Overwatch: Lost in Time

by Raven the Dragon

Before she was the face of Overwatch, Tracer was Lena Oxton, the pilot with Chronal Disassociation. With her accelerator gone, Lena must face what she fears the most: Herself. Demons come back to haunt her that McCree and Genji thought were long gone, and struggles hidden under a smile finally come to light. But it's too late. Lena Oxton might be gone forever.

15. Chapter 15- Run

Chapter 15: Run

"So let me get this straight… Tracer ran to Talon but was mostly kidnapped because her chest thingy was rigged, and now the outlaw McCree is over there explaining what happened to Mercy, and that's why the walls of the building are shaking?" D,va took a sip of the soda from the mini fridge in her room. Lúcio opened up one of the boxes D,va had brought containing a variety of gaming equipment. He put the rather large computer on top of the oak desk along with the monitor and speakers. Her neon pink gaming chair required rebuilding, which Hana had already begun.

"Pretty much. Don't tell anyone about McCree, though. His presence is somewhat illegal. Hey, where do you want these?" Lúcio pulled a few stuffed animals out of the box, to which Hana barely turned her head.

"Just toss them on the bed. Oh, and if you could hook up the computer, that'd be sweet. This chair needs to get its life together," she ended with mild frustration as one of the screws on the seat popped out of place. "And don't worry, if I reported every little illegal thing I spotted, MEKA would have been shut down ages ago."

"Woah, really?" Lúcio rummaged through some wires, trying to find where they plugged in on the computer. "What do they do that's so bad?"

"Well, they recruit children into war. They managed to get the government to look the other way, but having fourteen-year-olds piloting mech suits isn't exactly legal. This isn't Neon Genesis Evangelion."

"Oh, man! Evangelion? That show's almost a century old, isn't it? And yeah, good point… I guess I never really thought about it too much. Must've sucked, huh?"

Hana shrugged. "It's not too different from anyone else going to war. It doesn't get better as you get older."

Lúcio nodded. "That's true, I guess. Overwatch had some decently young agents too, from what I hear. I think Tracer was your age when she started fighting."

Hana clicked her tongue as the chair finally began to resemble what it was meant to be. "It's horrible that she's missing, or gone, or whatever, then. Are we going to go on a rescue mission?"

Lúcio grimaced, finally getting all the chord hooked up on the computer. "We don't know where she went is the problem. As soon as we can find some decent coordinates, I'm sure we'll manage to find her! Overwatch seems to have an exceptional talent for rescue missions!"

Hana chuckled. "I wonder if they'll let me come. My mech isn't super stealthy, and I'm not a great shot outside of it, though… It's so much easier to aim with a joystick."

"Oh! Who are these people? Lúcio called, holding up a framed picture with Hana and three smiling MEKA pilots, as indicated by their uniforms.

"That's my squad! Asi9, C6piders, and Q-ball! We've been in a team for a little while now!"

"Wow, it sucks they couldn't come to Overwatch," Lúcio admitted, setting the picture frame on Hana's nightstand. She shrugged it off.

"Yeah, but Overwatch agreed to help MEKA next time the Omnic in the Sea poked his nose into our business. So as long as they don't get themselves killed, it'll be all right," she rolled the seat under the desk as she finished it, moving on to the clothing as she hung up her outfits. After she had folded up one or two pairs of jeans, she stretched and turned to Lúcio. "Hey, thanks for the help with unpacking, by the way. Want to go get something from the kitchen? Where is the kitchen?"

"No problem! And sure, I'll show you where it is."

The two of them carefully hung back as they reached the kitchen where Dr Ziegler's voice echoed through the room as McCree took her yelling with his hat tipped down.

"Why on earth would you do that?! You should have waited until more of us were here to help! Why would you think the two of you alone could stop two people that you struggle to fight when they're alone?!"

"Look, Doc. I've already had this discussion with Fareeha. You don't have to teach me the error of my ways or nothin'. I screwed up majorly. Just tell me how I can help fix this," he retorted, his voice level. Winston was hunched on the ground with his head in his hands, Captain Amari and Commander Morrison 76 both hung back with relatively neutral expressions. Reinhardt looked beyond furious as he paced back and forth, though not at anyone in particular. Torbjörn and Genji were noticeably absent.

"I don't know! We have no clues as to where in the world Lena could have been taken!"

McCree shook his head. "That's not true. I found this in Sombra's cell." He slid something across the table to the doctor, who quickly flipped it around in her hands. Her expression changed from anger to confusion to surprise.

"This… how could she have made something like this? Winston!" she called, causing the gorilla to snap his head up, though his cheeks were wet with tears. She passed him the device, causing him to gasp. Winston gawked as he held up the odd contraption while McCree watched awkwardly.

"So are ya gonna tell us what that there device is or are ya gonna keep us in the dark?" McCree snapped, kicking his feet up on the table.

"It's… a portable replication of the teleportation matrix. The one used to model the Slipstream and chronal accelerator. There's no way, even with Talon having had the chronal accelerator for a few days, that they managed to turn it into something like this. Sombra must have stolen the technology in advanced."

"I remember Lena bein' super mad about somethin' or another when she left Sombra's room. Part of it was probably thanks to the harness, but I wonder if that had anythin' to do with it?"

Winston slouched, "Probably. We know it's a sore spot. However, I may be able to get us some clues as to where Sombra took Lena if I use some of the old tech in the lab."

"That reminds me," McCree added. "Genji took one of the jets. Said he knew where to get a lead and had an acquaintance who had agreed to help him out."

Mercy sighed, rubbing her temples. "I can't believe this is happening… Okay, I need to go take care of Mei. Jesse, I think Torbjörn is working on your prosthetic now. He's been kept busy with his latest project, but it should be done in a while," she mused, sounding tired.

D,va hummed, calling the attention of the group. "Sorry to interrupt, but I remember hearing Tracer needs her harness to be present, or something like that, right? But if Talon had that technology earlier, what are the odds they know how to use it against her while she's being held captive…?" she mumbled, averting her eyes out of nervousness and respect.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances that answered her question wordlessly.

Mercy mumbled something under her breath and speed walked away, desperate to get out of the conversation. Jesse bit down on his cigar, and Winston just stared intently at Sombra's device.

"Look, let's not obsess over this," Ana piped up. "We won't be able to help anyone if we tear ourselves to pieces. I'll be leaving with Reinhardt soon to pick up some old 'friends' that should be able to assist us once we locate the hideout. They're very good at playing the distraction card. We'll go get them, Genji is searching for information, and Winston has a way to try and track Sombra. We'll find her in no time." She heaved her sniper rifle over her back pulling up her hood. "Fareeha, do you wish to come?"

"Sure, mother," the security guard replied stiffly. "I will go prepare my Raptora suit," she made a soldier's march back to her quarters.

"Lúcio, you said you had someone coming, right? When will they be here?" Commander Morrison demanded in his gruff voice.

The DJ chuckled nervously. "Oh, they'll be here tomorrow. Only one of them is a fighter, though. The other one is a brilliant engineer."

"Any details?" he pressed, fingering the top of his pulse rifle.

"Well, one is an Omnic robot created from the remnants of the OR15 units. The other is an eleven-year-old girl. She's the engineer, not the fighter, for the record!" he added hastily.

"What?! Why would you bring a child to a place like this?" he snapped, nearly dropping his gun.

"Look, I talked it out with her parents. We got all the details worked out. She built the OR15 unit back up completely on her own. Her level of mechanical genius would be a perfect fit here," he reasoned, to which Jack grunted.

"If I were still the boss, I'd have her turned around and marched back home." He sighed. "Regardless, I can't stop you. Just know that there will be a problem if anything happens to her."

Lúcio nodded. "Of course, of course. Don't you worry about that. Hana and I were going to get some food, then maybe prepare the room for them. Or find something productive to do. I dunno," he mused absently as Soldier rolled his head around in what must substitute for an eye roll.

"Now come on, Hana. I think we agreed on food?"

"Of course!" She chirped, back to her perky self. "Hey, Dad 76, wanna join us?" she asked, playfully elbowing the super soldier.

"I'm not a father," he groaned, about-facing and slipping out of the room. Hana and Lúcio laughed and proceeded to raid the kitchen.

…

"I don't get it," Torbjörn grunted to the robot in front of him. "Everyone is making such a big fuss over that girl. I mean, it's not that I don't care about her or anything, but devoting half of our current forces to finding her just seems… inefficient."

The Omnic sitting on the metal platform in front his beeped and whirred in response as a little yellow canary pecked at some seeds near the open cage being used as a birdhouse. His humanoid arm had been removed as Torbjörn painstakingly wiped all the rust, leaves, and other forest debris off of it while the e54 bastion unit watched in fascination. His gun arm had already been carefully repaired and reattached, but the robotic arm with the self-repair unit needed some extra attention.

Most of the debris had been wiped off of the bulk of the robot relatively quickly. It was now just little remains of dirt and repairs that remained.

"Seriously. The girl went to Talon on her own. Why should we bother with a traitor? Harness or not, she did run to them. She isn't blameless in all this like everyone makes her out to be."

The bastion quirked his head and made several sad chirps as his bird seemed to grow bored of the seeds and settled on top of the robot's head with a content twitter.

"She might not be blameless, but that doesn't mean we ain't gonna save her," a voice interrupted in a thick country drawl.

"Well, look who finally arrived. Your arm must be low on your priority list if it took ya that long to come here."

"And you must be goin' crazy from old age. What happened to bein' the man that hated all Omnics?" McCree retorted, tipping his hat at the bastion unit, who quirked his head and used his gun to wave while beeping merrily.

"I don't have to justify myself to you," Torbjörn snapped, finally picking Bastion's repaired arm up and inspecting it absently. "Your arm is on the table over there," he grunted, waving his arm in the direction of another workbench littered with screws and scraps. McCree's prosthetic lay on it, awaiting reattachment. "You know how to put it on."

McCree rolled his eyes and picked up the prosthetic, clamping it on and fiddling with some of the wires and screws as feeling finally returned to that part of his body. "Don't pretend like ya don't miss Lena. You've been moodier than usual."

"Hard not to be when everyone's making a fuss." Torbjörn pulled out a few screws and began rewiring the arm to Bastion, who was ducking down to help the short man reach. "Not like moaning and groaning solve anything."

"Rainbows and sunshine today, ain't ya?" McCree quipped, sighing in relief as he clenched his robotic hand into a fist, testing the fingers as they bent and moved with the quiet squeaking of metal.

"Just as much so as everyone else. Now, do ya need something? Because I'm kind of busy right now."

"Yeah. I wanna know if you plan on helping at all with the search for Lena," McCree admitted, brushing his poncho back over the arm.

"Come to me with a specific request. Then we'll talk," Torbjörn snapped again, finally finishing the bastion's arm, which whirred and chirped happy, waving at the Dwarfish man. Torbjörn pulled out a rag and began wiping the Omnic's leg joints in preparation to do any needed maintenance there, already tuning Jesse out.

"Fairly sure Winston could use a hand, but don't mind me," McCree sarcastically responded, throwing a wave up behind him as he left the room. "You'd better eat before the doctor hunts you down, we both know she gets downright murderous when we don't eat, and that's past trauma neither of us wants to relive," he called back with some of his good nature back.

"That's something we can both agree on," Torbjörn affirmed with a weak chuckle. "Alright, let me finish up with Bastion, then we'll see about helping with the Slipstream tech. The bastion takes priority, though."

Bastion whirred and chirped gratefully as his canary settled down on the nest the Omnic had just set on its shoulder. Strange bird, that one.

…

Tracer groaned as a gentle kick to the metal around her waist jolted her back into reality from the blissful void of sleep. She was suddenly aware of her entire body covered in a dull, incessant ache. She blinked, her eyes unfocused as she looked up at the blurry visage above her. Purple and grey faded into view, eventually focusing into Sombra, who was leaning on one leg as she nonchalantly rubbed her thumb to her nails.

"What do you want?" Lena croaked, her voice hoarse and dry. "To taunt me? That sounds about right."

"Oh, Amiga, do you think me heartless?" Sombra overdramatized, putting her hand on her heart and another one to her head as though she would faint. "I don't need to rub salt in the wound. I'm just here to ask you something. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Not like I've got any better way to spend my time," Lena retorted, forcing herself into the sitting up position, wincing as her joints protested to the movement.

"Why are you fighting like this? I mean, you've got every part of your body chained and bound, ready to be electrocuted and much, much more. And you know there's nothing you can do to stop him and anything he chooses to do to you. Why fight a losing battle?" she pressed, offering a hand to help up Lena. She reluctantly accepted, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet as the world tipped around her.

"Because giving up is a horrible way to go. If I'm going down, I'm going down having kicked and screamed to fight for what I believe in."

"Such sentimentality!" Sombra cheered mockingly. "But I think you're smarter than that. You know that 'fighting for what you believe in' will bring nothing but pain. You're not going to get a medal for chivalry. You'll get scars, though. That I can promise. Seems like it'd save everyone a lot of time and energy if you just gave up."

"You know that's not true," Lena spat, leaning against the wall. "If I just bow down and let him tame me, he's going to do so. He's going to make sure I become his obedient little pet. Either way, I'm going to wind up with a few scars, so I may as well go down the Tracer way," she explained resolutely, her gaze unwavering.

"So you know that you're fighting a battle you can't win, but you still go at it with no sense of self-preservation?"

"Last I checked, soldiers, in general, have little sense of self-preservation, or they wouldn't be soldiers. Besides, why do you care what dumb decisions I choose to make? Do you care about me or something?"

"Of course not!" Sombra waved off hastily, almost too quickly. "I just don't get it. You want to know what Reaper has planned for you? Let me tell you, that edgelord has been huddling in the darkness, joyfully making a list of things for the past couple of weeks."

Lena groaned, rubbing the heavy metal cuff on her arm as though she could reach the inflamed skin trapped under it. "I get the feeling you'll tell me no matter what."

Sombra chuckled. "This is true. So, I assume you've seen the stabilisers in the wall, right? Well, he can control those remotely."

Tracer shivered, biting her lip. "Wonderful," she sneered. "Thanks for building that. I appreciate it."

"Oh, I made the blueprints, but Gabe spent forever personalising it once he got the chronal energy hooked up to the electric interferers that those doohickies were originally. Anyway, if you keep being a little rebel, he plans on taking you to what he has dubbed, in his infinite creativity, the 'Pit.' In other words, you know dogfighting? Well, you're the dog."

"And just how does he plan on getting me to fight?" Tracer snorted in disgust, recoiling slightly.

"He has his ways. You aren't his first time at the rodeo, so you'd better buckle up, kiddo."

"Duly noted," Lena dryly commented, rolling her eyes, trying to stop her trembling.

"Aw, are you shaking? What, are you scared?"

"Well, you've put a lot of time towards making that happen. Guess you're reaping your reward," Lena admitted snidely, trying to move the metal cuffs on her arms at all, to no avail as they refused to budge. "Now, do you have any other message of happiness to deliver? Maybe that these clasps can suffocate me? Or that there are venom injectors that will put a deadly poison into me?"

"Oh! Such imagination! Shame I didn't think of that. But sadly, no. They don't do anything like that. You're certainly pessimistic, but alas, I can see when I'm not wanted. Have fun waiting for Gabe!" Before Lena could protest, she snapped her finger and disappeared into a puff of purple pixels.

Lena snorted in anger, stumbling over to the platform that served as a bed. She lied back on it, groaning as she flipped onto her stomach, trying to find a position resembling comfort. Usually, she slept relatively curled up, but the cuff on her torso eliminated that as a possibility. She tossed and turned, eventually settling down with one hand behind her head and the other being held in front of her as she lied on her side. The spiky tufts of hair flopped down in front of her face, somewhat oily yet somehow lacking the same shine from before.

She held her jacket together, savouring what little warmth it provided in the chilling room. She should be able to handle this. She's dealt with worse in her dreams. For some reason, though, the idea that she had no real reality to return to, that this was happening to her, turned it into a far more sobering experience than the one of indifference she had expected.

She crossed her legs to conserve some body heat and provide comfort, only shivering further at the sound of the metal cuffs grating against each other. She longed to have the gloves she had left in her room as she blankly stared at the thin layer of dirt and dust already accumulating on the red and irritated skin.

Her entire body stung from what she assumed was the previous day. Time was irrelevant here as it was in her void of time. The lights above buzzed so quietly, yet noisily at the same time as Lena let any thoughts be drowned out by the sound. Her throat burned with thirst, and hunger had already begun gnawing at her stomach. Her condition required that she eat more food, which she was definitely not getting here. She could go maybe two weeks without food compared to the standard three or four. She desperately wished she could take a deep breath, but her lungs refused to expand at a satisfying rate thanks to the collar.

She absently noticed the wall, mere centimetres away from her, had three barely visible smudges on it, about the size of her hand. Blemishes in the metal, chaotic and unintentional. Slight mistakes nobody had noticed, tainting the otherwise near perfect sheet of metal. She didn't know why she cared about something so mundane, yet she didn't care that she cared. The smudges on the wall didn't plan to maim her in some way, so at least it was harmless.

Seconds blurred into minutes, and minutes into hours as Lena studied every detail of the slight smudges on the wall in front of her. The first one was clumped next to the second one, rounded and almost circular. The second one looked like a random smear, branching in several directions. The last one was somewhat detached from the other two and made something resembling a distorted heart. The smudges were only one or two shades

Tracer's pointless musings halted as her heart caught in her throat when she heard footsteps. The door opened with a hushed whirr. "You certainly seem comfortable, Freak" a familiar voice croaked as she pointedly refused to turn towards him. Freak. He wasn't wrong, not that she'd encourage him.

"Totally, thanks for the fancy arrangement," she snapped. Then she screamed as a wave of agony consumed her as electricity once again ripped through her already burnt flesh like fire. She writhed for several seconds, hardly able to tell she fell off the bed as she panted. The searing pain lingered for several seconds after the shocking stopped, leaving Lena unable to say when it actually had ended.

"I did not give you permission to speak. Your first lesson: you will not utter a single word to any of your owners unless directly asked to do so. This includes any Talon official, Widowmaker, Sombra, and myself. Is that understood?"

Lena glared, scrambling to sit up with her back against the wall. Reaper pressed another button, sending a quick and harsh shock through her body, causing her to yelp and clutch the metal around her stomach as though it helped, her eyes squeezed shut.

"I am speaking to you. Have I made myself clear?" His words were calm and patient like he had all the time in the world. He nonchalantly leant against the open door frame, one again taunting her with an impossible to achieve freedom.

"Crystal clear," she growled, grabbing the bed for support as she heaved herself up, clutching her head as the world tipped around her.

"Now, today we will be playing a 'game' of sorts," he explained in deadpan, shuffling the remote between his claws.

"Such fun," Tracer began, crying out as another sharp and sudden shock rushed through her, feeling as though she was stabbed.

"Silence! You were not told to speak!" he demanded in a gruff voice. Tracer begrudgingly quieted, being sure to glare daggers into him. She felt a headache forming from all the punishment.

"Now, I will explain the rules of our game, and you will follow them to a tee. If you do not, then I think you know I'm more than capable of putting you in your place, Freak."

Tracer rolled her eyes and rotated her hand in a "get on with it" gesture.

"I believe you've seen the stabilisers, yes?" his head tipped ever so slightly towards one of the mechanisms on the wall. "I'm going to shut all of them off, save one. Special waves of energy will be disseminated through the room. You will have ten seconds to reach the 'safe zone,' which will be one of the three stabilisers with a reduced radius. You will still be unable to leave the room, so don't bother trying."

He pointedly held up the remote and flipped a switch. The effects were immediate, as the world mostly detached itself from Lena. She could feel herself, and the aches and pains in her body were still there, but she was numb to everything around her as she noticed she was flickering unreliably. The cuffs, unfortunately, remained secured to her body.

The stabiliser on the far side of the room was dimly lit. Lena could reach it in six seconds if she wanted. She felt her grasp on the world fade as the seconds ticked on. She didn't move. She wasn't going to just do what he said. She wasn't going to be walked like a dog. Time ran out, and she was falling. She felt herself fall into the endless black void. It was almost peaceful, as her pains faded away.

Then she was back, her injuries sharper and fresher than ever as Reaper stormed over to her after she tumbled back onto the ground abruptly. "You were told to run." Before she could even reorient herself, he snatched her ankle up and picked her up by the leg, making her head hit the ground with a sickening thud before being lifted off the ground as her arms dangled below her, weighed down by the cuffs.

Lena saw stars as she tried to listen to what Reaper was saying. "Next time I say run, you will run. For that, I think you need a special punishment." He spent a couple seconds fiddling with his remote, finally pressing another button. Lena couldn't even comprehend what was happening until she felt her back slam against the wall, followed by her legs and arms, trapping her in an upside-down position, completely unable to move.

"Ugh! Let me go!" she commanded, immediately regretting her words as electricity ripped through her as she howled in anguish, twisting her shoulders as she jerked her body fruitlessly. She rasped for breath, choking and coughing as she desperately gasped in what little air the collar would allow her, feeling her vision dim as she glanced up spitefully at Reaper. He crouched to meet her eyes as she hung, with her head a foot from the ground. Her jacket would've completely fallen off had it not been stopped by her arm cuffs pinned securely to the wall.

"Comfortable? I think you'll just stay like this for a little while. Long enough so that the blood will rush to your head and cause some issues, but barely not so long as to cause permanent damage. Reaper grabbed Lena's chin, tipped her head, so she was forced to look at him. "And next time I say run, you will run. Do you understand, my freak?"

"Yes…" she croaked, forcing down another wave of coughs.

"Good. Now I will see you in a while." He nodded approvingly at her submission, then strode out of the room as Lena could only watch him with a mixture of humiliation and rage. She barely noticed Widowmaker greeting him in the doorway.

…

"You realise you may kill the girl before she fully submits to you," Widowmaker deadpanned once she and Reaper were a few minutes away from Lena's cell. They both made their way to the dorm rooms for the most valued agents, ignoring the frightened or nervous glances some of the lower-ranked Talon members shot them.

"I will not. She is not going to let herself be killed off so quickly. She is going to fight with every bit of energy her body can muster until her mind is destroyed."

"And what will you do with a destroyed mind?" Widowmaker asked calmly. "Strip her bare of her emotions in their entirety?"

"Not this time. We have more useful ways to turn the inevitable damage into a strength." They stood across from each other, both of them by their respective rooms that happened to be directly across from each other. The doors were metal with nameplates in colour matching the dark blue doorframe.

"And when exactly do you intend to address her human needs? That girl is already showing signs of starvation and dehydration, almost twice as fast as your other victims. Her cheeks have begun to sink in, and the bags under her eyes are not due to lack of rest," Widowmaker listed, leaning carelessly against the door. "It's an awful lot of trouble you are going to if you don't plan to give her what she needs to survive."

Reaper chuckled. "You know the drill. After her session, I'll have you bring her food and drink. Be sure to tell me of how she acts during this time."

The blue-skinned assassin rolled her eyes in mild irritation. "Yes, yes. 'I know the drill.' Unlike you, though, I have some interest in making sure she has some basic human functionalities that don't need to be fixed with machines. It is such a needless waste to strip her of being a person only to force a person back in with metal and wires."

Reaper laughed darkly. "Sounds to me like the heartless spider harbours some resentments."

Widowmaker tilted her head. "Talon stripped me of most of my emotions. I will hold on to what little I can feel. And if you care about what happens to you on your next mission, you won't mention it to the higher-ups," she noncommittedly threatened, knowing he didn't particularly care so long as her loyalty was authentic.

"You're quite nonchalant about your emotions," he commented, pulling off one of his claws to use the fingerprint scanner.

"What am I going to be? Sad?" she retorted smoothly, using a retinal scanner to unlock hers since fingerprint scanners had a harder time with her chilled skin. "Regardless, how long do you intend to keep your latest 'project' hung upside-down like that?"

"Another hour. By then the new pet should be thoroughly convinced that she must obey. Tomorrow, though, you must meet me at the Pit."

"I will be there," Widowmaker assured blankly, stepping into her room and leaving Reaper without another word as he did the same.

…

It didn't take long for Lena to feel dizzy and lightheaded. The burn from the shock had receded back to being a constant soreness covering her entire body. Her eyes had begun to hurt to the point that she couldn't bear to keep them open, squeezing them shut to mask the pain. She couldn't move her head in the slightest and struggled to draw breath as her neck was secured to the wall.

Her ears began to ring, and she heard each of her heart beats like thunder as the blood rushed to her head. She lost track of time as each second lasted an indefinite amount of time, ticking away innumerably though with no signs of reaching an end.

The seconds turned into minutes, each one paved with a burning thirst and sickening hunger. Lena would have thrown up if there was anything left in her stomach with which to do so. She began to lose the feeling in her toes and fingers as the painful tingling sensation claimed them instead.

Minutes edged closer and closer to an hour, and Tracer felt warm tears drip down her face. She peeked her eyes open and could see the reddish tint of blood out of the corner of her vision as they trailed to the tip of her nose before she slammed her eyes shut again, feeling herself gag. Her tongue was also beginning to hurt as she clamped her jaw around it as firmly as possible in an attempt to drown out the stinging.
"How are you holding up?" Reaper asked as he slid through the door, strutting pompously over to her. Tracer attempted to rasp something to him, only for it to devolve into a gasp of coughs as she splattered the ground with splotches of crimson.

"I think I'll let you down now, given you seem ready to listen." Reaper flipped a switch on the remote, and Lena tumbled haphazardly to the ground, hitting her head with a dull thud as she flipped to the side. She groaned, wrapping both her hands around where her head hit, pulling her legs close as she slid closer the edge of the wall.

"You have five minutes to recover, then we will do the game you foolishly refused last time."

Lena choked down a sob, refusing to give Reaper the satisfaction of hearing her cry as she instead took a shaky breath, breathing deeply as she waited for the feeling to go back to her toes and fingers and opening her eyes once the headache was manageable.

All too soon, Reaper called for her short recovery to end. "Enough. Get up. It is time to run."

Lena groaned, pushing her back against the wall and using as leverage, walking herself up the wall until she finally stood, wobbling but in no risk of falling.

"And, begin."

Lena sighed as she felt the world numb around her, leaving her isolated from all external stimulation. She whipped her head between the three stabilisers, noticing the one on the other side of the room was the only one lit. She ran to it, nearly tripping on several occasions as her breath ran short. She collided with the wall, unable to skid to a stop as she felt herself re-join the world a foot from the stabiliser. She panted, catching her breath.

"Again," Reaper called. He shut off the device near her, and so she sprinted desperately for the next one, tripping halfway as she forced herself clumsily to her feet, staggering into the safe zone just as the world had begun to go black around her. She stumbled right before stopping, twisting and slamming her back into the wall.

"Again." So, she ran again. "Again." She barely made it this time, lunging to the safe are a fraction of a second early as her legs had already begun to vanish. "Again." She had several seconds to catch her breath, which seemed to make her throat burn worse.

"Again."

"Again."

"Again."

Lena ran across the room again and again, over and over as she sprinted desperately between the safe zones like a mouse fleeing from its prey with no escape in sight; her legs grew heavier and heavier, weighed down by the metal, making her movements grow sluggish and her reactions slower as she struggled to even make it to the safe zone.

"Again."

The metal begged to meet the ground, Lena noticed Reaper turn a dial, and movement became harder as she took heaving steps after building up momentum just to be able to move her limbs. Steps became more difficult to make; she fell to the ground. She wouldn't make it to the safe zone. With what little traction her shoes could gain, she crawled to the device that would keep her here. She needed to be anchored. Lena planted a hand on the ground, shaking with the effort to prevent the arm cuff from weighing her down completely. Her back screamed as the cuff bent her spine unnaturally, as she crawled, barely not fading.

The weight lifted, and the stabiliser shut off again as she took off sprinting again, back and forth, back and forth between the contraptions. Occasionally Reaper activated the magnets, bringing Lena to a staggered crawl, other times she ran regularly. It hardly made a difference as the world began to blur around her, each movement almost entirely mechanical, though it was like functioning with only half of the screws in place. She was rickety and could fall apart at any time. Her throat burned like fire, her arms had long since become dead weight, dangling limply. Saliva and blood drooled from her cracked lips, and her legs began to drag on the ground as she moved. It didn't end. The agony worsened further and further until finally, it overpowered her. She collapsed on the ground without fanfare, with no chance of reaching the stabiliser. Lena blinked out of the world, reappearing in her black void. Yet it was different this time. It wasn't the previous vat of quiet it had once been. She still felt her body. She was undeniably in the void, but the pain that covered her like a blanket was still consuming and angry.

Before she could overthink it, she was back in her room. She shivered violently, edging away from Reaper in a panic as he made his way over to Lena. The mask made his expression unreadable as his footsteps echoed menacingly. He had the remote in hand. Lena's raspy, unsteady breathing quickened. She tried to stand up, but her arms refused to hold her weight, collapsing beneath her. Reaper crouched down, and reached out to her with his clawed hand, outstretched and ready to do anything.

"Well done, my Pet," he almost cooed, his raspy voice somehow melodic. He brushed his hand through her matted and tangled hair, somehow managing to avoid snagging on any knots. Lena's back stiffened and she clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him. Her cheeks were bright red with humiliation as she tried not to recoil.

"You did well. I did not even need to tell you to run. I am pleased you kept going for as long as you did. Then again, running from everything has always been a particular talent of yours, hasn't it? First, your condition, then yourself, after that, Overwatch. Now, though, you can run for Talon, and put your incredible skill somewhere it belongs." Reaper continued petting her hair as he mused, each claw touching her skull barely enough to send shivers down her spine at the unnatural touch.

"Now, how does that sound, hmm? Are you ready to run for us instead of against us?"

Tracer grit her teeth, "No way am I going to do your dirty work!" she declared, her voice coarse and weak, almost hard to understand.

"I see. I suppose we will just have to try again tomorrow. Great work today, though. I'm very proud of you," his voice refused to lose that rasping, almost song-like melody as he stopped stroking her hair, striding smoothly down the room. Lena hunched her back as he let go, letting her head bob forward.

There was mumbling outside the door. Then new footsteps echoed through the room as Lena mustered the energy to look up. It was Widowmaker, clad in the outfit Lena had always seen her in from the opposite side of the battlefield. The only difference was that her hair was down, and she was carrying a tray.

Lena recoiled as Widowmaker balanced the tray on one hand and offered her other to her. She was proposing to help her up? Maybe it was a trick. Some cruel taunt. Lena was too tired to care, physically and emotionally as she grabbed the cold hand, though Widowmaker undoubtedly did most of the work getting Tracer to her feet and leading her to the bed.

Widowmaker set the tray next to Lena, who leaned absently in the corner of the wall as she sat on the platform. There was a sandwich, some orange slices, a pudding cup with a plastic spoon, and a standard bottle of water. There was also a damp towel and the remote Reaper had been using, which Widowmaker quickly picked up off the tray and set out of Lena's reach.

It was the best-looking meal Lena had ever seen. She flicked her eyes between Widowmaker and the food, unsure as the assassin sat down next to her, grabbing the water bottle and opening it before passing it to her.

Lena used both hands to hold the water bottle, not wanting to risk dropping it as she raised it to her lips without hesitation, taking several large gulps of the cold liquid as it soothed her throat. It was incredibly hard to swallow on account of the collar, but Lena hardly cared. She finally forced herself to stop roughly halfway through the bottle, grabbing the sandwich and taking small, tentative bites as she struggled to swallow.

"Allow me to help you with that, though it will go back on when you finish," Widowmaker gestured to the collar clamped firmly around the prisoner's neck. Lena tensed suddenly as Widowmaker pressed a button on the remote, and immediately took a gasping breath as her lungs filled with air as the collar came loose. The chilled air of the room simultaneously agitated and soothed the scarred, bloodied, and burnt skin beneath it as Lena just enjoyed a few seconds of unrestricted breath.

Soon, Lena moved on to wolfing the sandwich down in a few short bites. It was delicious, though Lena didn't even take the time to figure out what ingredients were on it.

"I am aware that this is not but a fraction of the sustenance you require to maintain optimal health," Widowmaker pointed out as Lena started on the orange slices, her eyes dripping with tears from a tidal wave of overpowering emotions. "This was all I could bring you. It should be barely enough to keep you alive, but not much more. You will not feel your hunger properly sated for a while." Widowmaker grabbed the pudding cup from Lena as her shaking hands struggled to open it. "This is okay, right?" she asked as she handed it back and Lena dug into it mercilessly. It wasn't a request for approval, it was an invitation to speak.

When the pudding was scraped out of the bottom of the plastic cup, Lena grabbed the water bottle and hastily finished what was left of it. Her head remained bowed as she set the bottle back on the tray.

"Thank you…" Was all she muttered, her damaged voice somewhat easier to listen to after the water.

Widowmaker nodded and handed the towel to Lena. She reluctantly took it, wiping any of the food, saliva, and blood off her face. The once lavender cloth had been blemished with splotches of blood when she finally handed it back to Widowmaker wordlessly.

"Now, the collar must go back on, and I will take my leave."

Lena ducked her head, refusing to say anything as Widowmaker clicked the collar back on as gingerly as was possible, still causing Lena to flinch as the untreated wound was reunited with the metal, still lukewarm from her body heat.

Without any fanfare, Widowmaker took the tray and left the room, sliding the door shut behind her. Lena almost fell backwards onto the bed, resentment, anger, embarrassment, fear, and sorrow spiralling together in an unbridled hurricane. She deserved to have the shock collar back on. After all, she had conformed perfectly to what Reaper had wanted. In less than a day, she let herself be "tamed" into the pet he wanted. She had failed in the very thing she had resolved to prevent from the beginning. She really was nothing more than a pathetic thing, and she deserved little more than what she was receiving. But still... She refused to give up. She would not submit to Reaper's orders, doing his dirty work, just because of some pain. She would die before that.

Lena fell asleep with these thoughts circling in her mind.