Airspace above Numbani, the day of Devaraja Ramachandran's public speech. Cloaked Overwatch shuttle #351
Lena was walking up and down the length of the shuttle at a fast pace. Those last ten minutes before the landing were always the worst. In that time she would get nervous, insecure, and generally uncomfortable. But only in those last few minutes before a mission. It was a stupid habit, and one she couldn't get rid of. No matter how good Tracer felt she prepared, or how relaxed she was during the hour long flight, nervousness always got the better of her in the end.
She pressed her phone to her ear, currently talking to her best friend. Angela had been invited to an international medical conference in Zürich, her hometown. Originally she didn't think she could go, because of her responsibilities at the Watchpoint, but then Winston said that they might need a lot of medical supplies soon. He asked Mercy to make some new friends there... which the doctor was more than happy to do, not only because it was her hometown, but also because it had been years since she had been to such a conference.
"How is it going, Angela? Everything alright?" Tracer asked.
"Absolutely" Angela replied, the excitement clearly audible in her voice. "It's really amazing here! So many smart people. I haven't talked so much in years! It's wonderful! I met Doctor Müller, er hat ein Gerät erfunden, mit dem man-" she started gushing in her mother tongue, but was harshly interrupted by Tracer. She didn't mean to be mean or something, but if Lena wouldn't have stopped her best friend right there, she would have continued forever.
"Luv, I don't speak German. What are you talking about?" Lena smiled softly, happy that her best friend was enjoying herself. It was something the blonde doctor did way too seldom. Even though Tracer didn't fully understand how one could enjoy a medical conference so much, she was content that Mercy apparently did.
"Sorry, Süße. It's just so exciting!"
"I noticed" Tracer replied dryly.
"I said, Doctor Müller invented a device, which allows partial subdermal tissue reconstruction"
"Angela, please pretend you talk to some ex-military fighter pilot. In fact, don't pretend..."
"I'm so sorry!" Angela apologized and Lena could actually hear how her best friend turned red. "He invented something to heal internal injuries without having to cut the patient open" she explained.
"So kind of like your Caduceus Staff?"
"It is similar, though he doesn't require the nano-technology. It is slower and less efficient, but also way cheaper"
"I see" Tracer replied in a good mood, when someone tapped on her back. She peeked over her shoulder to see Morrison standing behind her, gesturing toward his wrist, as if wearing a watch.
"Sorry, luv. Gotta go save the world once again." Tracer jested.
"Of course. Be careful out there."
"Where would the fun be in that?" Lena replied with a dry laugh before she ended the connection.
"ETA in two minutes, Oxton. Here are the last updates from Athena" Morrison said, handing Lena a file with some last minute information the Overwatch AI managed to gather.
"So, rooftops, huh?" Lena asked, letting a hand run through her thick brown hair. "A sniper then," she mused absent minded. "Do you think they'll send Amé...errrr" Tracer quickly faked an embarrassed cough. Damn, she almost fucked that up. She really needed to watch her tongue. "...Widowmaker, like the last time?"
Morrison rose a suspicious eyebrow, but wasn't quite sure what this had been about. It did seem fake, but maybe Oxton really just choked. It wasn't that important. "Well, it would make sense. Athena calculated the major is a high priority target, so I don't see why Talon wouldn't send their best." he said, when the shuttle made rough contact with the ground of an abandoned parking-lot a few kilometers away from the place Devaraja Ramachandran would soon speak to the public.
"I need to drop the cloak in order to open the door, so be quick" the voice of the pilot announced over the speaker.
"Good luck, Oxton" Morrison said, pressing a button next to the hatch causing it to slowly glide to the ground.
"There is no need for luck, Morrison. I have ammo" she replied with a cheeky wink before Lena blinked away, leaving a sighing Soldier 76 behind. That girl would sooner or later get herself killed.
The door wasn't yet fully closed, but the shuttle already in the air, when Morrison's phone rang loudly. Rolling his eyes he, grabbed at his device, accepting the call.
"Yes?" he asked, knowing exactly who he was talking to.
"You have to do something" the deep voice, which could only belong to Reaper on the other end of the line, replied. He didn't waste any time and cut straight to the chase just as always.
"Alright, what do you need?"
"The big boss has placed a hit on Devaraja Ramachandran, the major of Numbani. I only now learned it is one of the most important targets for Talon right now and part of his great master plan. We have Widowmaker on site, but she had some trouble keeping her flawless record as of recently. You know why. See to it that the hit happens. The major has to die" Reaper growled.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Morrison replied in a whispered hiss. "I dropped Tracer off literally a minute ago to prevent this. You haven't forgotten why I keep sending her to these missions, have you?"
"I haven't. But that makes it even more important that you take care of this. I take it you are in Numbani?" Reaper asked.
"No, I dropped her off in Paris, where do you think I am?" Morrison was all tense whenever he was talking to his former best friend about these kind of affairs. What he was doing... No, what they were doing was so unbelievably dangerous sometimes Morrison forgot what it was they were fighting for.
It had to be done.
This wasn't Reaper's fault; he did what he could, just as Jack did. They gave it their all, each and every day. With a heavy sigh, Morrison forced himself to calm down a little bit. No need to give Reyes crap. "Jesus Christ, couldn't you have called ten minutes earlier? You have the worst timing, brother"
There was a deep growl on the other end of the line. Morrison was hardly the only one whose nerves were raw. "What exactly is your illusion of how my work here looks like? It's not like I hang on the phone all day. This is the first opportunity to call I got."
"Alright, alright. I get it. Still, I am not equipped for what you have in mind. There was my own little mission going on before you sprung that new job on me."
"Not anymore. I arranged a care-packet to be dropped off at a safe location. I'll send you the coordinates. Ramachandran has to die today or all our efforts will be in vain." Reaper said, his voice urging.
"I understand" Morrison replied. "Consider it done." He added, before terminating the communication.
"Pilot! New orders: turn that bird around and head for the following coordinates!"
"Yes, Sir!"
-/-
The red crosshair was perfectly in the middle of Devaraja Ramachandran's deep green eyes, while he was standing behind a noble lectern with Numbani's coat of arms on its front side. He was giving his speech from a richly decorated wooden stage in front of a museum, which had a large public square before it. Numerous different officials were sitting behind the major, who was currently talking about the various different obstacles which had to be overcome in human-omnic relationships. A surprisingly large crowd of people and omnics had gathered in the evening sun to hear their major talk. The Indian man was of stumpy stature, with a very short neck and large ears. His arms were disproportionally longer than the rest of his corpulent body, and he was sweating heavily. From time to time he reached into his pockets to retrieve a white silk napkin and dapple the heavy beads of sweat off his forehead. It helped his overall attractiveness little to nothing.
To put it in simple terms, Numbani's major was one ugly motherfucker. Widowmaker sighed, adjusting her grip of her custom made sniper rifle, concentrating on her target. Her time to strike hadn't come yet; the major was still moving too much. Despite being confident that she could easily connect the shot, Widowmaker didn't take any chances. She had time. Lots of it. And she was very patient. So in the meantime, the gorgeous assassin had little choice but to wait and listen to what the major had to say.
He might have been ugly beyond reasonable comparison, but he sure as hell could talk like no one else, Widowmaker had to admit this much. His speech was barely five minutes long and she actually noticed she was pretty interested in what the major had to say. He was by no means a stupid man. What he lacked in appeal, he made more than up with his wits.
Which was a rare trait, but still one which wouldn't help him one bit.
Widowmaker would squeeze that trigger no matter how interesting his speech was.
Soon he would be a dead man. An ugly dead man.
Patient like a spider waiting for her prey, Widow paused for the perfect moment to shoot, just when the major would be absorbed in his speech, so his movement would be minimal.
The time she had been waiting for had finally arrived. From the one second to the next, Widowmaker knew her moment to strike had come. Years of experience told the dangerous predator exactly when to pull the trigger.
Her delicate finger started to slowly squeeze the cold metal trigger backwards, her body preparing for the satisfying recoil of her rifle, her mental eye already seeing the bullet connecting with the target's head, forcing it to explode in a burst of red. Widowmaker anticipated that welcoming warm feeling of life returning to her soul when she had finished taking the major's life. When she had killed again. She looked forward to it with a subtle smile on her purple lips.
But suddenly there was a strange whooshing sound somewhere behind Widowmaker. It made her relax her trigger-finger, perking up her ears. And then there was a voice which should not have been there.
She should have been alone on the rooftop. There shouldn't have been anyone apart from Widowmaker. Yet a voice with heavy British accent urged to her ears, picking a special chord inside the deadly assassin; one she thought was familiar for a moment before that notion was gone again.
"Has someone ever told you how hot your butt looks when you look through that scope?" The annoying voice was followed by an equally annoying giggle. Even before Widowmaker managed to do anything there was that strange flash of orange again which made her hesitate for a fraction of a second.
But then Talon's freshly reinstalled mental programming took over once again and her body began moving on its own.
Widow's head shot up from her rifle as she smoothly jumped to her feet, immediately spotting the person who managed to sneak up on her.
A flash of orange.
It should have been a reason to pause, at least for a moment, but Talon's master assassin was running on autopilot. Someone was trying to withhold her from the objective which was given to her. Someone was interfering. That person was an enemy. A silent voice in her head kept whispering in her ear, ordering her to eliminate the enemies of Talon. To eliminate everyone who dared to interfere with the orders given to Widowmaker. And it was that creepy silent voice which kept Amélie from pausing and thinking, otherwise she might have stopped herself.
But she didn't.
Tracer stood there with a happy smile on her lips. She knew what Widowmaker had told her before she had left her alone inside that belfry in London. Looking back now, finally seeing the woman which made her heart jump wildly in her chest, it already seemed like it had been an eternity ago since they last saw each other.
Tracer knew she promised Amélie to be careful.
All the time she was around the public square, nervously looking out for a possible sniper, checking all the possible locations and hoping, praying to god that Talon would have sent her.
And then Tracer had finally spotted something, which could have been the shadow of a barrel. She had almost missed that little detail, but luckily Tracer checked twice. Someone was on top of a roof, and that was when a part of Lena just knew. She hurried past security when they weren't watching and basically flew up the stairs to the rooftop of the building. She crashed through the metal door onto the warm concrete roof, her eyes scanning for the source of the shadow Tracer had seen before.
And Lena found who she had hoped to find.
Tracer may very well have never felt so excited in her whole life before. There she was, lying on a rooftop in her impossibly tight outfit, the evening sun shining down on her perfect body and a gentle breeze softly playing with her silken hair.
In that very moment, being careful was Tracer's last concern. She was just too happy to see her again. And once she did, her mouth started to talk on its own.
Widowmaker spun around, grabbing her rifle at its barrel, preparing for a preemptive strike against the intruder. Amélie didn't realize the happy smile on her opponent's lips. She didn't see Tracer's eyes light up in anticipation. All she saw was an enemy.
An annoyance.
A target.
Without any hesitation, she rammed the metal shaft of her rifle straight into the intruder's face.
What did surprise Widow was how the other woman didn't seem to be the least bit prepared for an attack. She had her guard down completely, taking the blow to her face without any effort to deflect it. The woman grunted in pain, stumbling a few steps back, before Widow jumped forward, her whole body acting completely on its own. The relentless conditioning and brutal training Talon subjected her to had kicked in and was forcing her body to react accordingly. Eliminate your enemy. It was her highest priority right now. Kicking the annoyance in her stomach in an expertly done move of perfectly executed close combat, she brought her leg up to spin her body in the air and kick her opponent in the face once more time, using all the momentum of her moving body.
It happened so fast that Widowmaker had already landed a couple of heavy strikes, sending the other woman sliding over the rooftop, when she consciously realized for the first time that the girl in tight orange leggings didn't even try to fight back. Despite being clearly armed, two pistols fixed to her thighs, the girl in bright orange leggings wasn't defending herself. No matter how hard Widowmaker hit the woman, she didn't make a move to draw her guns.
She just stood there, taking the beating like she was used to it, until she was lying on the ground, unmoving. Normally Widowmaker never talked to her victims, but this was the first time that someone didn't even try to put up a fight. She was really curious why that was, just as much as she was angry about it. It was almost insulting. Did that girl consider her an unworthy opponent? Was that it? What was that girl thinking?
"Why are you not fighting back?" Widowmaker hissed angrily, standing tall over the injured and bruising intruder. What was that shit about? The longer Widowmaker looked, the more she got the feeling that she had seen her before. Somehow the girl seemed familiar. She had something written on the left leg of her leggings. 'Tracer'. Was that her name? Tracer? It did sound oddly familiar. Though no matter how much Widow concentrated, whatever she was searching for barely escaped her grasp. She had the feeling it had been on the tip of her tongue, yet too far away to actually remember. Widowmaker was just sure that it had been something important. Important enough to not kill this annoyance on the spot. Important enough to still be there after being through her complete overhaul. "What do you want?"
And then the strange woman did something Widowmaker would have never imagined could happen.
Tracer smiled. At her.
It was a shaky, painful smile, but Tracer still did it. She smiled at the woman who just beat her up so badly that she was lying on the floor of the rooftop, her lips bleeding and her face bruising. What the fuck?
"Who are you?!" Widowmaker snarled, causing the warm smile on Tracer's lips to disappear for a tiny moment, before it was there again. Something was not right. Something was not right at all.
Tracer felt like being stabbed by a thousand daggers over and over again. Rationally, she knew that this could happen. She knew that Widowmaker could be forced to forget her at some point. She just hoped it wouldn't be so soon, that there would be more time for them to spend together and more opportunities to create memories worth holding on to.
Lena knew what had happened to Widowmaker when she attacked her. Yet the words spoken were more painful than the hits taken. Those Talon bastards! They had wiped her memory again, taking away every last bit of what Lena shared with Widow. They did just what Amélie had feared they would do. And they succeeded in it.
It wasn't Amélies fault. She was the victim in all of this.
Lena moved her lips to say something, but the sound which came out was too silent for Widow to hear, Tracer's voice carried away in the soft summer evening winds. The French assassin was too curious and too overwhelmed at this moment to resist the urge to crouch down next to the defeated woman, who never put up a fight in the first place. She wanted to hear what she would have to say, before she ended her puny life.
"Why would I want to hurt the girl of my dreams?" Tracer breathed, looking at Widowmaker with eyes wide open. She had tears in her eyes, not because of the physical pain, but because of what happened to her Amélie. Tracer didn't cry for selfish reasons; she couldn't help but do it because of Widowmaker. Her own pain was nothing compared to the things Talon did to Amélie. "I would never"
Once again they took everything away from the French woman. Tracer realized that with the impact of Widow's rifle in her face, yet the decision she made was an easy one. Tracer didn't want to take any chances; fighting back would have caused way more trouble than it would have solved. She promised Amélie that she'd make her remember, no matter what.
And Tracer would keep that promise, no matter what.
"Wha-" Widowmaker gasped, completely dumbstruck. What the hell was this lunatic talking about? They didn't know each oth-
"I promised I'll make you remember, luv" Tracer said in tears, yet trying to laugh in a desperate attempt to seem positive.
luv...
The word felt like someone stuck a needle in the back of Widowmaker's head. A short series of swift images flashed though her mind.
Tracer looking at her with burning desire. Eyes filled with tears. A desperate plea: "Don't go now!"
Widowmaker blinked as a slight pain in the back of her head started to become noticeable and Amélie pressed her hand to her temple. What the hell is going on? Who is this girl? What is she doing to me?
"I would never hurt you, Amélie. Never." Tracer repeated, that same smile on her lips, her eyes still glowing with such a painfully obvious mixture of affection and sorrow when she reached out with a weak hand to touch Widowmaker's blue cheek.
And unlike the last person who tried to touch Widow, she allowed it this time, too overwhelmed by the situation and too caught up in the strange warm feeling which started to surround her frozen heart. Maybe it was because a part of her thought it was supposed to be this way, maybe it was because she seemed to remember something forgotten.
Widowmaker didn't know the reason.
She just knew that Tracer's hot touch on her cold cheek felt good. It gave Widow a strange feeling of safety, and it seemed like it was oddly familiar. Very familiar. It shouldn't have, there was no way it could have, but nevertheless, Widowmaker felt like this strange girl had touched her before today. Soft, hot fingers gently brushed over cold skin, sending an electric spark through the assassin as she subconsciously leaned her face into Tracer's hand just a little bit.
"Please remember, luv. Think back to the belfry. Think about the time we spent together. Please remember me." Tracer's voice was getting heavy, and she swallowed a sour lump in her throat. "Please." she whispered with eyes starting to tear up again. Tracer had no idea if this would work. She just wanted the woman from a few weeks ago to come back to her. "You have no idea how lost I am without you." Lena sniffled "Come back to me. I beg you, Amélie."
Amélie...
The name sunk into Widowmaker's head as she slowly blinked. She had heard this name spoken from these lips before in another time, in another life. There was ... she had...
Suddenly the faint headache in the back of her skull violently exploded, like someone had smacked her across the head with a shovel, tossing Widow's consciousness into an endless dark ocean filled with black water. For a short moment she felt like she was drowning, but when the floods had consumed her and her lungs seemed like bursting, Amélie noticed that she could breathe freely, despite feeling like she was submerged in water. The water around her looked like it was boiling, bubbles rapidly rising to the surface while she sank deeper and deeper toward the ground. Before long Amélie found herself inside some kind of belfry. There was a weekly market on the civic center down below and Widowmaker recalled watching someone.
Not for Talon, but for herself. Widowmaker remembered that she wanted to be there, closer to the woman she was watching, but she didn't dare to actually follow through with that desire.
The images she saw were blurry, but Widowmaker was sure that she had definitely been there. Somehow. She lacked any feeling of time, but suddenly the girl which was currently lying on the floor on a rooftop in Numbani was with her inside that belfry, far, far away, straddling her with a teasing smirk.
Tracer.
A second later, Widow was the one who leaned forward for a kiss. She could almost feel the warmth of Tracer's lips. She could almost smell her sweet scent as she remembered closing her eyes. The moment their lips softly brushed against each other was a short one.
And in exactly that moment, those intriguing brown eyes, the caring smile and happy voice which could only belong to one person and one person alone, tore the artificially implemented wall in Widowmaker's head down with a huge sledgehammer. Tracer's words were the ultimate battering ram, forcing her to remember what she thought was left forgotten.
TRACER!
A terrible stinging pain flooded her head and Widowmaker cringed, squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of confusing desires and forgotten fantasies washed over her. She didn't understand. What in the name of all the seven hells was going on?! Why was she seeing these stupid visions? These pictures and fantasies, these... memories. Were they memories of what happened?
Did she know Tracer before? Was she fond of the bubbly Overwatch agent? Did she actually kiss the Brit? Widowmaker was so confused as another wave of blurry images and distorted voices flooded into her mind.
A dark alley. A stinging pain in her abdomen. "Letting you bleed to death would be just like killing you." A gentle touch. Being carried by a warm body. A caring smile.
"She lost a lot of blood, Angela. God, please help me!" Eyes filled with tears. A voice full of concern and panic. Badly shaking hands desperately trying to stop her from bleeding to death.
"What'cha looking at, luv?" A cheeky wink. A bite off a red apple. Warmth and affection.
"You know, if you want to ask me out, you just have to do so." Genuine interest. Hot hands caressing cold wrists. Beautiful warm brown eyes peering into cold golden ones.
"I will make you remember!" hurting glances. A horrible decision. A painful goodbye.
"Why would I want to hurt the girl of my dreams?" A serious question.
The memories of what happened between her and Tracer washed over her like a giant waterfall as she desperately tried to make her way back to the surface of the dark ocean her mind was tossed into.
Widow's head felt like it was about to explode. She squeezed her hands to her temples as if she was trying to not let her head burst open. It felt like she was failing. Someone was cracking her skull open with a dull spoon; Widowmaker was sure of it.
And then, all of a sudden there was a gentle, warm touch again. "Luv?" the woman with a heavy British accent asked. Widowmaker's eyes snapped open, her breathing frantic and shock written all over her stern features. Her eyes fell on Lena's worried face, the concern for Widowmaker clearly apparent, even surpassing her bruises and injuries. "Are you alright? Talk to me!" Tracer pleaded as she pushed herself up on one arm, ignoring the pain in her whole body. Damn, Amélie could land a good punch.
Widowmaker couldn't help but inhale sharply. She had no idea why, but somehow this Brit managed to rip the inhibitors of Talon's memory-wipe, which prevented Amélie from accessing certain parts of her memory, apart like it was nothing but wet toilet paper. She made Widowmaker remember just like she promised she would.
And Amélie remembered.
Everything. The deadly dance they used to dance and how they slowly grew closer and closer. How Tracer made her feel alive, appreciatedand wanted. How strongly Widow desired the Brit with every fiber of her aching body.
Heaven, what have I done?
"Chérie?" Widowmaker whispered with trembling voice, looking at the Brit, whose expression started to glow when she heard this one, softly spoken word which Widow only and solely used when referring to Tracer.
"Thank God, you remember! Thank you!" Tracer gasped with wide eyes. "I am here, luv. I won't go anywhere else" Lena promised and tried to smile while her heart was beating faster and faster. She did it! She managed to get Widow to remember! Lena didn't know a word which could have described how she was feeling right now.
Yet Widowmaker didn't understand. The images she saw were hazy, but there was a memory of Tracer and another girl with bright blonde hair. The reason she left Tracer alone. The reason Widowmaker decided to have her memory cleaned up again.
However what Amélie saw now didn't fit together with what she remembered.
"You are ...! You shouldn't be, but why are you...? I don't understand, you... you"
"Slow, luv." Lena said, clumsily trying to catch Amélie's shaking hands in her own. God, her head was killing her. She had never been hit in the face so hard ever before. "Talk to me"
Widowmaker opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to find the right words while, at the same time, coping with the huge amount of memories suddenly available to her. It was overwhelming, to put it in simple terms.
She remembered Tracer picking her up in the dirty alley. She remembered being carried to Oxton's apartment where the Brit tended to her wounds. Amélie also remembered watching Tracer for days, fearing what would happen if she'd approach her. Of course she also remembered what happened in the belfry. Their mutual affection; their passionate kisses shared while tightly embracing each other and of course Amélie's biggest mistake: their goodbye.
But Widowmaker remembered visiting Tracer one evening as well. Or at least she wanted to. She remembered being on the balcony in front of Lena's living-room, seeing her with that other blonde girl. Amélie remembered the reason why she returned to Talon to have her memory cleared again.
So why was Tracer here now? She looked genuinely worried about Widow and obviously cared a lot. She wouldn't have let Amélie beat her up if she didn't care. And that didn't exactly make the most sense if there was someone else in her life. What was her deal? Widowmaker was so confused. Was it possible that she maybe misunderstood what she had seen? Was there a different truth to the one she believed to know?
"You should be with that other girl! Why are you here? I left knowing you'd be happy with her, so what are you... you doing here?" Widowmaker didn't understand. She didn't know how to say this. She didn't know anything anymore. Nothing made any sense.
"What are you talking about?" Tracer asked, furrowing a brow. Which girl? What?
"I wanted to visit you the last time. I was on your balcony, but you had a visitor. The pretty blonde? I am not that stupid... am I? She even wore your shirt." Widow blurted out, spilling everything unfiltered as it crossed her mind. It was too much. She was too confused, her insides trembling with a sensation Amélie only ever felt in the presence of Tracer.
For a moment Oxton was silent, apparently thinking, before it dawned on her.
"Angela?" Tracer frowned "Are you talking about Mercy?" Lena actually giggled when she heard that. "So, you already kind of met my best friend, luv. My oldest, best, straight friend." Tracer couldn't help but laugh. Talk about misunderstandings.
Widowmaker stared at Tracer with a blank expression. One word stuck in her mind like glue. "S-straight?" she had the confusion written all over her face. What she remembered didn't seem the least bit straight. Then again, she couldn't remember having a best friend her whole life, so she'd hardly know the difference, right?
"Yes. She was on vacation and came to check in on me. She was the one who helped me patch you up, when you were shot, remember?" Tracer asked, causing Widow to slowly nod. "She just swung by. I spilled my glass of wine on her shirt; that's why I gave her one of mine. Angela is just a friend, nothing more. I promise. There is only you. Just you. No one else. Never."
"Are you serious?" Widowmaker asked, feeling how a huge weight was lifted off her heavy heart as she stared down at Tracer. The Brit just nodded and Widow knew her cute little annoyance was being absolutely honest in this moment. Her eyes were telling everything about Lena, if you dared to gaze deep enough into them. If Tracer said there was nothing going on between her and Angela, it was this way. Period. Widowmaker trusted Lena. She trusted her before the incident that made her forget and she trusted her now. After Tracer proofed to what lengths she would go for Widow's sake -for the sake of fulfilling a promise- more than ever.
It was like Tracer wanted to say something when movement on the rooftop caught Amélie's attention.
"Hey, you two there! This is a restricted area! What are you doing here?" A man shouted. Tracer turned around to see two policemen, a human and an omnic, approaching them with fast steps. They were both wearing dark blue uniforms with black bulletproof vests. The human cop was reaching for his pistol. "Don't you move!" he ordered with a commandeering, angry voice. "You are both under arrest."
And that was when Lena knew shit was about to hit the fan. She would have really wished that at least sometimes she'd be wrong about these kind of things, but today was apparently not one of those days. The British Overwatch agent barely had time to look over at Widowmaker. The assassin had already grabbed one of Tracer's plasma-pistols from her holster and swung over Lena's body, keeping her pressed to the floor with half a knee and a hand, as if she wanted to make sure Tracer was out of the line of fire. Faster than Tracer could have reacted, Widowmaker emptied half a magazine of the rapid firing plasma pistol into the human cop, while Tracer was left with no other choice but to watch from basically underneath her. It was a strange angle. Strange but very... stimulating. Widowmaker's skintight bodysuit didn't leave a lot to Lena's imagination, however inappropriate this was to notice in a situation like this.
Moments later, the Omnic policeman suffered a similar fate as his human colleague. The bodies hadn't even hit the floor yet, when Widowmaker was already at her feet again, hurrying over to the two policemen. She wouldn't allow anyone to interrupt again. Widowmaker would never allow someone to give Tracer crap for the things Widow did, yet alone arrest her. How dare they interrupt this and expect to walk away from it! She stared at the two cops who were stupid enough to make their presence known to the French assassin. Annoying pests.
Lena thought Amélie would check if they both were really dead.
And Widowmaker kind of did and didn't. She did make sure they were dead. She didn't really check. Wearing a face of disgust the assassin looked down on her two victims and, without any hesitation, Widow shot the omnic in the head, before she turned to the human. He was coughing up blood, likely trying to beg for his life, before Widow once again squeezed the trigger, blasting a hole in his head as well. Now there was no doubt left that those two fools wouldn't get up again.
Tracer was left with no other choice but watch Amélie murder those two cops. And a part of her wanted to yell out for her to stop.
But Lena didn't.
She couldn't.
This wasn't Amélie's fault, Tracer had to remind herself over and over again of that fact. It was Talon who made her like this, who forced her to become who she was now. And Tracer despised them for it.
Them.
Not her. Widow just did was she thought was best. She did what people taught her to do, and some sick fuck at Talon decided it had to be killing.
Lena saw how a one-sided smile was spread over Amélie's lips as the French assassin took a fraction of a second to relish the feeling of taking another one's life.
It was her satisfaction.
Widowmaker turned around to look at Tracer, who was trying to sit up a few meters away from her. And Amélie's face suddenly relaxed when her eyes fell on Lena again. The Brit was having difficulties picking herself up, while she tried to hide a mortified look on her face.
Right. It had been her satisfaction.
And now there was her. With her bright smile and warm eyes, she was everything Amélie could have hoped for and possibly even more. Now that she remembered, Widow felt like a fool for ever wanting to forget. It had been such a stupid decision.
Walking back to Tracer, she pushed these thoughts aside for now. Chances were the omnic managed to contact police-HQ, Widowmaker should have shot him first, but the human had the pistol already risen. The more dangerous threat dies first, most basic rule of engagement.
But now there were most likely more security forces en route. "Time to get going, don't you think?" she said, a little hint of insecurity in her voice. "I'd really like to talk to you for a little bit" Widowmaker added, her eyes meeting Lena's for a second. She would never understand how the Brit could be so positive about everything, even now she was still trying to pull off a shaky smile. Amélie quickly looked away, Lena's gaze too intense for the moment "If that's ok" she added in a whisper.
Insecure Widowmaker was something terribly cute. Something Tracer hadn't seen before and something which made her almost forget about the two dead cops lying on the rooftop.
Almost. Still, she really had to address this now or Tracer knew the topic would never come up again.
"You killed them." Tracer stated. She wasn't sure why Amélie did it apart from being used to it. They didn't technically do anything major wrong, so Tracer was sure that the problem could have been solved with some smiles and smooth talking. And diverting attention from the fact that they were both armed... and part of terror-organizations. Which Overwatch was as well, not only Talon. At least officially.
"I did" Widowmaker replied. For her the decision was a no-brainer for one terribly simple reason.
"Why?" Lena wanted to know and Amélie greatly appreciated that Tracer didn't sound like she was judging Widow for the actions she took. Tracer made that question sound like general curiosity and not like she was trying to scold Amélie for something she did wrong.
"The human had a gun. He was going to shoot; they always do. You think I'd let them shoot at you? I am the only one who gets to hurt you" Widowmaker replied, trying to hide her concerns for Tracer behind some feigned bossy attitude, and yet Lena saw right through her.
"Aww, you wanted to protect me, luv? Is that it?" Lena cocked her head sideways in a cute manner "You don't have to, you know?" she said with a wide smile and glistering eyes. Widowmaker yet again had to look away so Tracer wouldn't see the rapid pink blush spreading over her cheeks.
"Stop uttering nonsense! I didn't want to go to jail you idiot. What do you think they'd do to me there? Or Talon, once they find out?"
Widowmaker tried to defuse the situation for her. But no matter how much jesting there was in this statement, there also was some truth to it. And suddenly Tracer understood why Amélie always shot on sight. If she was ever to be captured, no amount of smooth talking would get her out of the gigantic mess she'd be stuck in. Those two policemen had to be taken care of or else it would have been not only Widowmaker who'd have suffered the consequences, but Tracer as well.
And she didn't even want to think about the cruel implications of Widow's last statement. What would Talon do in such a case? Bust her out? Probably. Followed by some highly painful punishment. Most likely.
Still, killing the two cops was cruel. But that was the price of Widow's freedom and Tracer got the feeling she'd have to make some tough decisions in the future if she wanted to enable her a rudimentary normal life in freedom.
The truth was, Tracer wanted nothing more than a normal life for Amélie. She deserved it so much, she deserved to leave this horrible mess behind her and have enough time to peacefully heal from what was done to her. And if she'd allow it, Tracer would stay right at her side, helping her however possible.
"Can we leave now?" Widowmaker asked, suddenly back to a way more nervous self.
"Of course." Lena nodded, trying to pick herself up from the floor before two slender but strong arms helped her to her feet.
"I am really sorry" Amélie whispered, looking at Tracer with apologetic eyes. The bubbly Brit just giggled as Widowmaker helped her toward the staircase. "For hitting you and... everything else"
"Don't be, luv. I knew this could happen. It's fine, really. I just want my Widow back, ok? I just want you back." Tracer replied with a happy smile. She didn't dare to call the assassin her Amélie yet. She wasn't sure if the French girl would ever be anyone's Amélie again, so Tracer decided against it.
But that was something to dwell on another day. Today their reunion went unexpectedly smooth. She didn't even want to begin to think about how many things could have gone wrong. So, two dead policemen were somehow a none too negative result. Tracer frowned at the thought, Widowmaker really was no good influence. But she honestly couldn't care less.
When the door leading outside into the bright public place in front of the museum was opened, Tracer raised a hand to her head, shielding her eyes from the strong rays of the slowly sinking evening sun. Everything was bathed in beautifully warm orange light. Numbani's major was still talking to the public in what seemed to be a heated and emotional speech, while Widowmaker and Tracer found themselves in an ocean of people.
Noticing that Tracer was slowing down, Amélie adjusted her pacing so Tracer wouldn't trip over until they both were standing in the middle of a large crowd. "What's the matter, chérie?" Widow asked, bringing a smile to Tracer's lips. The way Amélie pronounced the word chérie andthe way it sounded in Lena's ears made her heart skip a beat or two. She beamed at Amélie, her radiance glowing with happiness which let the bad bruises in her face fade in comparison.
"Today was a good day" she finally said, wrapping her arms around Widow's waist and leaning a little closer to Widowmaker, not caring what the people around them would think. She could smell the wonderful scent of Amélie's perfume already, but didn't quite dare kiss the other woman yet. A part of Tracer wanted to make sure everything was alright on Widow's end. It must have been difficult to suddenly remember so many things all at once. No matter how much Lena wanted to taste those intriguing purple lips again, she was not sure if this would be too fast for Amélie. They had time. There was no rush. She made the first step, but left the rest to her partner in crime.
A gentle smile tugged on Amélie's lips, feeling the warmth radiating off Tracer once again confirming the feeling she had in her visions and memories. This was what made her feel more alive than anything else ever could. This was the woman, who made her feel again. Who made breathing freely easy and who made everything else around her seem unimportant.
There was a cold, soft and careful touch on Tracer's lips as Widowmaker gently brought them together.
And just when Tracer's eyes were about to slowly close, embracing the moment and relishing in Widow's embrace, the world around them turned to chaos. A blinding bright light caught the attention of both women followed by a powerful blast wave washing over the civic center and an all deafening explosion. The ground started shaking, and people were frozen solid for a moment as everyone took a moment to realize what was going on.
Their heads spun around to see a huge mushroom of fire rise into the air, exactly where the wooden stage had been before. Where a second prior Numbani's major had been talking, there was now a huge fireball. Maybe it was because of the noise of the explosion, but there was an odd moment of complete silence while debris and pieces of various different sizes and materials raced through the air.
Tracer had seen her fair share of explosions. But not one was so close to her. This feels strangely peaceful she thought, looking at a dark dot which was growing in size, as if it was coming closer.
Strange.
It was just as if the dark object was getting closer. What was that thing?
Maybe it was a piece of wood or something.
It was wood. From the stage.
Oh shit, was all the Overwatch agent managed to think, before her world turned dark.
-/-
A/N:
So that's it for this episode of Addictions, Widow and Tracer are finally reunited. Now we know that Talon's mind trickery stands no chance against the battering ram that is Tracer :D I hope you enjoyed :)
Thank you all for your awesome support, feedback and all the kind words. Really, when I published the first chapter of this I literally had zero expectations. There were about 200 Overwatch-stories and I thought no one would really care, yet alone read this. Oh boy was I wrong. You guys rock, all of you, and don't let anyone tell you different! I am having so much fun writing this like I never had before and I literally dropped all my other stories until this is finished, just because it is amazing how much support this gets. Keep it up guys and gals! I love you all.
Beta, as usual, the one and only EhMattissimo. Long may he live :P
Also I want to thank Azuki Rose for the absolutely amazing review and all the support. Thank you so much!
A review in general would make me very happy, so you could use that convenient box right below this text and tell me what's on your mind :) If lunch is, what's on your mind, you can tell me that as well, I really don't care. Just talk to me. (A lot of you do already and I absolutely love it!)
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