Title: Against the rules
Chapter 07: Tracer's past
AN: I don't usually do these but oh well. reviews are greatly appreciated, motivates me to more for you guys. I'm happy to answer any questions unless they include revealing the rest of the story because then I would have to kill you... just kidding!... or was I???????? Illuminati confirmed.
/.\
Widowmaker's POV
"Why did you call him Eric?" I ask, as Eric sits between the two of us on the couch, accepting strokes from both me and Tracer.
"I called him Eric Brown Wright Oxton. Eric Brown was the most famous British pilot, known for riding the most planes and being an excellent author. The Wright brothers are the ones usually credited for the first successful airplane and Oxton is my last name." she finishes with a scratch on Eric's jaw which caused him in turn to lean towards her.
"I guess you're pretty passionate about planes then. Why didn't you become a pilot?" I asked, purposefully stroking Eric in a place where me and Tracer will touch hands.
"I-uh… I was a pilot." She mumbles as she looks up at Eric's face, him towering over us both because we're sat down.
"Why did you stop?" I asked, getting completely intrigued in Tracers story.
"There was an accident. It's why I have to be around my anchor. It's a long story." She says sitting back into the seat of the sofa. Obviously sensing this as a time to move, Eric shot up and dashed into the kitchen. The loud slobbering of water suggests that the hunk of dog was thirsty.
I slide closer to Tracer, wrapping my arm around her shoulders so she can rest on me. "I have the rest of the week to listen." I mutter softly, kissing her jaw as gentle as I can.
I hear and feel her sigh heavily before she grips my hand in her own and starts to retell her tail.
"I was the youngest ever pilot for the RAF. You could say it was a skill I had but I always wanted to be a pilot. And no matter what came up to stop me I kicked it down and carried on. My friends called me stubborn but I called it determination.
As soon as I got my licence I was the happiest pilot in the world, I dreamed of being a hero and saving people. All I wanted was to be like my mum, one of the best women pilots in all of history.
A offer came up, it was from Overwatch. They wanted me to test pilot one of their newest planes the slipstream. It was revolutionary, it could change time itself it goes so fast.
Of course my ambitious ass wanted to do it, I was barely an adult and told that I could work for Overwatch and test a life changing aircraft. I guess it was life changing, but for all the wrong reasons.
On the first test run, things started to go wrong. Some malfunction in the equipment I think but all I saw was a red light that shouldn't be lighting up.
My memory is hazy but all I felt was my body being ripped in every direction. I couldn't control it. I would be in different parts of time at the same time.
They told me I spent months in there. But it felt like a lifetime. Winston helped pull me out, creating my anchor and Mercy helped me get through the trauma.
My anchor messes up electrical stuff. Only certain things work around it. And they have to be made by Winston to work around it. I'll never fly a plane again. I've come to terms with that.
Winston knew how much flying meant to me, that's why he made the harness so I could control my own time and sometimes others, that's what happens when I blink or recall. It's different to flying but it kept me in the fight, so I'm content."
To say I'm shocked would be an understatement. Tracer has been through so much hardship and she's still a positive strong woman that doesn't back down.
"What happens if it breaks?" I ask as a whisper, already getting an idea of what would happen.
"I'd get lost again. They'd have to rebuild the anchor if they even notice I'm gone. My particles only stay in place when around an anchor. If I go out of proximity, I'll get dragged back to it. If there's not one, I'll stay stuck in time." I look down to see a couple of unshed tears.
"Hey, Chérie, it's okay." I whisper as I pull her face up to my own in a small but loving kiss. I linger my lips over hers for a moment after the kiss is over, savouring their softness.
"Winston is running out of recourses to fix it. If it comes close to breaking again… I-I-" she starts but ends up letting out a body wracking sob instead of more words.
Wrapping my arms firmly around her, I hold her hot body to my own. "Hush Chérie… we'll figure it out. I promise you. I won't let you get hurt." I whisper into her ear as I cuddle her tight, making sure she knows that she's safe in my arms.
I feel her head weakly nod inside of my embrace and I press my lips to her hot forehead. I won't let anything hurt her. Never.
/.\
Tracer ended up with her head in my lap as she's laid down, my fingers running through the soft locks on her head. Her brown eyes were just looking up at me and I was looking down at her.
I would happily live like this if it meant Tracer would be here with me every moment of the rest of our lives. One of my hands traces down her face, a finger gliding down her nose and along her lips.
I lean down to initiate a kiss before I hear a loud grumble coming from a certain energetic girl. I raise my eyebrow at her as her face goes bright red before she sits up and picks up her phone.
"What do you want to order in love?" She asks trying to hide the red hue on her face.
"Non. I will cook for you. That merde is bad for you." I say as I lean over and capture her cheek with my lips.
"You can't cook for me." She says back as she turns her head to look at me.
"And why not Chérie?" I ask, raising my eyebrow in question. She places her phone on the table making me think I'm victorious for a moment.
"I have no fresh food in." She replies as she leans back on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest.
"Are you telling me you live off of that unhealthy stuff?" I slide closer to her, looping my arm around her shoulders as she shrugs.
"I'm hardly in the apartment long enough to keep food in. I always have to go on a mission or do some other job to keep this place slightly functional for me and Eric."
"Then you need to go to the shop. You will not live off that crap while I'm here." I growl softly, trying to sound a little more convincing. I feel the smaller girl shiver slightly at my French purr and know I've won this battle.
I grab a pen and paper and jot down ingredients to one of my favorite recipes, I feel Tracer's body stand from the sofa as she retrieves her jacket and shoes.
I stand up as she lugs on her harness, strapping herself into this time zone. Once she finishes, she goes to take the sheet of paper and I pull it away before pulling her to me with my free hand.
I kiss both of her cheeks in a gesture that is used to say Au revoir and kiss her lips afterwards. When I pull away I grab my bank card out of my pocket and pass it her along with the sheet of paper.
Before she could protest I place my finger to her eager lips. "It's Talons money. Go crazy beau." I mutter before kissing her lips one last time.
She smiles before blinking off and out of the door. I roll my eyes but smile anyway. Show off.
/.\
Holding two bowls of pasta with a creamy sauce, I walk into the living room area of Tracer's apartment. It was easy to see the unusually still frame of the young brunette.
She was sat upright on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees and in her hands was a book. Her eyes traced the parchment like it would give her the answer to everything her entire being engrossed in the novel.
It must've been a good book to have the attention of the young pilot. As I step closer and place the bowls on the table, I soon see the importance of the used book.
"I didn't know Eric Brown wrote books." I say, taking a seat next to the Brit as she finishes her page, her eyes and chest being the only things moving.
She slots her bookmark into the fairly thick book and drops it onto the coffee table next to the bowl before picking that up and placing it in her lap.
I thought she wasn't going to answer me when she didn't reply for so long but suddenly said.
"Yeah, he wrote books about his experiences in different planes. It makes me feel like I'm actually there, y'know?" She says, probably not expecting an answer to the question as the picks up some strands of pasta in her fork.
"I understand Chèrie." I give her a firm kiss to her temple then leans forward to retrieve my own bowl.
"Fucking hell Widow. This is amazing." I hear Tracer moan at my side causing my lip to curl up in a smirk as I sit back and take my own fork full to my mouth.
"It's something I was taught when I was younger. I've added my own touch over the years but it's basically the same." I explain as Tracer moves close to me, snuggling up to my side.
The movement made me happy as I slid my hand around the younger girl as we ate, welcoming the silence as no words could emphasise how we felt in this very moment.
/.\
Tracer fell asleep quickly. Maybe a little too quickly.
Her smaller body leans against me with all of her weight but it didn't bother me because she's as light as a feather, in her hands was the half eaten pasta I made for us and her head was snuggled against my shoulder.
Only this woman could fall asleep this quickly. I took the bowl out of her relaxed hands and put it on the table along with my own, trying not to shift the sleeping beauty too much to wake her.
Satisfied that she is completely asleep and everything is out of the way, I pick up the light Brit, carrying her effortlessly in a bridle position as I look around the apartment. There was only one room I haven't been in and I assume it is her bedroom.
I walk towards the room, trying to not sway or bump around too much so she doesn't wake up.
Luckily, the door was open a crack, so I wouldn't need to open it with my hands which would have definitely woken up my world.
I used my hip to push the door open completely, revealing what must be Tracer's room.
It has a double bed against the far wall in the middle of the room, most of one wall was covered in a bookshelf which held plenty of novels to keep a fandom happy, there was also a desk with a couple of papers scattered on it with a rolling chair in front of it. There was another door which wasn't open which I suspect is a bathroom.
I walk to the closest side of the bed to the door and lay Tracer on the bed, pulling the sheets from under her before placing her down.
I slowly pull her belt and shoes, making sure not to touch the soles of her feet or anywhere sensitive that would wake the cute Brit.
Pulling the cover over the silent woman, I slowly retreat back into the main part of the apartment, trying not to make a noise.
I clear up the mess I made during the cooking and some stuff that was out of order before I arrived, making sure it was perfect as the girl currently asleep in the other room.
After cleaning up the apartment, I go back into the bedroom and slide my shoes off before getting in bed next to the brunette, encapsulating her in my secure arms.
I know it sounds stupid, but I think this woman is changing who I am. I would have never got into the same bed as anyone before I met her. I would have only cooked for myself too, unless I was poisoning them.
Maybe she could be good for my damaged heart.
Maybe she's the beauty to my beast.