seconds, she looked around, forcing a weak grin onto her face.
It was daytime, though the skies were overcast, with a light drizzle Lena couldn't feel tickling the ground. She held out her hand. It was like a transparent hologram flickering unreliably as the Overwatch agent watched the rain pass through it. She smiled more, curling her hand into a fist. He skin was cold to the touch, as well as being the only thing she could maintain contact with, other than the ground.
Lena could physically touch the ground thanks to its density, keeping her from phasing through it, but she still couldn't feel it. Since the roof was not very thick, it was as though she was walking on gelatin. Lena's legs lurched through the ceiling unsteadily as she attempted to get up and look around. She was in the exact location from before. How long had she been gone? A few hours? Days? Weeks?
Given the feverish work of the police force below her, she guessed it couldn't be more than a day or two. Should she bother trying to sneak past them, or should she save what precious little time she had? Deciding her time was more valuable, she jumped straight off the building. She landed silently and without pain.
Her mind was made up. She needed to get to Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Her best bet would be to take a boat, maybe stow away on one, though she ran the risk of fading, waking up in the middle of the ocean with the vessel long gone, and having to swim the rest of the way as a result. She didn't tire, but it would slow her progress if that were to happen.
Thankfully, Tracer knew the general direction to the coast, where she would have to go from there. Who knew? Maybe someone would document the "ghost" and Winston would see.
She began to walk, right past the masses of officers. They stared at the former Overwatch agent, mouths agape.
Lena said nothing, merely smiling and waving as she passed by them. Several of the men only stared at her incredulously. Only one of them tried to confront her. He was dressed nicer than the rest and spoke with an authority that suggested he was the boss. "Are you Tracer?" he asked in awe. "The Overwatch agent that can wield time?" Lena nodded quietly, still smiling. "And I take it you have a reason for why you are quite literally flickering like a flashlight low on batteries?"
Again, Lena nodded. She smiled, waved to him, and continued walking. He seemed to signal the rest of the officers and followed after her. "I'm supposed to arrest you, you know. I can't help but notice you don't have the device with which all the propaganda depicts you. You were a pilot before that, yes?"
Lena nodded once more.
The officer looked quizzical and continued asking her questions as she nonchalantly continued her walking as though nothing were wrong.
"I also can't help but notice your footsteps aren't making any sounds."
Lena kept her smile, but it weakened, and it became a smile of a dull sadness. The officer noticed this.
"A drawback, I'm guessing? The ability to wield time always seemed to be far too good to be true."
She would keep smiling. She would keep smiling.
"Look, I don't know why you're a literal ghost, but I'm not stupid. Is it some disability? Maybe an injury? It seems like it."
Lena felt freezing tears form in her eyes. She held her weak smile.
"And yet, you are still smiling. It's forced as heck, sure. Honestly, that rubbish about Overwatch being criminals is a load of crock. You know this, I'm sure. No matter what, though, there are a few people, even if it's only a few, that know this. You're walking with a purpose, meaning you must have somewhere to be. Somewhere to regain the sound of footsteps?"
Lena nodded slowly, turning to look at the man for the first time. He looked surprised.
"Even now, when I'm interrogating you like this, and tears are streaming down your face, and your body is disappearing, you're smiling. I can't tell you how refreshing that is in this day and age. I won't arrest you. Heck, I doubt I could if I wanted to. Just do me a favor, 'kay?"
Lena nodded again. He spoke up.
"Don't give up on this world. We may be broken, and ninety-five percent of the population is against you, but the people don't know what they're doing. The world is on the cusp of self-destruction. Whether they like it or not, they need someone who knows how to reach peace rather than fight to a bitter end. And even if almost everybody is against it, there will always be us five-percent supporting you."
Lena only stared, the tears now freely falling down her face. Her smile widened and became a genuine one. She nodded one final time. The officer smiled back.
"Heh. You're looking better. I'll tell the boys I failed to catch you. Good luck with fixing this mess of a world. "
Tracer gestured to him, waiting for him to supply his name.
"Nah, you don't need my name. I'm just an officer doing his job. Good luck out there, kid. I don't know what's going on, but I'll do whatever I can." The officer turned and left, without looking back.
Lena stood in awe as the rain phased through her and grew heavier. The man reminded her of Jack Morrison, one of the leaders of Overwatch, killed in an explosion. The mentality of the "common soldier" was so similar.
It was men like him that kept Lena from giving up in the many battles she's been in, and in the many lives she's had to claim. She did it because people like this gave her a reason to save everybody. She turned and continued down the cobblestone sidewalks walking with a calm smile on her face. She had a few hours, maybe a day or two. She needed to cover as much distance as she could.
…
"Winston, two people have entered the parameters," Athena announced, drawing Winston out of his mindless work.
"Who are they?" he asked, despite having an idea.
Athena pulled up a security camera, revealing two people cautiously walking side-by-side down the path to the building Winston occupied. One of them was wearing a white angelic suit, with golden wings of light blossoming from her back, while the other was dressed in a blue armor suit, with a helmet that made her resemble that of a blue bird with a yellow beak. They had weapons strapped to their backs, one of them was a bulky rocket launcher, and the other a skinny, lightweight staff.
"One found to be Dr. Angela Ziegler. The other subject is unidentified," Athena explained unhelpfully.
"Let them in," Winston ordered, listening to the robotic sounds of the front doors opening. Footsteps echoed in the lab area, and the doors shut.
"Winston? Is that you?" Angela, also known as Mercy, greeted cheerily in her Swiss accent, walking up the stairs with her companion following behind in awe. Winston looked up from his computer and smiled.
"Angela! It's been too long!" Winston greeted happily, climbing down and giving her a hearty pat on the back, which almost knocked her over. She laughed heartily, before gathering herself.
"Let me introduce you, in case you do not remember her," she pointed to the woman standing behind her, who was doing their best to remain stoic despite obvious excitement. "This is Fareeha Amari, also known as Pharah; she is the child of the deceased sniper from Blackwatch, Ana."
"A pleasure to meet you," Winston politely greeted, glancing around nervously. "Excuse the mess. I've been preoccupied as of late."
"Please, it is no trouble." Pharah gave a repressed smile. "Angela found me at my station near the Temple of Anubis, telling me Overwatch was getting back together. I couldn't pass down something like that."
Winston laughed. "Unfortunately, I only issued the recall a short while ago, so not many agents have gotten back to me yet. We'll be shorthanded and working outside the law. Are you sure you want to do that?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way. Anything to save this world."
"I agree completely. First, we should prioritize finding any agents we can. This is where I'll need help."
Pharah's voice raised and lightened, giddy with eagerness she was hiding surprisingly well. "Very well. I take it you have someone in mind?"
"Yes, though they'll be hard to find, we need to prioritize her; otherwise she'll meet a fate worse than death."
Mercy cut in. "Worse than death, you say?"
Winston nodded. "Athena, show all known information on Lena Oxton."
Seconds later, articles spread across the computer screens. Several included pictures and information on Tracer, while some were the recent articles about Mondatta.
"Tracer." Pharah's eyes shone with admiration. "So young, yet so talented."
"Are you two aware of Mondatta's recent assassination?" Winston asked. They both nodded solemnly.
"Well, she was seen there, only briefly. She turned on her tracker, which is now in a lockup for dangerous criminals."
"So you wish for us to rescue her?" Mercy guessed, running her hand down her holster with her pistol.
"Except there's a wrinkle. Tracer's chronal accelerator is what has the tracker. I can't tell whether or not she has it on."
"Does she not have other means of communication?" Pharah asked worriedly.
"None she can use. Without her device, she's left to fade in and out of existence itself. She doesn't age, and she can't touch anything. She can barely even communicate."
Mercy's eyes melted into that of pity. "In other words, we have to retrieve her chronal accelerator, but we run the risk of her being nowhere near it." Winston nodded.
"I've set Athena to monitor all public websites that have mentioned Tracer, but I'd assume she'd make her way back to here, though I don't know how, given her current state along with being across the ocean. The best we can do is retrieve her harness before something bad happens to it. Our supplies are cut off, so it'd be beyond difficult to replace it."
Pharah spoke this time. "We break into the prison, retrieve either he or the device, then leave. Seems easy enough. We'll have to be careful, though."
Winston started typing on the computer, mindlessly checking for any messages or information Athena might have missed. "Exactly. I'll stay here and monitor the base along with guiding you. Would you two be willing to go there yourselves?"
"Anything for poor little Lena," Mercy agreed.
"This is better than I hoped," Pharah smiled, showing off her rocket blaster. "This thing isn't very subtle. Do you have any better weapons I may use?"
Winston nodded. "Follow me." He made his way down the stairs, reaching for his refurbished gun he received when Talon raided his base. "This is my Tesla Cannon. It's bright but quiet, and similar in bulk to your rocket launcher." Pharah nodded, and took the weapon graciously, holding it as though it were a piece of treasure.
Winston looked outside. The sun was setting. "Come on, now. I cleaned the dormitory rooms recently. Get some sleep, and we'll get a ship to London tomorrow. We should be there by sunset by that schedule. They both nodded. "I don't have much in the way of a meal, mostly just produce and vegetables from a makeshift garden."
Mercy smiled. "You never struck me as the gardening type, Winston."
"A gorilla needs a way to feed himself."
Mercy chuckled. "True."
…
The sun was setting. Lena had made good time. She should reach the coast soon. Lena still didn't know what she would do then, but it was a good start. She walked out in the open, but for a person flickering and transparent, she attracted surprisingly little attention. That was all right. The rain was finally letting up when darkness crept into her vision. Her eyes widened.
She ran past the many buildings, some of which had been ravaged by the Omnic Crisis. This city was one of the first places that war broke out. Some people remained, but not many. She ran through the rubble of a collapsed apartment building, where she wouldn't attract much attention.
She wished and willed with all her might that she'd stay in the present. Tears fell her face as her vision faded, and for the first time in hours, she dropped the smile. Sobs racked her chest as she blinked back into the void of time itself.
…
Nothingness. Lena was back in the empty void of nothing as misery consumed her. Every second was an eternity. It stretched out indefinitely. She was back in the dull, miserable darkness. She knew she would be coming back here, so why was it a big deal?
Maybe it was the sheer loneliness: the feeling that she would never have a friend to support her again. She remembered the first time she was here, after the crash. She thought she was dead: that she would be alone forever. She had the odd dreams, which she didn't know what to make of, but she felt so alone, abandoned, and forgotten in her world where nothing existed except for her. It was wretched.
After an eternity, she felt herself being pulled into another dream. She would've sighed. What did her condition have in store for her this time?
She was conscious this time, fully aware she was not herself, and this was not the present. It was evident since she was Winston this time. She heard all his thoughts, felt what he did, and moved as he did.
Three months… Lena heard Winston think. It's been three months, and I still don't know what happened. Why? What caused the jet to crash? What did I do wrong? Could I have saved Lena? It's my fault! I should've run the test dummy more often!
Lena wished with all her might that she could call out to him and offer some words of reassurance as his sorrow and self-hatred consumed her whole. They were on the runway where Lena had taken off, right in front of the scorched forest, except it was all burnt to a crisp for miles. No signs of the ship could be seen as Winston made his way through the woods that had once been so beautiful.
The forest, Lena, the jet, I could've saved them all! Stupid! Some scientist I am.
No! Winston! No! That's not it! Tracer tried so hard to will this message to him, but couldn't. She was being pulled along for the ride, like a puppet, not in control of her body. Winston walked to the heart of the crash, where the land was the most devastated. Any remnants of the ship were scorched, twisted, and unusable as even scraps.
Lena saw something out of the corner of Winston's eye. No! Why did she have to be here, at this moment, of all moments? She didn't need to relive this either! But it was indisputable. Winston's head whipped around. Splayed out on the ground, twenty feet away, was Tracer, stirring as though waking up from a nap. Her clothes were torn and scorched, but there she was.
She stood up and looked around as Winston's thoughts bombarded Lena. Lena! But she died! No! How? Lena can't be… What? How is this possible? The ship burnt up, and she wasn't here when the fire was out! How is she here? This can't be! She's flickering? Transparent? I'm seeing things! How can this be? His thoughts continued spiraling in the same circle as Tracer stood up slowly, visibly shaking. She looked around, incredulous at the scorched land. She turned around, and her eyes met Winston. Her face lit up with a raw joy, her smile reaching from ear to ear. Her eyes were squinted as though she were readjusting to the sunlight.
She mouthed something, her jaw agape.
"L-Lena!" Winston shouted in joy, running to embrace her. Tracer did the same. Lena wished she could close her eyes. The moment that still haunted her memory as a lightning bolt striking her from the blue came, and she watched in horror as Winston's excitement died instantly.
Tracer was not in front of Winston. He was confused for an instant, before turning around. Tracer stood there, frozen in place, facing away. She whipped her head around, her eyes wide and afraid, with trails of tears streaming down her face. She's… flickering. Is she not here? Is this real? She went through me! Lena? What's going on? What happened to you? How? She's scared! She's so scared! What can I do? How can I help? She's terrified! What did this to her? Did I? Is this my fault? Did I do this to Lena?
Lena saw just how pathetic she looked at that moment. Tracer's pupils were small, scared, and shattered as though she had already died. Her body was translucent, and Tracer noticed this. Her mouth flew open, as though she was shouting, but no sound came. She quickly covered her mouth with her see-through hands.
In a panic, she dived towards Winston again. Once more, she phased right through him, appearing on the other side. There was a piece of metal at her foot. Tracer bent down to pick it up. It went right through her hand, not moving an inch.
"L-Lena? What happened to you?" Winston's voice broke for an instant.
Tracer shivered. She collapsed, desperately trying to grab the piece of scrap while Winston watched helplessly. Tracer curled into a ball, grasping her legs and tucking her head down. Silent sobs shook her whole body as grief consumed Winston. My fault. My fault. My fault. I need to help. The chant echoed through Winston's head as Lena felt tears run down his cheeks.
"Lena…" Winston began, not knowing what to say. She curled tighter into a ball. "Come on, let's get you to headquarters." Tracer continued crying, as Lena was helpless to do anything but watch her worst memory unfold before her.
It was a full five minutes before Tracer moved. Slowly, she uncurled her body, sitting up and looking up to Winston, tears soaking her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and terrified. She said something, though no sound came out, it was clear what she meant.
"Help me."
I did this. I did this. I did this. I'll fix it! I can fix this! "Lena, come on. We'll see what we can do back at the nearest HQ. I'll fix this!" Winston reassured as hot tears stung his eyes. He reached down to try and help her up, but hesitated. I can't help her. Would reaching for her just make her more upset? She can't touch me. What should I do?
Tracer stood up slowly, her legs shaking. She smiled in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood. The two began the walk back in a somber silence to the runway, where Winston would call for a ride for his friend.
I did this. I'm so sorry, Lena. I need to make this better. I'll study the translocation. I'll figure out what did this! I'll fix whatever is wrong, no matter what it takes! I need to help, I need to help, I need to help. I'm sorry that I did this to you. If only I had run the tests more. My fault. My fault. My fault.
Lena fell back into darkness with Winston's woeful thoughts looping in her mind.