Lena remained sat on the ground, staring at the fallen mech. Volts of electricity sparked sporadically throughout it, but it was of no doubt that it was no longer a threat. Still, she kept her eye on it, afraid it might rise again.

She vaguely picked up on the blonde man shouting orders to the helicopter pilot before descending down a rope, and was promptly followed by the russet haired man. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blue-armored man approach her and past her to Winston's side, where he placed two fingers on his neck.

"Out cold," he said, "but he'll live."

The other man followed closely behind, but stopped in front of Lena and knelt down. He fished a red checkered handkerchief out of his jeans and offered it to her. "That thing won't hurt you anymore."

She looked up at him and wordlessly took the handkerchief, unsure of what to do with it. He gently took it from her and wiped at her eyes and cheeks. She didn't realize she was crying.

"Lena Oxton?" the blonde man asked, moving in front of her and lowering himself to get a better look at her face. "Are you the Slipstream pilot?"

At this, Lena clumsily got to her feet, becoming more aware of herself. "Commander Morrison! Yes, sir! Lena Oxton, survivor of the Slipstream incident," she gushed.

"Call me Jack, kid." He smiled. "Everyone does. Well, except the grunts. So please, at ease. You did a fine job defending the watch point, pilot."

"I only did what I had to, sir."

He laughed. "I doubt it. Knowing how Winston here is, I'm willing to bet you volunteered yourself. And I appreciate that." Jack walked over to the service rifle Lena used, now lying across the floor, and picked it up. "This sure brings back memories," he said fondly, looking the weapon over. "I did three tours with her. Never failed once, would you believe it?"

"It belonged to you?" Lena breathed, surprised. "I didn't know."

"Not anymore, though." He nudged the blue-plated energy rifle by his side. "Got a new issue, so I told Winston he could keep it. Still though, I'm impressed. It looks like it did from the day I first held it into battle."

The commander looked to the adjacent doorways. "Are there anymore hostiles left in the facility?"

"No, sir. Or at least, I don't think so," she replied.

"You will drop the formalities, that's an order," he said firmly, but kindly.

"Yes si—Yes."

He sighed. "After all, I owe you an apology, Miss Oxton."

Lena was taken aback. "What?"

"I was part of the conference that agreed to your confinement within the facility on grounds of prototype testing, the one you have on your chest now." He gestured to it. "Though I wasn't particularly cozy with the idea, I decided it was for the best. But it's still no excuse to denying you contact with anyone else on the outside, especially when your survival is left as a mystery. So I am sorry."

"Oh, no!" She backed up, waving her hands. "No big! I would've really been gone if it weren't for all of you, especially Winston! Please, don't apologize. Besides, I really like this pla—"

"Now that, is a straight up lie." The hoarse voice came from the prone figure of the great ape beside them, which at that moment started to pick himself up, clutching his head. "Ouch. That's going to leave a mark."

"Winston!" Lena forgot herself and jumped on him, hugging his arm. "You're okay!"

"Less okay, less okay!" he hollered, "injured arm!"

"Sorry!"

He straightened his glasses which had been knocked askew during his fall. "It's going to take more than that to get rid of me. But where are my manners?" He turned to the other two. "It's a pleasure to see you back at the watch point, Jack. Albeit under… unfavorable circumstances. And you! You must be Jesse, Jesse McCree!"

The man tipped his hat. "Howdy." He turned to Jack. "You didn't tell me y'all had a talking monk—"

"Scientist!"

He gave the scientist a strange look. "Uh… huh."

An awkward silence followed. After a moment, Winston cleared his throat and moved over to the drone, which had since stopped sparking electricity. "Model B-28," he said, more to himself, "built and deployed for crowd control, discontinued years ago for brutality controversies. And a modification to the standard firearms made to fire nine-millimeters."

"To what?" asked Morrison.

"Five-point-five-six by forty-five millimeter, intermediate NATO," he replied grimly, studying the drone. "This is worrying. Why and how did they come here, armed with this kind of firepower?" Winston pulled out his console, now battered and worse for wear, and plugged a cable into the drone connecting the two. "It might take a while to crack the encryption on the drones, but I think I should be able to… ah. Here it is." He tapped a few buttons on the little device. "Jammed communications, scan immunity, frequency evasion, and on top of that, looking at the navigation algorithm, they knew exactly how to move in response to our imaging satellite, as though they knew exactly where it was to follow the clouds to avoid it!"

"Sounds like you have a traitor in your ranks," remarked McCree.

"Don't forget; you're one of us now," responded the soldier, "this is as much your problem as it is ours."

McCree laughed. "Don't let Reyes hear you saying that. He's sure been down in the dumps lately."

Winston picked up one of the drones and slung it across his shoulder. "I'm bringing this to the command center for further analysis. I expect to crack the encryption in a couple of hours." He hesitated. "And as much as I hate to admit it, Mister McCree—"

"McCree is fine."

"…McCree here might have a point." The ape scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "The only reason why they managed to get into the facility in the first place was because they had a backdoor of some kind for the unique security measures on the rock." He sighed. "More sleepless nights, but at least there's something to do. Lena, would you please escort our guests to the mess hall? And you must be starving as well."

"What about you?" asked Lena.

Winston grew visibly uncomfortable. "Well, I've already had a breakfast… or two."

"We're cutting on the peanut butter, Winston."

"Lena!" cried the ape, scandalized. "You would suggest—"

"Yes, I would." She turned to the others. "Follow me, the mess hall's by the—"

"Winston! Lena!"

The party turned in unison, facing the south doorway. There, leaning against the doorframe and gasping for air, was the doctor. She looked more exhausted than she did earlier that day, but despite this, her face exhibited a great worry and distress. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Where…" Mercy stared at the two in question she called, then slowly moved her gaze to the soldier and bounty hunter, then to the disarray they stood in. A seagull flew in through the hole in the roof, circled the room cawing loudly for a few moments before making a casual landing on the doctor's head.

"Wha…" She finally looked above her to the sundered skylight from whence the bird came, the bird adjusting itself so it didn't fall off. "What in the world happened here?"

"Angela!" exclaimed Winston, "I thought you were still in the operating theater."

"I was," Mercy said, vaguely aware of the bird perched on top of her head, which ruffled its feathers with its beak. "When I tried to reach you on the intercoms, there was no response. None of the engineers I contacted could reach you either, and there was no indication pointing to where you might be. I abandoned my patient to find the command center empty and you and Lena missing, so answer me this; what happened here?"

"Ah… well… you see." Winston kept his eyes on the seagull, which started to pick at the stray strands of hair on the her head. He quickly summarized the sequence of events that led to the four of them standing beside a fallen platform, downplaying the danger they were in while fighting off the drones.

The doctor listened in silence and kept it for several moments after Winston was done, closing her eyes. "So not only did you fail to give me an update on the situation," she said, anger and annoyance bleeding into her voice, "you put yourself in a dangerous position where you might have be severely injured, or killed." She took notice of the firearm Lena held to her side. "On top of giving Lena a weapon, and bringing her along with you."

The pilot raised her hands. "Doctor Ziegler, I asked to come. I wanted to help protect this place."

"And you allowed her," the doctor said quietly.

Winston looked off to the side. He had nothing to say for himself. If he was aware of danger they would be getting into, he never would have considered it.

But he also couldn't deny that he would have been killed if Lena wasn't there, though he wasn't going to tell Mercy that.

The fraught silence dragged on, an aura of bitterness and disappointment radiating throughout the room from under the seagull's bottom.

Morrison cleared his throat. "Angela, Miss Oxton went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure this facility and its inhabitants were kept safe. She refused to stand idle and instead took up arms to defend it. What would you have done, if you were faced with the same decision under the same circumstances?"

Angela opened her mouth to answer… and closed it. She screwed up her face in thought for a few moments before slumping her shoulders in surrender.

The soldier nodded. "Exactly. You would have done the same. Angela, I just came back from a mission in south-east Asia. Would you like to know what I saw? Thief and violence in the middle of the streets in broad daylight. In a crippling silence. No one stood up to help, to put an end to the madness. Everyone shut their windows and sat in their corners and counted ants. It's not wrong to want to preserve your life, but it takes a hero to put their life before others." He turned to the pilot and smiled proudly down at her. "She did what she felt she had to do, without being asked to and without hesitation. There has been a real shortage of people like her lately, and the world could always use more heroes."

The doctor looked at each of the four in turn, wondering how to press her case. A glimmer of a tear was visible on the corner of Lena's eye. She came to a rest on McCree.

"Hey, don't look at me." He shrugged. "I know a great deal of men with less guts than she has. You should've seen the look in her eye when she was gunnin' them down and when she had a gun pressed to 'er head."

Mercy silently mouthed his last few words.

"Be that as it may," Winston quickly said, "I know I should have radioed in to let you know what was going on, but with all the confusion, it's hard to keep track of anything. Not that it's an excuse."

She sighed. "Alright, you win. But you will never leave me in the dark again, you understand?"

Winston smiled. "That's a promise, doctor. You can head off, Lena. I'll just get back to—"

"And where do you think you're going?" interrupted Mercy.

The ape turned to her, confused. "Uh…"

"Don't think I didn't see your arm, Winston. And you, Lena. Both of you are in need of immediate medical attention."

"It's just a scratch—" Lena cut herself short at the look in the doctor's eye. The bird cawed at her, almost mockingly. It seemed to have found a comfortable spot to rest on the doctor's head.

Morrison rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, we know which way it is. Look for me after you're done. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

He smiled at the questioning glance of the pilot, and headed for the north passageway along with McCree.

"Well, come on then. The sooner we have you two looked at, the better." Mercy turned back towards where she came.

Winston couldn't ignore it any longer. "Angela, you are aware of the bird that's made a nest of your hair, right?"

"Oh? Brandon here? Of course." She reached up and tenderly patted the seagull. "I've grown rather fond of him in the last few minutes. Perhaps I will keep him."

"She named it," whispered Tracer to herself in disbelief as they followed Mercy back to the operating theater.

Author Notes:

Apologies that updates have been less frequent as of late. It's hard to get into the mood for writing with me looking for ways to procrastinate in light of my imminent exams. Updates will come more often afterwards, I hope. Also, RIP Genji on PTR. FeelsBadMan. F.