As soon as I was allowed back on my feet, that's where I was running around and doing paperwork or running errands for my bosses, like my day off had never even happened. I had everything done with impeccable timing, and then proceeded to have more paperwork thrown at me. Apparently, we were signing for a new space project, one that would cost billions, but could help the whole world make strides towards more knowledge about the universe.

I didn't look into it much, I just read over the papers as I usually did, and scribbled my signature on the line. It was like that for hours, every once in awhile, I would stand and deliver papers to my superior's offices, but then it would be right back to my desk.

Eventually, I was let off duty and gave me my freedom for the night. I decided to put a rigorous workout into my evening, feeling up for pushing myself. I could feel the soreness in my muscles almost immediately after stopping my movement, knowing I probably shouldn't have gone quite so hard. But I just showered and headed to the workshop, where I found Torbjorn had already clocked out for the evening.

He was tinkering with some new toy, after a brief examination, I found it was a new shielding device for the island. Terrorist groups occasionally liked to get cocky and send some missiles our way, but they were never able to penetrate the self-healing fibrous wall. But last time a missile had come Overwatch's way, nearly a year previous, they had managed to dent our shields.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I popped the mechanism open, seeing the familiar gears and wires that was Torbjorn's trademark. The old-fashioned, but extremely effective methods were helpful out in battle, simply because they could be made quickly. But Torbjorn was not to be underestimated, he was up to date and making long strides towards international changes in technology.

I saw a complicated design, I saw what Torbjorn was going for though. The honeycombs that made up the wall were made from single filaments, but he was going for a string of four. That would turn the effects of the previous missiles have the effect of someone throwing a pencil at a brick wall.

I picked up a pair of tweezers, seeing the delicate material that powered and controlled the operations of the shields needed more sensitivity than that of my nimble fingers. I switched a couple things around, the whole design becoming much more simple and something I could understand, there was a spark, and I dropped the tweezers. Setting the tool back down in its spot, I moved on to my workstation, hoping I hadn't messed anything up.

I turned on music, getting to work on my orders for the week. Seven repairs, two custom orders, but first came the repair of Reyes's handheld shotguns. It was similar to Morrison's, since they were both crafted by the American military. Not complex by any means, just different than what I was accustomed to working with. With my hair pulled back in a ponytail, the music became white noise as my fingers began to weave their way through the small parts of a gun. I got lost in the clips and recoil, touching everything up to make sure it didn't lock up like when he was using it on his last mission.

I didn't even notice how long I'd been working, apparently well into the night once again. My face was streaked with grease and sludge from wiping the back of my hand on my face while I'd been so focused on the tiny mechanisms inside the weapon I was improving. I felt gross, in need of a hot shower, and maybe a nice sleep. I wiped the sweat from my brow, returned all my instruments to their proper locations, then headed upstairs and towards my room for the evening. The next work day to come would just be a repeat of the day's events, but the repetition reminded me that I had job security, and that nothing would be changing any time soon. Because of that, I felt at home at Overwatch.

"Morrison," Torbjorn approached, his gruff voice easy to identify as he came in from out of Morrison's sight. "Was Weber in the workshop last night?"

Morrison raised his brow. "I have no idea, why?"

Torbjorn held up the device as I walked in the door, my eyes widened and I slowly began to turn around, beginning to head the other way with my gigantic stack of papers in my arms. Both their eyes fell on me. "Weber!" I heard Torbjorn call my name, making my shoulders drop as I turned with a defeated smile. "Did you fix this?"

I slowly set my pile back onto the corner of my mahogany desk. "If by fix you mean broke, then yes I did."

Torbjorn let out a loud laugh. "Broke!? Not at all!" His chuckle bounced across the high ceilings. "You just solved what I'd been trying to figure out for a year now!"

"It works?"I asked quickly, taking the device. "I saw sparks and figured I'd broken the whole thing."

"I tested it out this morning, it works like a charm." Torbjorn clicked a button on it, and the fibers began weaving their way up into their honeycomb array. I felt a grin come across my face, brushing a few strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You've set us ahead of the game for the next ten years to come with this technology, maybe more." Morrison marvelled only for a second. "If our best engineer couldn't even make something like this, you must be much smarter than you've let on."

I shook my head quickly. "It was Torbjorn's original design, I can't take all the credit-"

"To hell you can't, I wouldn't have come up with this until it was too late and a government building would have been blown to smithereens. Don't tell me you didn't realize government buildings are given the same shields as we are?"

I shook my head, my face turning rosy from my teammates now staring in awe at my revolution in shield security. "No, I didn't realize…"

"Back to work everybody." Morrison took notice of the same thing I did, sending Overwatch back to work. Reyes emerged from his office, hearing the commotion.

"Torbjorn, you finally got the shields up?" Reyes looked to the chief engineer, overlooking me without hesitation.

Morrison interjected quickly. "Weber did this actually, on accident of all things."

I grinned modestly. Reyes looked up, smiling and nodding. "That's good work, Weber. I'll be sure to send this to the labs for mass producing."

"I'll go alert the media." Morrison left my side.

A chill made its way down my spine. "Media? Isn't that a bit unnecessary?" I headed after Morrison.

Morrison looked at him. "If you do a media appearance, more funds will be funnelled into Overwatch. It's proof that we're actually doing something useful here and not wasting people's time and money."

"Of course, that's perfectly reasonable." My voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"It'll be overwhelming at first, but you'll have Reyes and myself right behind you. You'll shake some hands, smile, it'll all be fine."

I took a calming breath, and then nodded towards my superior. "Of course, I just wanted to clarify."

Morrison stopped walking for a moment, meeting my eyes and suddenly smiled. "Good, have your things packed, we're heading to the U.K. in the morning."

I stuck my hand into my jacket pocket, clenching my little fabric scrap until my knuckles went white. I sighed, accepting the fear and trying to stay calm. "Okay, thank you sir." I replied finally.

My superior's mouth curled into a smile. "Call me Jack."

I felt myself relax slowly, tension being released from my shoulders. "Jack, of course."

The next morning, I was on an airship with Reyes, Ana, and Jack, all of us heading towards London for a press conference at noon. We decided to stay there overnight for the banquet that the Prime Minister had thrown in my honor, as a thank you for my work in security. Not wanting to offend we all agreed to stay and enjoy a night of festivities.

I was dressed in my Overwatch fatigues, a pair of black boots, with a pair of long, Overwatch blue pants tucked into my knee high shoes. A jacket looking top matched my pants in color, a black belt going around my waist, the symbol of Overwatch on my left breast pocket, the collar of my jacket going halfway up my neck, my long jacket reaching halfway down my calves, the torso portion of it hugging me in the chilly London weather. My brown hair was brushed neatly, my bangs braided back and portraying my face.

Ana approved my uniform, wearing a slightly similar one. Jack and Reyes both entered, wearing their full military fatigues, both of them also wearing similar expressions. Jack gestured towards the door, looking at me.

"Ready?" Ana asked me, beaming with what looked like pride. Her two year old daughter, Pharah, was in her arms, wearing an identical outfit to her mother.

"Of course."

As I was escorted out to the podium, many cameras flashed, I was immediately berated with questions and things shoved into my face, but I just smiled and kept my eyes forward. I was outside, a screen behind me with the Overwatch symbol on it. The day was a bit cloudy and rainy, but everything seemed peaceful enough.

There was quite the crowd, a couple hundred people at least packing the area in front of a government building. I took a breath, looking towards Ana for confirmation to begin, she gave me a reassuring nod before I greeted the crowd of people.

My long presentation began, and I explained everything Jack had informed me I was able to. I brought up a presentation, demonstrating the strength of the new shields, and the beneficial impacts it would have internationally. At times, I was worried everyone had fallen asleep, but when I peeked out of the corner of my eyes, every single reporter was jotting things down as quickly as they could.

I felt much more comfortable in my own skin the longer I spoke to what felt like no one. What seemed like only a moment later, I felt Reyes touch my arm, looking at me sternly.

"We need to go." He said, beginning to take me off the stage. Ana was already ahead of me, shielding Pharah, Jack was behind me, looking into the rooftops.

That's when I heard it, the whizzing of a bullet as it grazed my ear, missing me by a couple centimeters. My eyes grew wide, and Jack grabbed my forearm, pulling me into the government building. The crowd scattered, running anywhere they could to hide from the gunman. Another shot could be heard, and I saw Jack flinch as the shot went straight into his shoulder. He had taken a bullet for me like it was nothing. Then we were inside the building, being escorted towards the back where our airship was. The hatch opened, then closed, shielding us from the dangers of London.

Everyone was accounted for, my ear was bleeding onto my coat. Jack's hand was bloody from his new wound on his upper arm. No one was seriously injured, thankfully. I looked to Reyes, feeling almost angry that someone would try to ruin such a peaceful gathering.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, feeling Ana hand me a gauze pad to press against my ear. Jack fell back against the couch, clutching his arm. No medical staff was on board, but I had been on enough missions to know how to pull out a bullet. I called for a pair of tweezers, a medical kit, and antiseptic. I was handed my little supply kit, and helped Morrison out of his coat.

"There was a sniper, in the rooftops. Took out a few guards and started firing at you." Reyes explained. Ana was calming down the crying Pharah, who was thankfully safe and sound.

"Why?" I asked, then realizing no one had the answer. "It wasn't exactly a controversial topic, it was just a security matter."

"Someone obviously saw it as an opportunity to take a shot at you." Jack said through gritted teeth, looking at me as I attempted to pull out the bullet fragments.

I looked away, still fuming over the matter. "That is unacceptable…" I yanked out the last of the shattered material from my superior's upper arm.

I doused a gauze pad in antiseptic, cleaning the area around the bloody hole. I began to stitch the area closed, and wrap up Jack's arm. A job well done for being on an airship during takeoff.

"We'll have the cameras look into the matter, we should get everyone home safe before we worry about who's taking the shots." Reyes explained to me.

Jack stood up off the couch, looking at his bloodied jacket. "Do you fix clothing too?" He asked hopefully. I rolled my eyes, but felt an unwanted smile on my face.

I found an evidence bag, and put the bullet inside, handing it to Reyes. It was an open investigation now, but we had no leads, no eyewitnesses, to begin, we had nothing but a blood covered bullet.

I felt the adrenaline from the whole situation at the press conference begin to exit my system, giving me a serene feeling. I wondered if this was really just a person shooting to get attention on how they didn't like my shields. Or to just get attention in general.

I wanted to say the worst was past us, but a direct attack on Overwatch was not going to be ignored. I hoped it was the end, but looking at Morrison's arm, I knew who ever this was wasn't going to be satisfied with a shot to the arm on the person they weren't aiming at.

Once landing on Gibraltar, I felt the unease leave me. Security, safety, those were the two things I felt as soon as I landed and stepped onto the metal landing pad.

That's when I heard the sound of missiles slamming into the protective walls on the perimeter of Gibraltar. All of us turned, only to see Torbjorn taking notes on the effect of our own missiles on our shields. My breath had hitched as soon as I had noticed what seemed like incoming doom for the island, and was only now just beginning to calm.

I felt a hand touch my lower back, and I saw Morrison giving me a stern look. He had something he wanted to talk about, and I knew it would be a closed door conversation. After a brief discussion, he allowed me to change into my casual clothing, and made me agree to meet him in his office by six that evening. I wasn't sure what to make of the approaching meeting, was he going to question me like in an interrogation? I would answer to the best of my abilities of course, but I didn't know if he was angry for having to risk his life for me over a random shooting.

I took a slow, relaxing, breath in. My mind was racing with irrational thoughts, all of which led me to think Morrison was an unreasonable man. From my observations, he was the opposite of unreasonable, Morrison was quite collected and logical. He always acted how he was expected to, respectfully and dutifully towards everyone he came across. No matter how rude the other person may be.

I knocked softly against the tinted windows of Jack Morrison's office, I doubted he could see out with them so dark. But he pressed a button on his desk and the door slid open, allowing me inside. The space was quite large, with multiple floating computer monitors and a desk with organized documents in what looked like their correct spots. There was a gigantic window behind where Morrison typically sat, and the sun was setting on the horizon.

I was offered a box of chinese takeout, I took it, smelling the cheap and greasy imported delicacy from a local shop in Morrison's hometown in Indiana. I saw him eat it on his rougher days, where he worked later than usual or had a day filled with meetings. Morrison didn't drink alcohol, or smoke, he just had a box of takeout.

"You did a very good job at patching up my arm," Morrison said as he passed me a pair of chopsticks. Thankfully, I was also a fan of his favorite food and had ordered it myself many times, only slightly more German-esque. "You continue to impress me with your practical skills."

I dug in, taking a bite from the stir fried noodles I had been given. "Well, the agency I was with before Overwatch certainly taught me a thing or two."

Morrison nodded, not looking me in the eye. "Would it be too much for me to ask about that agency, Clara?"

I paused, setting down the takeout and leaning against the window uncomfortably. He knew more than he was letting on, I'd been to enough meetings with German officials with Mother to know that tone of voice. "Given the circumstances, I don't see why not." I decided.

He set his own meal down and offered the chair across from him to me, a plush loveseat that I could easily see him laying on and filling out papers. I sat in the matching blue one across from his, and he leaned forward, looking at me sternly once again.

"I'm going to be straight with you, I want to know the truth about your past, I've got a sinking feeling that you may have withheld the truth from me the first time we spoke in person."

My breathing became shaky, but I looked him in the eye, which seemed to surprise Jack at my sudden boldness. "You're right, and I apologize for lying. I had no reason to lie, but it is a bit scary, worrying about the judgement and all."

"Well, if it is what you'd like, I can keep this between us." Jack offered.

"No, I'll tell everyone myself when I'm ready. But, I suppose you of all people deserve to know what's going on." I stood, picking back up my takeout and digging through it with my chopsticks. Taking a final breath in, I began. "I was taken to an orphanage in my early teenage years after Eichenwald, my village, was burned to the ground. My brother is somewhere off in India with his wife, he cut connections with my family and my mother disappeared in the chaos. The orphanage was in Neuses, the closest town to Eichenwald. The orphanage was actually a government funded agency, hired to take out political enemies."

Morrison ran his fingers through his thick strands of yellow blonde hair, he looked at the ground, but then I saw the rise and fall of his shoulders, and a deep laughter. I could see that he was trying his damndest to withhold his laughter. I raised my brow, tilting my head, not looking nearly as amused by my story as Jack seemed to be.

"Please, excuse me. I'm not laughing at your situation, by any means Clara. I just, finally made the connections in my head."

I crossed my arms. "What connections?"

Jack looked up, stifling his laughter. "That scrap of fabric I noticed you carry with you, that's part of an American military uniform, right?"

I pulled out the momento, looking at my superior with suddenly defensive eyes that could cut steel. "What about it?"

"I was the one who gave that to you, Clara." Jack smiled, picking up a picture of his desk and handed it to me. Inside the little wooden frame was the picture of an extremely familiar boy, with shimmering blue eyes and the same blonde hair with the skinny frame. "We were the American unit in Germany for training on terrorism, and there happened to be an attack on your village."

I blinked, blindsided by something so painfully obvious. He was the spitting image of his younger self, except much buffer, and with ruggish features. "How long did you suspect something like that?" I shyly handed him the scrap of fabric.

"Since that first time we spoke in the workshop, afterwards, your looks gave you away. I remember your face perfectly, and I suppose I just wasn't expecting you to be at Overwatch, so it took me a bit longer to come to the full realization of who you were."

"Quite the coincidence." I crossed my arms uncomfortably. I eyed my scrap of fabric, wanting to reach out and snatch it from him.

"I agree." Morrison sensed my unease and handed me back my fabric scrap. "I suppose me and you wouldn't be speaking right now if it wasn't for us taking you to that orphanage."

My body took autopilot, nodding to a statement that I'd barely even heard. Jack Morrison, one of the leaders of Overwatch, was the boy who pulled me out of Eichenwald? That seemed almost impossible to me, the fact that out of all the people in the world, the one I never thought of seeing again was right in front of me. Coincidences happen, but one to this scale was very rare for anyone.

I slid my hands into my jean pockets, leaning back against the window which no one could see through. I took another bite from my meal, feeling it beginning to grow cold. Jack looked at me with a surprisingly blank expression, taking a step towards me. "You have grown up into a beautiful woman, I would have never expected that from such a scruffy teenage girl."

"I was a bit boyish before I became apart of the agency, but don't you think you saying that is a bit rude?" I looked at him, straightening my back out.

Morrison took a step back, nodding. "I'm sorry, you're right. That was inappropriate."

"I understand the complement behind your statement." I smiled and accepted his apology, feeling warmth enter my body once again.

I pushed my hair from my eyes, moving away from him and heading to the other side of the room. "Is there anything else you need sir?"

There was a brief headshake, and I grinned warmly at my superior. "Thank you for dinner sir."

"Of course, anytime." I opened the door, then closed it behind me.