A/N: I worked really hard to finish this chapter in a timely manner to make up for the giant hiatus.
Thank you for your comments and support!

Why going to the Overwatch office seemed like a good idea, Jack couldn't quite recall. He'd stormed out without giving his surroundings much thought, gun still trained at the ready. Now that he finally managed to calm his racing heart, he realized what a risk it had been. Civilians. Armed police forces might have seen him. He'd been lucky it was barely dawn.

He swirled a pen between his trembling fingers. He needed some form of protection. Perhaps funding to restart an Overwatch base. Military assistance. Forces.

The ghostly image of Reaper was burned into his mind's eye, and every time he let his guard down, it reappeared in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to man up.

'It's just Gabriel,' he muttered to himself, trying his hardest to actually believe it. He knew what the man could do, what a threat he had become- but what frightened him most were the things he didn't know. They'd trained together, grown together as soldiers. Reaper would know every tactic he threw at him, but Jack was unsure about what Gabriel had become. What he was capable of. He'd ambushed him twice now, left him alive just so he could gloat about it. Once more robbed him of his chance to end this feud for good.

'Defenses, some sort of barrier…' he murmured, flipping open the laptop. Surely, there was something he could do about this? A voice in the back of his mind told him to apologize to Ana later, and he made a mental note not to forget.

A red glitter reflected on his laptop screen. He grabbed his gun, instantly turned. Behind him was the small, lithe form of Lena Oxton. The red glow of her accelerator menacingly highlighted the smirk on her face. She blinked to the side, avoiding his gunfire. The wallpaper blew to bits behind her, leaving dust and pieces of plaster strewn throughout the room.

'Ready or not,' she sing-songed, suddenly blinking in front of him. 'Here we go.'

As sudden as she had appeared, she was gone. Jack took a few deep breaths, listening carefully for any sign of life. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, and he kept his gun raised before him, ready to shoot again. A drop of water fell down and hit his boot with an echoing thwip.

A thick layer of dust covered the concrete floor. Now that he really looked around, he didn't see the bullet marks in the wall in front of him. There was no wallpaper, just bare concrete. Even though the building had been shabby before, now it seemed unfinished. There were angry slogans in red graffiti on the wall to his right. On the ceiling was a large damp stain, occasionally dripping down brownish liquid.

He turned around to find his desk gone, his paperwork gone, his laptop gone. He was alone in a room in a building that had never been finished. When he looked outside, the street down below looked quite ordinary, though there was a newspaper stand he'd never seen before. He moved onto the corridor, and felt the cold breeze streaming in. The hallway to his left had never been finished, old scaffolding still in place, the tarp covering it looking torn and stained. There were deep cracks in the concrete ceiling, running the length of the hallway.

'This is a fucking mess,' Jack cursed, setting down his weapon and carefully finding his way towards the staircase. He opened the door and thanked his training for his extreme reflexes.

Where once the stairwell had been, was now just an empty hole. Some scaffolding had been built, but not nearly high enough for him to climb onto. After a moment's consideration, he closed the door. He didn't really want to, but the scaffolding outside would have to do. That meant he couldn't take his gun – which made him vulnerable. On the other hand, staying here also did nothing for his chances. He needed to find a way back.

Resentment bitter in his mouth, he hid the gun in a corner, covering it with scrap wood from the scaffolding. With any luck, he'd be able to pick it up later – at night perhaps, when carrying the huge thing would not be so obvious.

The wind was a tangible force this high up, whipping around him as soon as he stepped outside. Jack climbed onto the scaffolding, hopped on the edge and swung one story down, carried by the strength in his arms. When he landed, the rickety wood creaked and moaned under him. Splinters of wood shot away, clattering down the metal beams. Thread lightly, he reminded himself. God knows how old this construction is. He carefully climbed down another story, and found an old rope there. Testing it under his boot, pulling to check for breakage, he deemed it sturdy enough. With a heavy grunt he swung the rope over the scaffolding and tied it off. After wrapping a strip of tarp around his palms, he grabbed the rope and climbed down the last two stories. His boots touched the earth with a dull thud, and sweet relief flooded his chest. Morrison was not particularly afraid of heights, but it never hurt to be careful.

'What are you doing there?'

An old man called out to him, tall as a tree and with massive shoulders. A scar ran over his left eye, that had turned white and was probably blind. A twinge of recognition sparked in Jack, but he hesitated on acting on it. What if this too, was a trick?

'I'm a,' he quickly rid his hands of the tarp and tried to act casual, 'I'm a construction worker.' For added effect, he tapped the visor once. Vaguely he hoped the man would think it was a respirator of some sorts. The old man laughed, loud and heartily. Jack knew it for certain then- he definitely knew him. But he hadn't seen Reinhardt since Overwatch and frankly was glad that he remained incognito. The last thing he needed was for more people to get swept up in this madness.

'You are late, son! This office has been abandoned for years.'

'Years?' Morrison questioned. He glanced over the building again. From the outside, it looked even worse. Years of smog and vandalism had done the building no good. The concrete had chipped in places, deep cracks running through all sides. 'What about the offices? The Vienna government?'

'Found a better place. Beautiful building, built by those foreigners- what's the name- oh, Vishkar!' Reinhardt followed his gaze with an apologetic look. 'It's a shame, but their hardlight technology is astounding. The choice was obvious.'

There was a silence between them. Jack wondered if Reinhardt was always this comfortable with strangers. 'I see,' he finally said, unsure what else to say. It would make very little sense to talk about what he had experienced. To this man, this Reinhardt, the building had never even been completed. He hadn't even known Reinhardt to be in Vienna. Perhaps, he hadn't been, before?

Jack's head hurt thinking about this. Reinhardt took it as a cue to start talking again.

'So did you go in there and spray anti-omnic propaganda?'

'I-what?' Morrison stammered, then uprighted his back, 'Do I look like a teenager to you?'

Reinhardt laughed, but then his face turned serious. 'I'd rather you vandalize than that you'd be an actual criminal. You seem like a good lad.' He peered at the visor, trying to see any trace of Morrison's face. 'What were you doing in the concrete dump, son?'

'I lost my way,' Morrison lamely admitted. He didn't want to think about how true that statement really was.

'Well, best you find it, before the enforcers come 'round.'

'I will,' Morrison nodded, looking around to gather his bearings. 'And thank you, old friend.'

'I'm not thát old!' Reinhardt bellowed, laughing, and slapped him on the back with a meaty hand. 'Stay on the right path!' He waved as he walked away, leaving Morrison more than a little dazed. He decided to walk the opposite direction of where Reinhardt had gone, towards the main street.

A slender omnic manned the newspaper stand. She had been equipped with a female voice module, which gave her a pleasant, motherly tone.

' Breaking news!' she called out, 'Akande Ogundimu escapes prison! Read all about it!'

Morrison's brow furrowed. More Talon activity. Just what he needed. Perhaps he could get some information, and maybe a map. He needed to find his way back to the government, to Overwatch.

When he approached the stand, the machine greeted him with practiced ease. 'Good day, sir! Newspaper?'

'Ah, yes, please,' Morrison stammered, feeling his pockets. To his luck, he found a credit card stashed away, glad he hadn't taken all of his belongings out of his pockets yet. It was strange, interacting with a machine this way. He gave his card to the machine and she carefully scanned it. Then she smoothly reached for a stack of portable projectors, without having to look where they were. In the same fluid movement, she gave one to him, his credit card carefully balanced on top.

'Do you also sell maps?' he asked, tentatively. The omnic cocked her head.

'Maps?'

'Yes, to – get around?'

'I can install a navigation module on your paper, sir. It's only a minor extra charge. Everything is hardlight nowadays!'Her voice was surprisingly animated for a machine. When she spoke, he could almost hear a friendly enthusiasm. 'But if it's somewhere specific you need to be, I can give you directions?'

'Ah, well, city hall?' Morrison asked tentatively. 'I'm looking for Overwatch HQ..'

The omnic stiffened. She hesitated a few moments before she spoke, 'You won't find anything like that around here, sir.' Then, as she spotted another customer, she greeted him rather bluntly, 'Good day.'

'I'll take a newspaper too,' a young woman asked next to him, brown hair stuffed under a flat cap, throwing a credit chip on the counter. The woman took the projector, tipped her hat to the omnic and turned. As she walked by, Morrison saw a flash of teeth in a wicked grin. Brown eyes dulled, narrowed dangerously. A whisper sending chills down his spine, 'hello, Jack.'

'Oxton!' He roared, and charged at her. Before his fist could make contact with her skin, there was a red-tinted flash, and in a blink, she was gone.

.

Lena effortlessly fell into another timeline. She counted the amount of steps it took to get back to her own, as she skipped through the web of possibilities. There was a certain enjoyment in seeing the world evolve, in seeing the butterfly effect play out in different ways.

She scoured around, looking for another string to pull, someone to switch Jack's places with next. She'd let him live all these miserable lives until he'd beg her for mercy. And then she wouldn't stop. Oh no.

She fell through into another timeline, floating, not exactly materialized but ghostly enough to take in her surroundings. A Talon base, beautifully expanded, carefully kept. In this universe, Talon had already won. She recounted her steps. Quite a long way from home.

She fell through again. It was a pleasant kind of feeling, like being caressed with a layer of silk. The same Talon base. Busier, this time. Talon mercenaries crawling over the transport platform.

She went inside, unseen, only fully materializing in the empty corridor. She felt a strange sort of nervous excitement, not really overwhelming, but her heart was beating ever so slightly faster. One more? Maybe just one step further?

The glow on her chest shone red and she prepared to fall into the next layer. The accelerator hummed, the light almost blinding her. She ground her teeth, gave the machine another go, with more vigor this time. The accelerator roared, and she felt the familiar feeling of the border being crossed. However this time, it was like the border was thick, gooey. The substance was sticky and refused to let her through- until it snapped and she fell, hard. Materialized completely, she scraped her knees on the concrete floor of the Talon base.

'Agent Slipstream!' a hard voice behind her barked. Lena shot up, turned and aimed her guns. She had to look up to see the man's face, his dark skin marked with white warpaint. On his right arm, a golden gauntlet shone. She recognized the artifact, and then the face, and decided that lowering her guns right away would be a very good idea. The man did not seem intimidated by her or her weapons in the slightest, instead he lowered his voice and growled, 'Transport platform. Now.'

'Yes, sir!' Lena said, standing at attention. She immediately started moving, briskly walking past him, towards safety. Her chronal accelerator's light had dimmed slightly, indicating that it was still charging. Bollocks.

Lena quickly calculated her options. She could hide somewhere, wait for her accelerator to recharge, and get the hell out of here- which by all means would be the best option. Yet a thought kept gnawing at her mind, telling her to stay, to investigate. The Talon base seemed so similar to the others, in the different timelines, so what made this one special? Why hadn't the border let her through like the others?

She made her way up the stairs, and hid behind some crates. She could see part of the platform from this corner, and keep an eye on the corridor. Heavy footsteps had her ducking away, out of sight. She held her breath as she heard Reaper's dark voice rasp just on the other side of the crates.

'Slipstream not here yet?'

'Haven't seen her,' Sombra chirped, 'you?'

'Don't look at me,' a third voice answered, laced with amusement, French accent thick on her tongue, 'I had nothing to do with it.'

Lena felt her heart stop. That voice. Suddenly her heart rushed in her throat like it hadn't done in months, a feeling that was ice cold and red hot at the same time spreading down her neck. It couldn't be, could it? Was it possible?

She could jump out of cover. Casually walk around, like she'd meant to do so all along. She could greet her, like- like nothing had happened-

'Sorry for the delay!' Light, running steps coming closer. An eerily familiar voice. 'Ran into Doomfist- he's a little nutty, don't you think? Said it was my second warning.'

'Perhaps he was being friendly? If we're counting all of your warnings, you would have more than two, amiga.'

'Look who's talking!'

Lena felt cold fear close into her heart, replacing whatever twisted elation there had been. This was wrong- this was so utterly wrong. She wasn't supposed to run into herself in any other timeline. There were not supposed to be any others. There had never been any others.

Suddenly she felt nauseous, guilty like a child that knows it's doing something it's not supposed to. Her accelerator glowed once more, ready to go. Lena sank through her knees, rested her forehead against the cool metal crate. She needed to go, but she couldn't. Not with her so close by.

'Quit your squabbling,' Reaper growled, 'we have work to do.'

'Are you ready to leave, Lena?' Widowmaker asked, her voice soft. So silky. So cherished. No, Lena wanted to answer, I want to stay a little longer. I want to hear you speak to me again. I want to make up for all the suffering I caused you. Lena's face twisted in grief, but she had no more tears to shed.

'I was born ready!' Other Lena cheered. Slipstream's accelerator hummed, and with a roar of its engine, she fell back into time.

.

Sombra had fifteen different holoscreens in front of her, switching them out as she pleased, finding information in every nook and cranny, whether it was protected or unprotected. She twirled in her chair, gleefully loading a virus onto the factory's main servers. Soon, all the profits would be transferred directly to her untraceable account in Switzerland. A little extra cash never hurt anyone.

A loud thump made her look over her shoulder. Lena had appeared on Sombra's bed, falling rather like a limp doll, her arm hanging off the side. Sombra stared at her with wide eyes for a couple of seconds, before she groaned, and Sombra let out a sigh of relief.

'Dios mio, I thought you were dead for a second,' she said, rising from her chair to come closer to Lena. 'Are you alright? You're usually more graceful about all this.'

'I feel like shit,' Lena moaned into the mattress. 'I think I'm going to be sick.'

'Please go be sick in your own room, okay, chica?' Sombra pulled her upright, so that she sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling down. When Lena's ashen face came into view, Sombra halted her movement, supporting her with her palm flat on her chest. 'Damn, Tracer. What have you done?'

'I went too far, I think.'

A second of silence passed where Sombra struggled very hard not to say any variant of "I told you so". Finally, after closing her eyes and rubbing her temples in frustration, she settled for, 'what makes you say that?'

'She was there,' Lena whimpered, a single tear rolling down her cheek. 'That's why I was not supposed to be there.'

'Wait- what are you on about?' Sombra discreetly clicked a recording device, then turned to Lena, and reassuringly grabbed her hands. 'Explain.'

'I found a timeline where she survived, Sombra.' Lena resolutely wiped the tear from her cheek with her sleeve. 'But there was another me there. No- there was a Lena there.'

'Dios mio.'

'Yeah, you can say that again.'

'Did you change anything?' Sombra asked, slightly nervous. Lena shook her head.

'I don't think so.'

'I don't want to be mean, but "I don't think so" is not very reassuring,' Sombra pursed her lips. 'Did anyone see you?'

Lena slowly nodded. 'Yes. Doomfist. But he thought I was her.'

'Oh my god.' Sombra said, averting her gaze. She bit her long, purple nails as she thought. Then she suddenly stood up. 'If anything had changed, we would know by now, yes?'

'I guess so,' Lena shrugged, then closed her eyes once more. 'I heard her voice, Sombra. She was talking to me. Well, not to me. But it felt like she was.' Lena expected another quip, but nothing came. Instead, Sombra clasped her hands together, her head turned away to hide her face.

'Did she look, well, normal?' She asked, and her shoulders sagged a little bit. For the first time, Lena could see through the sarcasm and saw a glitter of genuine grief there.

'I don't know,' Lena shook her head, 'I couldn't see her.'

'And I was there too?' Sombra then asked, shaking the vulnerability out of her stance and replacing it with determination. She pulled up a holoscreen, and touched it with one purple nail, temporarily halting the progress on the screen. Lena just shrugged and nodded.

Sombra narrowed her eyes in thought, nodding slowly. Then she quickly typed something on the screen, before making it disappear with a wave of her hand.

'You really need some rest. Let me take you to your room.'

'My cell,' Lena corrected her. Sombra smiled.

'Nothing gets past you, eh Slipstream?' She gently grabbed her hand to lead her away. 'Come on. You're going to get some sleep, I have work to do.'