Heya guys! Just popping in with a new chapter! Please let me know what you think. One side note I need to make, though, is that this game has A LOT OF CHARACTERS. Now, while most of the focus is on a select few, I do try to give all the characters at least a little time in the sun. Please let me know if you want to see any of them in particular, and I'll see what I can do. No promises, but I figured I'd throw the offer out there.
Secondly, if you see any really weird conjoined words, blame FFN. It sucks like that.
Finally, if you've gotten this far in this story, you either like Tracer, the lore of the story, or need a social life. I happen to fulfil all three. If you wanna add me on Discord or Skype to chat about the lore and stuff, because seriously the lore on this game is great, just ask me and I'll gladly exchange tags with you! Anyway, have a wonderful day everyone, and enjoy!
Chapter 24: Distraction
Hana once again found that she couldn't move. She had no form; she was a concept. Back in the empty void of nothingness, Hana's thoughts ran in circles as to what just happened. Tracer had really given up. Now, Talon had given her something to distort her personality into… Slipstream, as she called herself.
Hana would have moaned at the petty torment Slipstream had used as she repeatedly deactivated her harness. It didn't insult Hana. The pain was no more than an annoyance. There was no reason Hana should have been bothered by it, yet she was.
For a few, brief, wonderful seconds, Hana had been whole again. She could speak, she could touch, and she could feel pain. She had been a human. Then Slipstream took that away again. Hana realised, in that instant, just what she had signed up for by removing the sympathiser. Thanks to her actions, she was now trapped in a loop of fading and dreaming then briefly reappearing, only to lose that again soon after. Now that Slipstream had seen Hana like that, and still not come back to Overwatch, it truly was for nothing. Hana had given up her physical body for nothing.
Hana forced the thought away as she crowded her mind with reassuring and defensive declarations. "No! Now they can't continue to use me against them!" "Lena was being controlled by something, if we get that out, we can save her, and she doesn't need to stay with Talon!" "Now, at the very least, I can understand how she felt!"
Hana continued the mental war, trying to force out her negative thoughts. No matter how much sought to ward off the regret, though, it remained there, nagging her in the back of her head. Deciding to force everything out of her mind, she moved on to musing over something else.
The device controlling Lena's mind. What exactly was it? Lena had seemed like an entirely different person. According to her, it blocked out negative emotions, allowing her to only feel positive ones.
The implications of such a machine were downright horrific. Without negative feelings, Slipstream was incapable of having a guilty conscience, and thanks to how Talon manipulated her during her "conversion," she would shamelessly follow her Talon orders.
Was it even possible to get Slipstream to see the error of her ways? Perhaps the only hope was to force her to undergo the surgery to remove the device affecting her brain, then maybe she would go back to who she once was. After that, they could begin undoing the damage on her mental health.
Slipstream, right now, though, had no allies. She had only superiors. Nobody could be there to help her. She didn't perceive Overwatch as allies, Overwatch couldn't offer her help, and all everybody at Talon wanted with her was a weapon. Overwatch would have to recapture her, very much so against her will.
Then Hana began to sink, her thoughts clouding as memories and sensations began to invade. It was happening again. Then, darkness became light, and she became someone else.
…
The first thing Hana realised was that she couldn't move. Not just in the sense that she was someone else, but even that person physically couldn't move. She was contorted into an awkward position with all limbs pinned to the ground, along with the neck being bent awkwardly. The person's torso was also stuck to the floor.
The next thing Hana noticed was how much pain the person was in. Her entire body was perpetually stinging, though in some areas it felt closer to fire than a typical sting
Hana realised with a dawning sense of trepidation who she was. She was Tracer before Talon finally converted her.
's brain began to spin with worries about what she would experience. Why, of all times, did she have to be brought to Tracer's torture? What decided where she faded to?
The room was the same one Reaper had made the video in, and by some unseen force, Lena was stuck to the ground. She stared ahead, devoting all her effort to taking short, laboured breaths. Lena's breath was ragged, and her lungs stung. Often, Lena's breath would hitch, and she broke into a fit of rough coughs as blood splattered on the ground in front of her, dribbling down her chin.
Lena's mind was foggy, as though she wasn't acutely aware of her surroundings. Thoughts ran in loops like a broken record."Breathe… breathe… stuck… breathe… beathe… breathe… breathe… neck collar… cuffs… hard to breathe… breathe… in… out… in… out…"
Hana would have given anything to not need to see this again, to not need to feel the agony, to not need to smell the odour of burnt flesh. But she was here, so maybe she could try to learn something about Talon.
As it turns out, being Tracer involved a lot of groggy waiting. Lena was all alone in the room as she listened to her own breathing and the hum of the lights above. Several times, Lena drifted off into a comatose state, only to jolt back awake by a fresh wave of pain.
"Bored… tired… can't sleep… wonder what McCree and Genji and Winston are doing… hope they're okay… worried… are they looking for me? I need help… breathe… I wonder when Reaper is coming back… maybe Sombra will come… tired… breathe… alone…"
Hana listened intently to Lena's thoughts, if only because she was incapable of doing much else.
Then the door opened behind Tracer, and her adrenaline began to flow as her heart began to pound painfully in her chest.
Suddenly, Tracer's awkwardly contorted limbs loosened as whatever was holding her to the ground came loose. After this happened, Lena immediately curled inward, hugging her good knee to her chest as she shivered violently. Hana could tell that Lena was physically incapable of moving her damaged knee.
Then the person entering the room spoke. "Dios mio. Reaper really needs to chill it with the floor magnets." Hana recognised the voice as the person on the HoloVid before she transferred over to Reaper. It was Sombra. Her voice was more annoyed than anything as she walked in front of Lena.
"Sit up, wouldja? I'm not going to hurt you or anything. I just have some water for you," she said, leaning against the wall as Lena heaved herself to a sitting position. Lena continued to shiver, though now it was more from the dry discomfort of the stale air around her. Hana felt Lena calm herself down, though still very much so on guard and wary.
Sombra waved a water bottle in front of Lena before uncapping it. Then she pressed a button on the remote she held in her other hand, and oxygen made its way into Lena's lungs as she took huge, gulping breaths of the lukewarm air.
"I'm just gonna loosen the collar this time. I wasn't able to bring a towel or anything to clean you off with, and I don't feel like watching your blood gush everywhere. Now drink."
Sombra offered the bottle to Lena, who's hand trembled so violently from general exhaustion that she could not hold it. Sombra sighed. "Okay, let me help. Otherwise, you'll spill all over yourself." Gingerly, Sombra crouched to the ground and held the bottle at Lena's lips, carefully tipping it upward. Lena's cheeks burned from embarrassment, but nonetheless, she sipped it wordlessly, gradually taking larger gulps until the entire bottle was finished. Hana could feel the incessant thirst was far from quenched, and hunger seemed to gnaw at her stomach more than ever, yet Lena was oddly satisfied in some morbid way.
"Now, let's cut to the chase…" Sombra sighed as she screwed the lid on the empty bottle, standing back up. "You should really give up. Soon, Reaper plans to come in and record you like this eventually if you keep this up. Then he's going to send it to the entire world. He also has a lot more than the Pit planned for you. Namely another sick game involving your fun recall ability. You could either give up or let the entire world see you as this mess." Sombra paused to let it sink in as Lena's mind began to whirr. She watched Sombra warily, searching for any deception in her voice.
"So? Will you please just give in already?"
Lena looked away and shook her head.
"Geez, come on! I'm trying to offer you an out. Why wouldn't you just give up? You're in a lose-lose situation, and I'm in no position to do much more than follow orders. This is the most I can do for you!"
Lena's shoulder's slumped, though she did not say anything. Sombra growled in frustration. "But why? You've got nothing to gain by doing this! Unless you count scars, that is."
After a few seconds of thinking, Lena looked up at the hacker in something akin to resignation. She opened her mouth and rasped out two words. "I… can't…" Lena put her hand to her mouth and worked to stifle coughs as Sombra rolled her eyes.
"But… why? All you're doing is imposing punishment on yourself."
When she was done coughing, Lena shrugged. "You said Reaper is going to… record me… well..." Lena paused and broke into another fit of coughs. "Then I especially can't… I'm not allowed to just give up over a little pain…"
"You can't? Says who?"
"Says everyone, actually. I'm the Overwatch poster-girl, as dumb as that is. Some kids look up to me… and authorities that judge… Overwatch based on my… actions."
"So, you'd rather have yourself hurt and humiliated?!" Sombra grunted, making Lena flinch.
"Of course not… I don't want to stay here like this… I just have no other choice. If I give in just because of some pain, that'll reflect horribly on Overwatch."
Sombra sighed and rubbed her temples. "But… like… this sucks- having to sit to the side and watch this- it's really… just… not fun."
Lena chuckled mirthlessly. "Tell me about it. I'm not exactly having a party over here either… I thought you didn't care about me, though. You were the one that brought me here… in the first place."
"Well, I didn't expect you to take four days to change your mind. I figured it'd be relatively fast, and that after a little bit of Reaper doing his thing, that we'd skip to painless neural reconditioning or something!" Sombra winced, looking away.
"You're really not helping your case."
"It sounded better in my head," she defended with a short laugh. "In any case, is there anything I can do to get you to stop with the stubborn thing?"
"You could always let me go," Lena tried in a tired voice.
"You know that's not going to happen."
"Yeah, I know," Lena said in deadpan. "Though, I'm still holding out hope that Overwatch is coming. I probably shouldn't, but whatever…"
Sombra seemed conflicted for a moment. "Trust me, there's no way Overwatch is getting here. Reaper's making sure of it."
"What's he hoping for anyway?" Lena stifled another cough with her hand on her mouth, which came back bright red. Lena seemed unbothered. "So far I've not exactly been convinced of the righteousness of this little group…"
"Oh, I think you know what he's doing, given the 'obedient little pet' thing he's been on about," Sombra answered as she rolled her eyes. "He's not exactly concerned with how you feel about your new 'occupation.'"
"True," Lena agreed with a certain sense of detachment and her emotions carefully and deliberately tucked away. She tilted her head. "What are you after, though? You seem able to escape Talon if you don't like it, and you don't appear to agree with Reaper, so why are you here?"
Sombra's expression grew guarded as she watched Lena. "Information. That's all you need to know."
"Oh, you mean like how the Slipstream works?" Lena jabbed, leaning against the wall as she stared at one of the stabilisers on the other end of the room.
"You wouldn't understand," Sombra retorted.
"Oh, so you're being vague, huh? Saying that is the same thing as saying you don't have a justification."
"My reasons are mine alone. It is none of your business."
Lena turned to Sombra with a strange mixture of calm and resignation. "I think when this search for information interferes with my life like it has, it does sort of become my business."
Sombra rolled her eyes. "So what? What are you going to do about it? Whine to me about how I 'ruined your life' by crashing that jet?"
"Of course not. I couldn't care less about what it actually did to me. What I have a problem with is that you were willing to make it crash, regardless of who the pilot is. I mean, who could have predicted the chronal disassociation that it caused? For all anyone knew, crashing it would only lead to death." Lena paused as she began to hack and retch, more blood splattering to the ground.
Before she was even done coughing, Sombra stood up, tightening her grip on the controller. "I did what I had to do. I wasn't going to let Overwatch have such valuable technology! By making it malfunction, a ban was put on the project!"
Lena spoke up now, her hoarse voice raised for the first time. "Yeah, but you could have done it during one of the dummy tests!"
"No, I couldn't have! Talon wanted me to shut down the project completely! Research would have continued if I didn't do it during a proper test flight! So, I made the most of it! I hacked the jet, took some of the data for myself, and crashed it as quickly as I could!" she shouted, glaring at Lena.
"But there was someone alive in there! Whether it was me or someone else, there was somebody alive in that cockpit!"
"Look, I came here to help you! Not have my decisions mocked, so just come off it! I doubt you'd care if it was anybody other than you in that cockpit!"
Lena crossed her cuffed arms and glowered. "Don't speak for how I feel! Do I wish the crash hadn't happened? Sometimes, yes, I do! But that doesn't have anything to do with the fact thatyou crashed a jet that had a living person in it!" Lena broke off into another fit of coughs from the strain on her parched throat.
"Bequiet!" Sombra screeched, pressing a button as the collar on Lena's neck tightened abruptly, causing her to wheeze and cough and choke even more as she clawed at her neck to try and breathe.
Lena dropped to the ground with her cuffs as she bucked against the magnetic pull as Sombra stormed out of the room. The last thing Hana saw before returning to her void was Sombra wiping her face as she stormed out of the chamber.
Hana returned to her darkness, left to ponder what she just experienced.
…
Widowmaker watched the girl in the cockpit curiously. The loot from the Gibraltar mission sat in a crate that Sombra was nervously picking through, gingerly checking the bombs they had attained. Sombra flinched every time the ship encountered turbulence, as though she expected the colourful, unpredictable explosives to go off at the drop of a hat. She squeaked as the ship lurched, causing her to drop one of the items.
"Slipstream! Mind being a little gentler? I'd rather not blow us all to pieces!"
Slipstream turned from the cockpit, only keeping one hand on the controls as she gave Sombra an amused glance.
"Yeah, okay. I'll channel my secret ability to control the wind that came with the time powers." Slipstream then giggled at her own joke, to which Sombra rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious! These bombs could blow us up at the drop of a hat with how scrapped together these are!
"You guys are the ones that chose to go for the Junker's bombs instead of any other fancy technology Overwatch has," Slipstream retorted as Sombra waved at her to turn back around and focus on the controls. "But man, that was easy! I didn't even need to draw my guns! I mean, I knew the lot would be surprised, but wow, they're way too soft! I think Jesse was the only one to even shoot at me!
"Shouldn't you have been at least a little worried about that?" Widowmaker asked coolly. Slipstream giggled, setting her head against the seat.
"Nah. He first went for the prosthetic, which, hey, didja know I can rewind my own time?" Slipstream's sarcasm was palpable. "'Cause I can. So, pop, back to normal! Or whatever the hell passes for normal in this freak show. Anyway, yeah. He was too sentimental to even try being lethal with his shots. Kinda dumb if you ask me! I didn't even get a challenge!"
Widowmaker quirked an eyebrow. "You certainly seem… energetic."
Slipstream bounced in her seat, by some miracle managing to keep the jet from doing the same. "And you seem cold as always. Lighten up for once!"
The assassin snorted. "Well, it seems your latest augmentation is doing its job then."
Sombra rolled her eyes. "The sympathiser is made to block out negative emotions, not make her hyper. That's all her. Did you drink coffee or eat anything sugary?" she asked to Slipstream, who shrugged carelessly.
"No. I don't think I've eaten anything since yesterday afternoon."
Sombra jumped. "What? Why not?! You went into combat without having eaten in over twenty-four hours? You need the food! You're still skinny as hell!"
Slipstream shrugged again. "Guess so. I'm fine though, so don't worry about it. Am I even allowed in the kitchen?"
"Of course you are!" Sombra nearly shouted. Widowmaker watched the twosome passively. "You have the same privileges as Widowmaker and I, pretty much! Okay, first thing we do when you get us back there is get you some food! Are you not even hungry?"
Slipstream paused, thinking for a moment, as though it was genuinely difficult for her to tell. "I mean, I'm hungry, but whatever. I'll be fine!"
"That's not how hunger works!"
Widowmaker held up her hand to Sombra, drawing the hacker's attention. "You say the sympathiser blocks out negative emotions. Negative emotions are what trigger a survival response. And also without her ability to feel negatively about pain or hunger, it can lead to a lessened sense of self-preservation."
Reaper, who's presence had been all but forgotten, chuckled darkly. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Widowmaker ignored him.
"Ugh, in other words, I have to babysit the newbie?" Sombra groaned, setting one of the bombs back into the cargo crate.
Reaper nodded. "I do hope you don't mind," he added in mock politeness, leaning back in his seat.
Sombra rolled her eyes and turned to Widowmaker curiously. "What, have you forgotten to eat before?" She leaned against the wall of the ship, not bothering to sit in one of the seats.
The spider shrugged. "On occasion, though it is rare now. I survived on injections during the process of my augmentations. After that, it was difficult to get back into the habit of consuming sustenance."
"How does one have trouble 'consuming sustenance?' If you're hungry, wouldn't you eat?"
"Not when you lack the ability to feel the emotions that drive you to care for yourself."
Sombra hummed thoughtfully. "That sounds super annoying. Slipstream, any chance I can just order you to eat?"
Slipstream propped her prosthetic leg on the control panel in front of her as she turned to Sombra. "You know I have to do what you say," she said carelessly. "Don't ask questions you know the answer to." Slipstream yawned, tipping her head backward to look at Reaper.
"So, Boss, what're these bombs for, anyway? I'm all for a fun outing, but it seems kinda weird to go for-"
The ghostly man held up his hand to silence Slipstream. "Classified." Slipstream reacted immediately, shutting her mouth as her expression went neutral. She turned back around with a calm yet firm grip on the controls in front of her. She didn't press the matter further.
Sombra sighed, looking away from the pilot to Widowmaker.
"Where have you been lately, anyway? I don't remember seeing you around."
"My home. Château Guillard in France. I lived there with my husband before I joined Talon." Widowmaker answered without concern.
The hacker huffed as she idly pulled up one of her HoloVid projectors. "Must be a lot of happy memories there."
"Don't be a pest."
"Please. I squish pests. Well, bugs… same thing!"
Widowmaker rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Slipstream, who still had her eyes straight ahead after Reaper ordered her to be silent. If the pilot noticed Widowmaker's fascinated gaze, she didn't show it.
Slipstream seemed perfectly fine if given a cursory glance. However, upon further analysis, Widowmaker noticed how one hand was fidgeting on the controls, her head was dipped almost imperceptibly, and one of her eyelids was drooping ever so slightly further than the other. She looked to be exhausted, yet forcing all that exhaustion away through sheer force of will.
Slipstream might have strained herself, going on a mission so soon after her recovery, coupled with all the medical treatments as of late. Her stamina would take some time to build back up.
Perhaps some light aerobic training was in order soon.
It was odd, looking at someone who had once been Widowmaker's enemy as an ally. Lena Oxton appeared to be an entirely different, yet similar, person. The snide yet peppy remarks that had once been laced with condescension towards Widowmaker were now mirthful and sardonic sarcasm. Slipstream was devoid of a care in the world. It was difficult to tell if this is how Oxton acted in a casual situation devoid of enemies or if it was a result of the implant in her brain coupled with the process of her conversion. She still seemed able to function properly, which was a fascinating thing. Widowmaker would need to press her on her behaviour later. Overall, Slipstream seemed to have adjusted with impressive speed. Perhaps the sympathiser was the kind of tool Talon would have used on her had it been available at the time.
"Widowmaker," Reaper rasped, drawing her attention away. "You're going to be on standby at the base until we decide which target to go for next. Personally, I'm leaning towards those candy-coloured teenagers, but Doomfist wants to see Sombra first concerning one of her friends."
The man worded it so nonchalantly, hardly even directing his statement at the hacker, yet Sombra was instantly on edge.
"My friend? I have a lot of friends. I'm very social," she joked nervously, scrolling through random web pages on her HoloVid.
"Oh, I'm sure you can figure out which one he's referring to. Take it up with him when he gets back from scouting out Rio de Janeiro."
Sombra nodded stiffly, giving him a thumbs up before focusing intently on whatever article she was reading.
"We still have a lot of work to do," Reaper commented, turning to the pilot of the jet. "Don't let me down, Slipstream."
Slipstream responded with some of the energy back in her voice as she did a small salute. "You got it, Boss."
…
"I'm tellin' ya! They took our best work! My masterpieces! Fine works of art that had a wonderful life ahead of them!" the soot-covered man whined from his seat, kicking his feet up on the table. Symmetra, who got roped into sitting next to him, carefully averted her gaze as she looked to Winston.
"Why do you think they took the technology of these ruffians, of all people?" she asked stiffly, trying to lean away from the man without appearing rude.
Mei, from the seat across of Symmetra, hummed thoughtfully. "I mean, can't Talon make way more efficient bombs than that?"
Winston nodded, his eyes dull and unfocused. "Yes, and if they were lacking on resources, they would have gone after Torbjörn, Symmetra, Efi, or myself with genuine efforts, yet their best agents were on the Junkers' quarters."
Efi chirped up, who was sitting next to Orisa. She was fidgety and nervous, still on edge from having a fight break out so close to her. "Do they plan on blowing things up with those bombs to pin it on the Junkers, and Overwatch by association?"
Shaking her head, Ana cupped her head with folded hands. "The Junkers' presence here is top-secret, but a few more explosions won't do much more but raise the bounty on their heads. Overwatch wouldn't be affected in the slightest."
The silence hung over the air as all the agents were deep in thought. Roadhog was not sitting, instead opting to stand behind Junkrat, his emotions hidden behind his mask. Soldier 76 was pacing around pensively, and Mercy was tapping her fingers on the table in front of her. Lúcio just seemed tired as he sat next to Efi. The DJ leaned back in his chair, his gaze unfocused and stressed. He put a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. Efi watched him for a moment before speaking back up, though even her voice was strained.
"I mean, come on! We'll make this up somehow! What… what other missions are planned? I'm sure Orisa and I can help out somehow!"
Mercy shook her head, giving Efi an appreciative smile. "You are doing more than enough helping Agent Song."
Efi stammered, hunching over in her chair. "But… I haven't even done anything…"
Hanzo bowed his head as he thought. "Speaking of Agent Song, where is she? How has she been?" His voice wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rude, either.
"Hell if I know," Lúcio said as he fell forward, supporting his head with one hand. Mercy watched him with concern. This time it was Genji who spoke up, standing next to a notably silent McCree next to the door.
"Hana Song is currently lost in time," he responded carefully, his voice blank with his eyes hidden behind his green visor.
Torbjörn huffed. "Seems to me like we have our priorities all over the place. I say we set a goal and start being productive instead of sitting around throwing a pity party."
Zenyatta was close by, seated in a chair next to Hanzo with Bastion behind him. "Many of us have found ourselves plagued by anguish as of late. I believe our best course of action would be to move onward in hopes of achieving our individual goals."
"So then, where should we go from here? I say we get back in the fight and make Overwatch's presence known." Reinhardt suggested with notable more pep in his voice than the rest of the room.
Some of the more observant agents couldn't help but notice McCree ball his hand into a fist as he leaned against the wall, his hat covering his eyes.
Pharah hummed thoughtfully. "From what I've heard, Russia is in the middle of a fight with the Omnics. This would be an opportune time to lend assistance."
Winston sighed, his head down. "There's also a meeting in the UK concerning Overwatch and where we stand. It shouldn't be more than paperwork and rules, but preferably some of you guys will join me."
"Who do you plan on having join you?" Pharah asked, her posture perfect as she sat with her hands folded in front of her.
Winston sighed in melancholy again. "Preferably, Reinhardt, Torbjörn, Dr Ziegler, and anyone else who is willing and not an outlaw."
Soldier 76 huffed in dry amusement.
"I would be glad to join, should my presence be welcome," Zenyatta offered. "Perhaps I could represent the Shambali monks."
Winston nodded approvingly, though Torbjörn grunted. "I'm going to Russia, and I'm taking the Bastion with me."
Mercy hummed in concern. "Are you sure it's wise to take an e54 Bastion unit to Russia?"
"It'll be okay," Torbjörn dismissed. "I'll give him a paint job and be careful about things." Bastion whirred in appreciation.
"I can represent Helix, though I feel I will also be useful fighting the violent Omnics in Russia." Pharah glanced nervously at the collection of Omnics in the room, as though worried about causing offence.
Ana chipped in hastily. "I believe I could go to Russia and help the wounded in Dr Ziegler's stead, under cover of course. My daughter is best going to help with the Overwatch public relations."
Winston nodded distractedly, scribbling down sloppy notes on a clipboard as Pharah gave her mother a slightly annoyed glance. Ana didn't react.
Hanzo rotated his arm, which had been healing nicely. "I believe I am prepared to take my bow back up. I will assist in the fight."
Mei hummed gleefully. "I'll go to the meeting. After that, I'll need to go around the world on some business, if that's okay."
"I'll go to Russia under cover," Soldier 76 grunted. "It'd probably be best if the Junkers stay here, though."
"Oi! I don't wanna stay here! I wanna scrap some bots!" he shouted, oblivious to the frustrated beeps and boops from Bastion.
"I don't see why they can't join," Ana offered. "So long as they don't act in affiliation to Overwatch."
"Hell yeah! We're goin' on a trip Roadie!" Junkrat cheered. "I'll get to vent some steam from them Talon guys takin' my stuff!"
Mercy watched as Winston scribbled down pitiful notes, only somewhat paying attention. She sighed, taking a pen out of her lab pocket and stealing the clipboard from Winston, who grunted in protest.
She wrote something down quickly and showed it to Ana, who nodded in approval.
"If this is how we want to do it, then that means Winston, myself, Mei, Symmetra, Pharah, Reinhardt, and Zenyatta will be going to the meeting in the UK. Ana, Hanzo, Junkrat, Roadhog, and Jack will be going to Russia, then. That leaves Jesse, Genji, Efi, Orisa, Hana, and Lúcio watching the base."
Efi moaned. "Aw, why do I have to stay here? I'm sure Orisa and I can be helpful!"
Ana chuckled. "Jack would blow a fuse if we took a kid to war, and those meetings are boring as sand," she joked, making Efi giggle a bit.
"Not to mention, with Winston gone, that leaves you to work on a solution for Agent Song's condition," Mercy added politely.
"We also have that big stream coming up…" Lúcio muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Help Overwatch's appearance to the public, get money for the accelerator… things like that."
"But what about Orisa?" Efi pressed, leaning against the remodelled OR15, who put her arm around the child protectively.
"Extra defence, should anything go south," Soldier 76 offered quickly.
"Hmm… Yes sir," Efi conceded after a moment's thought. "My parents would kill me if they heard I went to a war anyway."
"We can't have that, now can we?" Mercy chuckled.
McCree finally spoke up, his voice cold, with even his thick southern drawl concealed by slow, deliberate words. "So, we're just going to ignore the big elephant in the room?"
The room was dead silent as everyone looked away in discomfort. Winston buried his head in his hands. Lúcio and Efi exchanged worried glances. Genji looked away, barely moving. Mercy sighed glumly, shutting her eyes. Reinhardt balled his hand into a fist. Everyone else watched in discomfort.
"Really? We don't got nothing we can do about her? We're just going to leave her like that, with them?"
"What do you expect us to do about her?" Mercy said, looking up to McCree, who was chewing on an unlit cigar. "She attacked our base, and we don't know where Talon retreated to. And if what Winston described is true, she's hardly even herself anymore."
"That doesn't mean we just give up on her!" McCree screeched, the cigar dropping from his mouth.
"Well, what do you propose we do?" Mercy offered, her voice calm yet tired.
"I- I don't know, dammit! Doesn't the accelerator have a tracker in it? Maybe we can hunt down Talon's location! Something! Anything! We can't just leave her like that!"
"No…" Winston muttered. "I checked… the accelerator's tracker was removed."
"We can't just leave her and move on to the next project!" McCree continued, slamming his prosthetic against the wall. "She was tortured by Talon, we failed to save her, we got another agent stuck in the same Hell she lives in, and she had her emotions drained away, but we're not doing anything? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Jesse, I understand you're mad, but…" Mercy began, only for Jesse to cut her off.
"MAD?Mad don't even begin to describe it!" the cowboy fumed, his eyes full of agony. Genji didn't move. "She doesn't deserve that! She deserves so much better! But NO! We're leaving her in the hands of god damn terrorists without a mind to call her own!"
Jesse stumbled, leaning over as he hit the wall again, this time with less strength to muster. "Slipstream… she called herself Slipstream… figures Talon would give her a name like that… they just gotta rub salt in the wound…"
"Jesse… we don't have any way to find her…" Winston mumble. "I'd be the first person to go after her if it was even possible."
McCree glared at everyone for several seconds, before turning around. "Nothin' we can do, huh?" He sighed, short and angry, though out of energy. "I'll be in the chamber." He stormed out before anyone could protest.
Genji remained motionless for several extra seconds, before ultimately deciding to follow McCree.
Morrison sighed in annoyance. "I see they haven't cooled their hot heads yet. Idiots. I'll be right back." He left the room as everyone watched in various mixes of gloominess and confusion.
"Shimada," he stated plainly as he caught the ninja outside the door, heading in the direction the cowboy was going.
"Yes, Commander?" Genji said politely, though venom laced his words from behind the visor.
"Tell the cowboy to come see me when his head is screwed on straight. I might have a lead for him, but I'm not sharing unless he agrees to not beeline out of here."
Genji nodded appreciatively and left without further discussion.
…
When Hana reappeared, it was dark out, and Jesse was next to her. She blinked in surprise, not sure how long he had been waiting or long she was gone. He had a book in his hands, and it was surprisingly thick as he flipped through the pages. Genji was in the room as well, sitting against one of the walls in a meditation pose. He noticed her instantly and made a sound akin to clearing one's throat, and McCree set the book down when he saw the ghost.
"Howdy there. How're you holdin' up, Darlin'?"
Hana wrinkled her nose at the nickname. He chuckled. "I'm guessin' you're not too eager to chat about it. Don't worry, ya don't need to."
Hana nodded gratefully and gestured to the book he was holding.
He tipped his hat. "Well, since it seems you're in this for the long-haul, and I've got nothin' to do for a bit, I figured I'd show ya some sign language."
Hana blinked in surprise at the suddenness of the offer.
Genji sighed. "Jesse assisted Lena with it as well. Hana's eyes widened as she realised the reason and weight behind the offer. She nodded.
"Alrighty then," McCree said without further conversation. "My sign language is rusty as Hell, but if ya could learn my stupid language, you should be fine."
"Yes, English is a horrible language," Genji added from his side of the room.
Hana chuckled silently as McCree shot the cyborg a dirty glare. Then he opened up the book. The cover read Introduction to Sign Language, and the book showed visible signs of wear-and-tear. Pen marks were common on all the pages along with the occasional soot stain from cigars.
"So the first thing to start with should probably be the alphabet."