Unknown location, France, somewhere near the south coast.
"Master?"
"What is it, Gerda?" Savant looked up from his newspaper, eyeing his slave maid with mild annoyance. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace, not be bothered by some unimportant details. The fact that his meal was still not served was bothering him enough as it was. Apparently it was time for some major changes with the kitchen employees. Gerda just added to his general discontent at the moment. She was so hyper attentive all the time, communicating every small detail with him. Sure, he had ordered her to be neuro-programmed like this, but sometimes it was simply annoying.
"I'm sorry, but there is bad news." she stated timidly, rubbing her hands together while having to work up the courage to look her master in the eyes. He dropped the newspaper onto the large dinner table in front of him, covering the exquisite porcelain.
"What kind of bad news?" He inquired sharply, piercing her with a sharp glare. His maid started trembling under his gaze as he felt himself growing angry. He was no friend of bad news. Not at all.
"W-we have lost one of the swimming headquarters." Gerda pressed out.
"I see" Savant said, scarily calm, while he proceeded to fold the newspaper in front of him in a precise way. He didn't look at his maid. "Give me the rundown" he ordered, placing the paper above the dishes.
"Y-Yes, Master" Gerda stammered. She knew that her master was far from the calmness he portrayed now. This wouldn't be the first time. And it surely wouldn't be the last. "At approximately 2200 hours yesterday evening there was what appeared to be refueling accident at Diskon. Currently all we have available is a satellite image which suggests improper fuel handling as the cause of the following explosion. We lost number 3, Central Europe, Master, along with the tanker. I am sorry." Gerda managed, keeping her hands behind her back despite knowing what would most likely follow.
"Central Europe." Savant stood up and out of his exquisite oak wood chair "Central Europe." he repeated, walking over to Gerda and placing both his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were burning holes inside his smaller maid.
"Survivors?" he asked with a forcibly controlled voice. The corner of his lip was twitching.
Gerda took a deep breath. "None, Master. We lost 2349 soldiers, 12 test subjects, and General Natasha Azarova, the Dark Wing commander."
In that moment, Savant lost his temper. His hands shot from Gerda's shoulders to her throat, grabbing her tightly as he lifted her into the air, chocking her.
"Do I look like I give a shit about the soldiers?" he hissed, infuriated.
"N-no, Master" Gerda pressed out. She kept her hands behind her back. She was trained to take his rage. It was okay.
"You useless cunt!" He yelled, kneeing Gerda into the stomach before tossing her into the room. "Do you have any idea who Number 3 had on board?!"
Gerda tried to pick herself up from the floor, tasting blood in her mouth. "TTS 627, Master." she coughed, taking another hit from her owner. "Please forgive me! I'll find another solution!" she begged desperately. Her stomach felt like it was on fire. Savant grabbed his maid by the collar again and lifted her up into the air.
"I don't give a shit about Ziegler, either! She is replaceable somehow. You know exactly who I am talking about! Don't you dare play dumb with me."
"I'm sorry, Master!" Gerda said. She kept apologizing even if she didn't do anything wrong. It didn't matter. "I will gladly fill her place, if that satisfies you."
Groaning, Savant let go of his maid who struggled to stand straight. "You will do that. But first, you will fill a gunship with a tech-team and a bunch of sappers and dispatch them to Diskon. Also, send a echelon fighters, just to make sure"
"Right away, Master" Gerda replied devoted.
"And get me my dinner!"
-/-
Diskon, Russia, Grandmother Zaryanova's hotel, a few hours later.
The corridor was dark and damp. Unpleasant altogether. Not a place anyone would consider walking down if it could be helped. Tracer had no idea how she ended up here. It was cold and drafty. She was scared. But scared of what? She didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to run. Hurry. Run. Get away from something. Or get somewhere. Tracer didn't know what it was. She just knew that time was running short.
Her ragged breaths were echoing from the cold metal walls of the dark corridor together with the sound of her hurried steps. Lena stumbled forward, looking back over her shoulder like she wanted to check if someone was after her.
But no one was there.
She was alone.
Yet she didn't feel like she was.
How on earth did she end up here? Where was she? What was this place?
Her lungs were aching from breathing so hectically, but Tracer couldn't allow herself to stop and consider anything for even a small moment. She knew that she needed to get there.
There?
Where?
Lena had no idea. She didn't know. But time was running short. It was. It had to. There was not enough of it. She needed to hurry. Hurry. Faster. Now. Move.
Lena ran toward a crossroad, the confining corridors still dark and narrow. She got the feeling that the ground underneath her was slightly moving like she was on a ship of some sorts. Was she? If so, how got she here? Lena didn't have time for answers. She took the corridor to her left and burst through a door.
She knew it was the correct door. The door she had been searching for without knowing it. It was an ordinary metal door, like any other, but Lena still knew it was the one she wanted right now.
Behind the door, however, was nothing but darkness.
Complete darkness.
Breathing hectically, Lena felt her panic rise and rise. This had to be the right room! It was. She knew. But why was there no one here? She spun around to leave the room again, but the door was gone.
Lena froze in place.
She was standing in the dark.
Alone.
A painfully long second ticked past, like the sand in the hour glass has turned to sticky goo.
"Help me" a familiar voice called out faintly for her from the darkness. It sounded muffled, as if it were spoken under water. Lena didn't dare to turn around for a moment, fearing what she'd see. Her limbs were hurting, and she felt her heart race from all the adrenaline coursing through her veins like poison.
What was this place?
It didn't matter. She turned around anyway. Where before only black nothingness had been, a dim light was now illuminating a clear pillar of water.
It shouldn't have been standing on its own, but somehow it did. The body of water was just standing there, in the nothingness, the surface clear like ice.
Lena gazed into the transparent liquid for a moment, her heart beating faster and more frantic with every moment passing. Help. She'd love to help. Help whom? Help how?
"Help me, Süße. Please help me" the voice called again. Angela's voice. Inside the water. Muffled. Drowning. Pleading. Immediately, Lena stepped closer to the water, in panic trying to see where her best friend was.
"Angela?" she cried. "Where are you?" Lena yelled into the water. She couldn't see anything inside the dimly lit water. There were mere reflections. A shimmer. A glint. A distorted image of her ashen face. It didn't help.
For a moment longer, Lena peered into the water with keen eyes, her soul filling with despair.
And then there was a blonde mane. A flash of gold. Floating in the water was the form of Angela Ziegler, her hair swaying in the water together with her innocent white dress. She was weightless. The deep ocean blue eyes opened wide as she drifted toward Tracer. Slowly, like she had all the time in the world.
But she was drowning.
"Help me!" Angela suddenly yelled, her body moving in a frantic manner, bubbles of air rising out of her mouth to the invisible surface.
Without any hesitation, Lena lunged out to her best friend, her arms reaching deeply inside the ice cold water, desperately trying to get a hold of Angela. But their hands kept missing each other.
The look of horror and fear on Angela's face grew wider and wider while Lena's attempts to save her friend were only getting more desperate. Hurried. Rushed. Panicked. She had to get her out of there. She needed to help. She was her best friend.
Finally, she caught Angela at her wrist and tried to pull her out of the water.
But her best friend was heavy.
Too heavy.
And she was slowly sinking into the ice-cold grave, together with Tracer, pulling her down into the depth of the water.
Her face touched the horribly cold surface, and Lena managed to pull back for what was but a moment to inhale deeply.
She refused to let go of her best friend, who was sinking into the water, even if it meant she would be dragged into the same depths. She wouldn't let go. She didn't allow herself.
"Chérie?"
NO! Tracer's heart stopped at the thought that Amélie could be in danger, too. Not her. Please not.
Lena tried to turn around and see who was calling her. She knew who it was. Rationally, she knew, but she also didn't know. The entire scene was extremely hazy. So confusing. Nothing added up. Lena glanced over her shoulder to see the person calling for her.
Please don't be in trouble. Please be fine. Please don't be drowning.
No one was there.
And Lena felt the hand she was holding on to so tightly slip out of her tight grasp.
She paddled back around, now fully emerged in water, trying to spin her body as fast as possible. But Angela was gone, too. She was nowhere to be seen, and nowhere to be heard. Angela was no more.
Lena screamed under the tides, violent bubbles gurgling out of her throat. She desperately grabbed into the water in front and around her, trying to find Angela again until the frantic Brit had lost all orientation.
Mercy wasn't there anymore.
No matter how much Lena tried to find her again, it didn't help. Yet Lena wouldn't give up. Her breath was running short. Her lungs were burning. Her throat was tightening, begging her to gasp for the nonexistent air. But she didn't give up. She desperately attempted to grab the person she tried to save.
Suddenly, there was something solid in her hands. Immediately, Lena pulled harshly on whatever it was. As hard as she could.
She collided with something. It felt like a human.
And suddenly, all the water was gone. She crashed to the hard ground in complete darkness, coughing violently and soaking wet, with nothing but a single light shining from nowhere on her.
Tracer held a body in her arms.
A cold, unmoving, limp body.
Coughing violently, Tracer dared to open her eyes and look at who she was holding.
The skin was blue. The golden eyes were open, but they were completely lifeless. Dull, without any spark. Her mouth was agape, water running out of it. She didn't move. Her heart didn't beat.
She was dead.
"AMÉLIE!" Tracer yelled at the top of her lungs. Someone just stabbed her through her heart and ripped her soul right out of her. She shattered into a thousand pieces.
Tracer shot up in her bed, ripping the sheets clinging to her sweat-soaked body up with her. She needed a moment to catch her breath and come to realize that she only had a nightmare.
It wasn't real.
The next moment, Lena noticed that she was in a bed inside a room she had never seen before and that she had absolutely no idea how she ended up here. The last thing she remembered was how she closed her eyes on Widowmaker's shoulder the day before.
A soft light on the nightstand was turned on before two cool hands gently wrapped around her "Chérie?" Widow's silent voice asked carefully.
Her sweet scent filled Tracer's nose as she eagerly sucked it into her lungs. It calmed her down faster than anything else could have done in that moment. She turned her head around and peered into Amélie's bright golden eyes. The question of how Lena had ended up in the bed suddenly became superfluous.
"I'm alright" Lena said, shaking her head "It was just a bad dream. I'm alright." she repeated.
Widowmaker simply looked at her for a moment, making sure that her lover was, indeed, fine. Heavens, she knew Lena would exactly be the person to say she was fine when she really was anything but. Amélie gave Lena's lower arms a slight but reassuring squeeze. Like she meant to tell Lena that she was there for her.
"I'll take a shower" Tracer suddenly announced, untangling her from Widow's embrace before she climbed out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. It was very early in the morning, and the sun was not yet up, but the first rays of fragile light were beginning to shimmer in dark hues of orange on the horizon, bringing a warm blotch of color into the cold whites and blues lingering over an ice-cold winter Diskon.
Amélie was left behind in bed, the blanket loosely covering the lap of her otherwise naked body. She blinked once, feeling a little bit abandoned, before she also got out of bed and decisively followed Tracer into the bathroom.
Opening the door silently, Widow saw Lena standing in front of the small bathroom mirror, her hands supporting her weight on the old ceramic sink as she stared her reflection in the eyes.
Her lips were moving, like she was silently talking to herself, but Amélie couldn't understand the words Lena was uttering. The Brit squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and slouched her head, inhaling deeply.
Something was wrong with her lover; Amélie could see it. Feel it.
Widowmaker carefully placed a hand on the top of Lena's back, right below her neck. She felt the slight shiver which was making Tracer tremble. It wasn't caused by her touch. Lena was shaking.
Her beautiful brown eyes shot open and fixed themselves to Amélie's reflection next to hers.
"What's bothering you, chérie?" Amélie asked, gently turning Tracer away from the mirror and toward her so she could look her in the eyes directly. Widow's hands fell to Lena's waist as she pulled her closer.
"It's nothing" Lena said, shaking her head.
Amélie immediately gave the Brit a warning squeeze. "Don't you dare lie to me" she whispered in a hiss. "I'm neither blind nor stupid. What's bothering you, Lena? Was it the dream?"
Tracer hesitated for a moment. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to discuss it. But she had already opened her mouth and said something before she could think anything else. "No... Yes... In a way." Lena sighed, letting her head sink to Widow's shoulder.
"Talk to me, Lena" Amélie whispered. Lena inhaled sharply, before she just blurted out what was building up inside of her.
"I feel so useless! So weak. After Angela got abducted and I had to leave you, I was completely lost! I wanted to do something so badly, but I couldn't. And I didn't. I didn't do anything. What if that happens again? I don't want anything to happen to you..." Lena tried to explain what she thought as well as she could, but the constricting feeling around her heart was hardly expressible. "I don't want to lose you." she added in nothing but a barely audible whisper, burying her face in the crook of Amélie's cool neck, slowly inhaling the scent that was, without any doubt, her French lover.
The silence between Widow and Tracer in the following moment was not an uncomfortable one, but a heavy one nevertheless. Widow stared blankly ahead. She needed a second or two before she understood the depth of Tracer's problem. That Lena thought that she had somehow failed Amélie or Angela. That the only two people who she had ever really depended on were suddenly gone. One taken from her, and one involuntarily left behind. She felt guilty for abandoning Widowmaker in Numbani. She felt useless, because she didn't get to help the people she cared for the most. It was typical for Lena. She always wanted to be there for those who needed it. She always tried to help, and she always gave it her all.
But this time Lena couldn't do much. And Amélie understood that it made the Brit feel worthless no matter how wrong that may have been.
"Oh, chérie," she smiled, hugging the Brit closer to her "You won't ever lose me. No matter what I will always find a way back to you. You did so much for me already. And I am sure for Angela as well. Don't ever think you are useless or weak." Amélie placed a kiss on Tracer's forehead "You are probably the strongest person I know." she said sincerely. "I would not be standing here if it wasn't for you. I would not even be me anymore. I don't expect you to make everything magically better. I never have. You are the only person who gladly accepted me and made me feel wanted. Welcome. You are the only person I will ever want to come back to. You are the only one I will come back to. I promise. You won't ever lose me." She said, pushing Tracer a little bit off of her and looking deeply into her brown eyes. Tears were on the verge of flowing over, and Widow gently wiped them away with her index finger.
"Because I love you" Widow said seriously, her eyes not leaving Lena's. "And don't ever think otherwise. Je t'aimerai toujours. Je serai toujours à tes côtés." Amélie leaned down and pressed a short innocent kiss on Tracer's lips.
Lena stared at Amélie for a brief moment before her lips twitched slightly. It spread into the widest, goofiest grin Lena had ever worn before as she beamed at Amélie, bright as the daylight sun. She rose to her tiptoes and gave her lover another sweet and tender kiss on her lips.
"I love you, too." Lena hummed, their foreheads still touching. "I can't believe you said it first. I never thought you'd say that... like... ever."
Amélie giggled softly, pulling back from Tracer, and walked over to the combined bathtub and shower. She turned the faucet for the tub on while Lena eyed her carefully as Widow shrugged.
"Actually, you said it first." she stated a little cockily.
"I haven't!" Tracer insisted.
"You have. Yesterday." Widow smirked her trademark, one-sided smirk of doom while she sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other. She was still naked, after all, and this position gave her a very sexy posture. "But you were already asleep. It was terribly cute, to be honest" she said, making Lena blush fiercely. Not only because of how drop dead gorgeous her lover looked, but mostly because of what she said.
"That's not fair." Lena complained.
"Mhh. I'm not one for fair play, chérie. You know that by now" Widow smiled. "And while we are on the topic of unfair play" she looked down on her naked blue body and then over to Lena "you should get out of those clothes"
"Huh?"
"I am transforming your shower into a bath…with special service." Widow purred seductively while she dipped a finger into the hot water behind her to check the temperature. She looked incredibly sexy doing even such a simple thing. How her slender body moved, the lean muscles underneath her blue skin showing each however slight change of movement. Her eyes never left Lena. "You are still clothed, chérie. Why are you still clothed? Strip!"
"Amé-"
"Strip. Now."
Tracer laughed and pulled on her shirt "Yes, Ma'am" she joked, getting out of her clothes while Widowmaker watched.
"You like what you see?" Lena asked as she peeled her knickers off her lithe form.
"Oui" Amélie hummed in agreement, waiting for Tracer to toss her underwear to the side before she guided the bubbly Brit into the bathtub, claiming the place right behind her. The water was just the perfect temperature for a relaxing soak; not too hot, but definitely not too cold either. It was actually just a little too warm for Widow's preference, but she didn't care. She wanted Lena to be comfortable.
Her hands started gliding up the Brit's back, and then rested on her shoulders for a moment before she began to softly knead the tight muscles on that spot. Lena let a sigh of content escape her lips.
"Relax; you deserve it" Amélie said, happy when Tracer eased back into her embrace, leaning against her body. Tracer's head was resting on Amélie's shoulder as the assassin gave her lover a massage while softly nibbling on her ear.
"Mhhh. Why are you so good at this?" Lena wanted to know, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of Amélie's cool hands working to help her tense muscles relax.
Widow actually stopped for a moment after this question. "I have no idea. I just do it. And you seem to like it"
"Mhm... Don't stop. Please" Lena sighed, her body completely relaxing against Widowmaker. She felt like she was melting away inside the warm water. Amélie's cool hands were carefully tending to her muscles, making her close her eyes and enjoy the attention.
Amélie couldn't help but smile when she noticed that Tracer was close to falling asleep again. The girl was too cute at times.
But it was understandable that she was exhausted. Lena had been awake for too long to not be fatigued now. What little sleep she had gotten tonight was barely enough. And apparently it was also barely relaxing.
-/-
A couple of rooms down the hallway and a few hours later, Angela Ziegler was stepping out of her shower. The third one she took in the last couple of hours.
There was the quick one she grabbed right before collapsing into her bed.
She took one after she had woken up in the middle of the night feeling filthy for some reason.
And she had just taken one now after she had gotten up.
It did take these three showers and some very intense scrubbing and cleaning to feel clean again. Luckily, there was lots and lots of steaming hot water. Mercy really needed her shower boiling hot for the first time in her life. Usually, Angela enjoyed cold showers. She always thought they were a lot more refreshing than hot ones. But when she had turned on the water with a nice cool temperature, just like she was used to, and stepped under the thick rain for the first time since Talon captured her, she immediately jumped back out of the cabin again. The second the first drops of icy water touched her head, she was back on board the freighter, hanging from the ceiling, her head being submerged in ice water.
Angela was glad that she was alone in this moment, because she felt pathetic. She was unable to take a cold shower anymore. She told herself that it wouldn't stay this way forever and that she'd be able to overcome what happened to her. But she wasn't stupid. And on top of not being stupid, she was an excellent doctor. Mercy knew better than anyone that she'd need time above all other things.
So, she turned the faucet to the other side, heating the water to a barely tolerable level. It was painful.
But it didn't bring any bad memories.
Which was way less painful than the hot water.
And now Mercy looked at herself in the mirror, the white cotton towel wrapped tightly around her slender body showing just a little bit of cleavage. Her blonde mane wasn't wet, but damp, so she just let it hang over her shoulders the way they were.
Sighing, she turned away from the bathroom mirror and walked into the main room. She needed to get ready. They were going to be picked up in nearly two hours now. Tossed over a chair in her bedroom were the clothes Mercy wore the day before; the Talon uniform Widowmaker provided for her.
Angela picked it up and was about to slip into it, but then she noticed how filthy the damn uniform had gotten from the little time she wore it. It was dirty, and sweaty, and the simple underwear Amélie got for her was covered with old blood. Angela couldn't shower before she slipped into the white garments. Her old blood from the things Montgomery did to her completely ruined the underwear.
While Mercy stood there to consider her options, someone knocked heavily on the door. Funny how Angela could rather easily determine the size of a person by the way they knocked on a door. And that was definitely a big person knock. Which meant that the person standing outside her hotel room door could have only been one.
"Excuse me, Dr. Ziegler?" Zarya's voice called out.
"Come in" Mercy said, quickly checking if the towel which was wrapped around her body was still in place.
The door opened, and Zarya carefully entered Mercy's room, carrying a stack of things. "And please" Mercy said with a smile "don't call me Dr. Ziegler. Angela is just fine. Or Mercy, if you want to"
"Alright" Zarya returned the smile, albeit a bit insecure, maybe not overly comfortable with walking in on the doctor in a towel. "I have some fresh clothes for you. They should be your size, I hope."
"Thank you," Mercy nodded "I just ran into that problem."
"I see. Well, my grandmother prepared a small breakfast for us, so please come and join us whenever you are ready."
"Is everyone else already there?" Mercy wanted to know, taking the clothes from Zarya and placing them on her bed. It seemed like simple a wardrobe. Black pants and a white shirt, but Angela didn't care so long as she got some fresh things to wear.
"McCree and Genji are already there. Tracer and our new Talon friend are I don't know where. Lena isn't in her room. She might be checking on the assassin" Zarya shrugged.
The words sunk into Angela for a moment.
"She might be" she said with a certain spark in her eyes. Angela hoped Tracer didn't pick a fight. Actually, she hoped she did pick a fight rather than the alternative. "I guess I'll search for and bring those two along as soon as I find them. Thank you, Zarya"
"No problem."
-/-
Meanwhile, in Amélie's room, she and Tracer made it back to the bed a little while ago. Lena had finally relaxed after a wonderful massage and some mind blowing extra service before she and Widow got out of the tub, drying each other off prior to heading back to bed. They didn't bother with clothing as they had cuddled in each other's arms and Lena might have dozed off for another hour or so, sleeping against Amélie's shoulder, her unruly brown hair slightly tickling Widow's neck.
She didn't mind. Lena's body was warm and comfortable against hers, despite the chronal accelerator. She could feel the younger girl's heart beat and hear soft breath against her skin. Amélie didn't find sleep again. She just enjoyed Lena's warmth against her own.
This would be the future now, wouldn't it? Amélie hoped it would. Never in her life had she felt such peace in her heart. The thought of ever missing it again seemed unbearable now.
A couple of minutes ago Tracer had woken up again and found herself magically drawn to the pulse point on her lover's neck. She started placing careful kisses up toward the jaw line, getting a happy hum as a reply from Widow.
Lena shuffled under the blankets, moving to sit on top of Widow and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. It started out rather innocently, but quickly grew into a series of hasty, needy, and rather sloppy exchanges. She yanked Widow up from the bed, wrapping her arms around her back and burying her hands in Amélie's loose hair. She had let it down after the bath.
The two lovers were so caught up in the moment, so busy with themselves, that neither one of them heard or noticed the knock on the door.
Which was strange, since Widowmaker had excellent senses in every way, including hearing. But she didn't hear anything. Her ears were ringing from the rush of excitement she felt each time she touched Lena. Her insides were boiling, and it felt simply incredible. She wanted more. Again. It was like an insatiable hunger, a primal desire, and something she had to do without any choice. Her hands grabbed Tracer's firm butt cheeks and gave them a tight squeeze, sending Tracer a bit upward, moaning into Amélie's mouth.
What they did hear, however, was Angela's voice.
"What the hell are you doing!?" she shrieked.
Tracer almost jumped into the ceiling, she was so startled. But, since that was not really possible, she instead jumped off Widowmaker, simultaneously pulling at the covers, trying to get Amélie beneath them and cover her up. Lena was much more concerned with her lover's decency than her own, it seemed. It wasn't like Mercy hadn't seen her naked before.
"Angela, luv! W-What are you doing here?" Tracer stammered, looking at an infuriated Mercy, who was standing no more than two steps in front of the bed, her hands pressed to her hips. "I swear this isn't what it looks like!" Lena tried. She had no idea why she felt the urge to say that, but she could feel some major accusation from Mercy rolling her way already.
Amélie next to her just snorted, slightly bemused. She was running on autopilot, not really knowing what to do. So, her cocky side naturally took over. "I bet it looked like sex, chérie. Which we almost had. Again."
"Again?" Angela asked in a dangerously low tone "Again!?" she repeated, staring Tracer down "Verdammt, Lena, you are more dick-driven than a horny teen boy and you don't even have a dick! What are you thinking?! Have you stopped to consider for even a moment that the girl you are bedding may have been through literally hell before she got here? Did it occur to you that Amélie might not be the right person to work your charm on now of all the times?! Dammit, Lena, you know how irresistible you can be! But you just had to use it on someone whose life has been nothing but abuse until now!" Mercy was speaking loudly, but at least tried to keep it at household noise level.
Widowmaker tried to interrupt, actually a bit surprised that Mercy was giving Lena a hard time for this. The doctor was being protective of her, wasn't she? No one else had ever been protective of her. Not even Tracer; at least not like this. But Amélie was perfectly capable of deciding these things on her own. Especially since this was hardly their first time. But Mercy was on a roll, and Amélie didn't get a chance to speak up.
"Can't you see how that would affect someone? They did unspeakable things to her! And then you come around being all cute and friendly, am I right? Teufel noch eins, I would be in her place now if you'd hit on me right after I came back. And I know you better than anyone. Is that any indication for you?!" Mercy was mad. Lena was her best friend, yes. But she could be so inconsiderate at times. So careless. When she wanted something, or better, someone, she just went and took it with little to no thought for what it did to the other person.
And while Angela usually had no problem with that - she actually found it amusing most of the time how Lena was able to rile up girls to a point where they doubted their own preferences, just to leave them hanging - this time was different.
This time, Lena went too far. She just had to target the one woman Angela considered herself in debt to. Yes, they had a deal, but Mercy still felt the urge to watch out for Amélie. The French assassin did so much for Angela. And while she never got tired of mentioning that she did it for someone else, Angela still considered herself Amélie's friend; maybe the only friend she would have at Overwatch for some time. She wanted Widowmaker to feel welcome where they were going to go, because Angela was certain that no one else would. At least, not in the beginning. Angela would work on improving that; on proving to people that Amélie was not the ruthless killer everyone saw her as.
Finding her in bed with Tracer now was surely no part of that idea. She was not the right person for being one of Lena's one-time conquests, but Angela was sure that her best friend didn't understand the importance of this. Angela didn't even want to think about how much damage Tracer did with this. Mercy had seen a very fragile side of Amélie. A side very much receptive to emotions and to kindness. A side which longed for a place she could belong to.
Angela was mad, because she thought Tracer broke through exactly that point and used it to her advantage.
"Luv, I really care about her. She means the world to me! Would you calm down, please?" Tracer tried, but Angela didn't listen completely.
"You don't know what it means to care about her, Lena!" Mercy turned to the blue-skinned assassin "Amélie, I warned you of her. I just wanted to make sure you feel welcome here. Did you really want this? You said you only helped me because it would mean something for someone else. You said there is someone special to you, so why-?"
Angela stopped herself at the slight smile which spread over Amélie's face and how Tracer looked away, covered in scarlet. Then, Widowmaker reached out for Lena's hand and intertwined their fingers gently. It was a subconscious move, and one that happened on its own. Their hands melted together.
And then it hit Mercy like a speeding train. Right in the face.
'I am not doing this for you. I am doing it for someone else.' Amélie had said.
Mercy's safety obviously meant a lot to Tracer. Widow was in bed with her now. Smiling like she waited a long time for that reunion.
There was an image rapidly forcing its way into Angela's mind. An image she refused to acknowledge.
"Nein." she breathed "Nein. I don't believe that. That's impossible!" she shook her head adamantly.
"Mercy, this has been going on for a while. We have been seeing each other for months." Amélie smiled. "Don't blame her for something she didn't do. I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself. I'm not that dense, and neither am I that easy. The last person who hit on me out of the blue got his neck broken by yours truly." Widow said with a shrug.
Angela was shaking her head "I don't believe it. You don't need to cover her, you know? I mean, you are two adult women. It's none of my business" Angela tried, obviously not really able to cope with the entire situation. "Just don't hurt her, Lena, ok? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let myself in." Mercy said, rubbing her hands together awkwardly.
"Luv-" Tracer started, but was cut off by her lover, who apparently had a better idea.
"Let me, chérie." Widow said, giving the hand in hers a careful squeeze. "Angela, do me a favor and open the bag on that chair over there" Amélie said, nodding toward the black sports bag.
"Why?" Angela wanted to know, dumbstruck. This was too much for her. Lena. Amélie. What they claimed. What Angela thought was true. It all came together at the same time. Too much information. She felt lost, like she didn't really understand what was happening anymore. Was Tracer really the person Widow did this for? Were they telling the truth? Did she save her just to gain Tracer's attention? Why? And for what reason?
Mercy didn't find the least bit sense in her entire world anymore. So, she just walked over to the bag Amélie told her to open. It was the same bag Widow had used during their escape to carry all their equipment. It was sitting on a chair in front of a small table. Resting on top of the table was Widowmaker's rifle in sniper mode, a venom mine, a couple of magazines, and Tracer's plasma pistols, neatly sitting next to each other.
Mercy focused her attention to the black sports bag.
Quickly zipping the bag open, Angela spread the two halves of the zipper apart and peered inside.
Plastic explosives.
Great, that was surely not what Widow wanted her to see. She shuffled the countless bricks of yellow-ish modeling clay-like substance to the side before she came across two datapads and a couple of dossiers. Those were most likely her and Amélie's medical files from Talon. Angela took them out and set them on the table for now. She might have been confused, but she was still a responsible woman and doctor. She couldn't let them sit here; these documents were important. Angela needed to look into them. She would do that during their flight back to Gibraltar. No need to leave them in there if she could help it.
"Not what I meant" Amélie said from the bed. Of course it wasn't what she meant. "There is a shirt inside. The one I took from you on the freighter, remember?"
Mercy perked up an eyebrow, but said nothing as she searched for said shirt inside the bag. Indeed, she remembered the shirt Widow immediately snatched from her hands when she pulled it out of the bag. She seemed rather protective of it, come to think of it.
After some more digging around, Angela found the grey piece of cotton.
"That's it. Take a look at it." Widow instructed, and Angela noticed how Tracer whispered something into her ear. Amélie's answer was a firm nod, and Tracer giggled silently.
Spreading the grey cotton out her eyes registered something in Mercy, which her brain didn't process correctly.
Imprinted on the front side of the shirt was an old and completely washed out imprint. It showed a large light blue circle framed in gold leaves with a crown on top of it. The British crown to be precise. Inside the circle was a red double-armed cross on a white background. Inside the blue circle, black letters on the top side read 'No. 41 Squadron', and on the bottom side 'Royal Air Force'. Underneath the whole circle with the crown on top of it was a banner with a motto on it. 'Seek and Destroy'.
Oh, that used to be Lena's squadron while she was still with the RAF. Angela thought as she looked at the shirt for a long moment before realization struck and she almost dropped the fabric.
Flaunted right into her face was, indeed, the coat of arms of Lena's old fighter squadron. That wasn't the bad thing. Mercy had seen shirts like this countless times before; she had even worn them on numerous occasions herself. Tracer's wardrobe basically consisted of old air force merchandise. That alone wasn't the bad thing. But it did take Angela a few moments to process that this shirt wasn't found in Tracer's closet. Nor was it one of the shirts the bubbly Brit forgot at Angela's place, or at the headquarter, or anywhere else for that matter.
No, this shirt came straight out of Widowmaker's sports bag. But it was, without any doubt, Lena's. It had the right size. It had aged exactly like all the other shirts she had did. And it...
Hell, it even smelled like Lena.
Yet, it was in Amélie's bag. And it had already been there when they were still on board the Talon ship. It was the only personal item Widowmaker brought along. The only one.
And in that very moment the whole puzzle Angela had in front of her eyes for a time now suddenly clicked together. Each and every confusing piece suddenly came together and created an absolutely clear picture.
And it started months ago. Just like they had claimed.
The phone call Lena gave her in the middle of the night a few months ago asking for help? Someone was shot, but Lena said she couldn't go to a hospital. The woman in Lena's bed that night was none other than Widowmaker.
A few days later, Angela had visited Lena in her London apartment. The message left by a mysterious French woman, written in her native language with lipstick on the mirror? She had called Lena chérie in that message. Widowmaker.
"She is having a bit of legal trouble. It's not her fault or anything..." Tracer told her. Definitely Widowmaker. Though that would have meant Tracer already knew what happened to Amélie. How did she know? Did she... did she take a look at the ancient files no one bothered with anymore?
"I am not doing this for you" Amélie said when she busted Angela's ass out. She didn't understand at the time. But now, Mercy understood perfectly. Widow did it for Lena. To help the best friend of...
"My heart belongs to someone else. For her, I'd go through this hell all over again" ... of her lover.
When they met, for what Angela supposed was the first time, they weren't really hostile toward each other. At least, not the way enemies should be. Lena tried to seem cool, but something had struck Mercy as odd.
When Amélie said she and Tracer did know each other already, her voice was almost soft. She didn't get the chance to say something, but it was part of the reason she decided to give Amélie a heads up about Tracer being a ladykiller.
There was a smile flashing over Widow's lips after she said it. Angela should have noticed. But she didn't.
And now the two of them were in bed together.
Mercy walked right in on them, and the first thing she did was blame Tracer for something Angela had no way of knowing. No way of understanding.
She felt so stupid. Lena and Amélie were an item. How did she not see that sooner? Why did she explode into Lena's face like that? Mercy just wanted to protect Amélie from harm. Just wanted to make sure she felt welcome and was alright. Her expression should have told her everything, but Angela just saw her best friend on top of Widow and immediately jumped to conclusions.
Angela let the shirt sink, and turned around to face her best friend and her lover.
"I am sorry, Lena." she said silently.
"Yeah" Tracer replied with a slightly hurt voice "I'm not that bad, you know?"
"Yes, you are" Widow whispered with a smug smile.
A long and heavy silence spread in between the three women while Angela apparently worked hard to sort through her thoughts. She had a lot to consider all of a sudden as the past weeks and months flashed past her mental eye. Angela was searching for every small hint and clue she could find. It was all there. It all made sense all of a sudden. And no matter how many rules Tracer violated, how many regulations she ignored, and how stupid she had been to maneuver herself in such danger, Angela found herself only capable of asking one question.
"Are you two happy together?" Angela wanted to know, setting the shirt aside. "Like, really happy? Is this what you want?"
"Oui" was the instant reply from Amélie while Tracer just nodded silently with a serious expression on her lips. Silence was the best indicator that Lena was serious about something.
Mercy merely nodded a little sadly. She had absolutely no right to say something against this. Not that she felt the need to do so. It was an odd couple. But Angela could see perfectly how they would fit together.
"You could have told me, you know? Both of you. It's not like I know how it happened, but I think I understand."
"Yeah..." Tracer looked away awkwardly. "You know, I always thought that letting you know would only cause you trouble. I didn't want you to worry."
"I did worry, you dork" Angela shook her head. "You were acting strangely all the time! And Amélie, you could have told me on board that freighter. It would have made things a bit easier."
"We promised not to tell anyone. So, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to reveal this without asking Lena first." There was such unfiltered, almost brutal loyalty in Amélie's voice in that moment that Angela was actually taken slightly aback. The Swiss doctor merely nodded. What was she going to do about those two? What was she going to say?
The look in their eyes, the one Angela had so carelessly missed when she walked into the room, was now standing out a mile. They were more than just attracted to each other. Their whole body language; how they looked at each other every few seconds and how they tried to maintain a certain amount of body contact with each other told Dr. Ziegler everything she needed to know.
Back in London, Mercy thought she understood what was going on with Tracer. 'I love her' the Brit had confessed back then.
And now, finally, she really understood.
"Zarya's grandmother has prepared a breakfast, I'll sneak something up for the two of you, should you want to eat something else other than each other." Mercy smiled, turning to the door. "I won't tell anyone. So, let me know if you need something."
"Thanks, luv" Tracer beamed.
"Sorry again" Mercy replied before she slipped through the door.
There was a moment of silence before Tracer spoke up again.
"She took it a lot better than I expected."
"She blamed you for taking advantage of me" Amélie looked at Lena with a slightly puzzled expression "How is that good in any way?"
Lena just giggled.
"You saved her. And it seems you made it onto her list of people she considers family. Of course she'd chew me out for daring to mess with you. She gives me crap all the time. It's how she is. That's Angela for you. She is hyper protective of those she considers her family."
"You aren't mad?"
"Nah. She's right, you know? I would have seduced you even if I hadn't known you before." Lena smiled one of her goofiest smiles to date.
"And you think you would have succeeded with that, chérie?" Amélie hummed, leaning over to Tracer to capture her lips with her own. Lena gave in for a moment, but then pulled away.
"What do you say we wait until we get our breakfast. I don't want to give Angela another heart attack. Think you can hold back for a few minutes?"
"I make no such promises"
-/-
Watchpoint: Gibraltar, 12 hours earlier.
Morrison had just walked out of his shuttle and into the hangar of the Watchpoint when his phone went off.
He groaned and reached for his device.
"Morrison." he said plainly.
"You ordered a loyal assassin and a decent medical professional to go? Both are packed up and on their way" Reaper's growl betrayed a rather good mood.
Morrison checked his watch.
"What?" he spit.
"Widowmaker busted the blonde cunt out. Surprising, I know, but that happened. She blew the whole freighter and the tank ship, too."
"Holy." Morrison was actually rather surprised, for a moment his fast steps faltered before he picked his usual speed back up. He did not expect that. "I guess Tracer did better work than we thought."
"Apparently." Reaper agreed. "Do you think they will run into your rescue squad?"
"Most likely"
"Good. Then they'll be on their way to you soon enough. Dr. Ziegler is clean. They didn't succeed with her. Widowmaker might be trouble; be careful with her if you want to avoid unnecessary damage. Be careful, but be sure to make it convincing, you know?"
"Yeah. I have something planned. But I do need Ziegler at peak performance soon. Any tips for Widow?"
"She can take a hit. But don't cook her too long if you want to share the loyalty she has for that damn Brit with someone else too. She would have died on that freighter if it meant she could die remembering. It was actually a bit scary."
"And that coming out of your mouth."
"Indeed. Listen, I got a few things you might want to look into. Two things, actually."
"I'm all ears."
"First of all, are you familiar with Katya Volskaya?"
"The CEO of Volskaya Industries, yes. Why?"
"Pay her a visit."
"Elimination?"
"Acquisition. I'll give you the details later. Just say hi and let her know you are there. She will contact you after that at some point, I am sure of it."
"Consider it done. And the second thing?" Morrison wanted to know as he finally arrived in his office. He had to talk rather silently while he made his way through the corridors so no one would accidentally overhear his conversation with Reaper.
"Ah yes, that is where it's getting really interesting. I have been digging around quite a bit and have found some very interesting things concerning the mission."
"I feel major news incoming" Morrison said.
"Indeed. But we'll have to go way back into the past. Listen. Do you remember what caused the first Omnic-crisis?" Reaper asked.
Morrison raised an eyebrow, being a little confused where his old friend was going with this, but he still played along. Reyes would never bring this up without a reason
"The first God-Program named Hephaestus" he replied.
Thinking back to that disaster was something Jack could have lived without. The first god-program known to mankind claimed hundreds of thousands of lives with what it did to the Omnics who, up until that moment, were nothing but a peaceful working force. Until Hephaestus breached through their quantum-encrypted security protocols and started changing the results of certain equations, indoctrinating them with a twisted idea of freedom. A freedom which would only be obtainable by wiping out all of mankind.
Quarantining Hephaestus was the top priority and one of the reasons Overwatch was created in the first place. Yet, this particular task was impossible to achieve, no matter how many years Overwatch has tried to accomplish this goal. The first god-program was not containable. Its networking capabilities and tendency to spread into any device it could find made it the ultimate escape artist. It could restore its entire programming from only tiny amounts of code, which enabled it to hide on basically any device with some form of memory, however small. Keycards, Car-keys, Memory-sticks, ID-chips. Everything could be used.
Containing was impossible, so Overwatch resorted to destroying Hephaestus…which didn't work the way everyone imagined either. As soon as the god-program realized what was happening, it started splitting itself into many sub-programs before it destroyed itself. From then on, various different god-programs started popping up all over the world wherever someone plugged a contaminated device into something with more computing-power.
There were many incidents with these devastating god-programs, some less severe than others. But they all had one thing in common: each time a god-program activated itself the capabilities and the intelligence of the Omnic hive mind in the affected cluster multiplied a thousand fold; as did their pugnacity. The most severe incident in history was the program called Jormungand, which activated itself inside a factory for autonomous defense robots at the German Polish border. The Bastion-units originally developed and built for peacekeeping duties and, for long years, the most effective defense platform against the Omnics turned against their masters in the blink of an eye. Jormungand ripped their core programming apart like it was wet toilet paper, and indoctrinated them with a raging hatred against all humanity. Death tolls were astronomical, rising into the millions after only two weeks despite the fiercest of resistance the German and Polish military put up against Jormungand's Omnics. They didn't stand a chance, even when the German army activated the, up until this day, top secret Crusader-program and sent their genetically enhanced super-soldiers under the command of Balderich von Adler into battle, they were fighting a lost cause. The crusaders were at least able to stand their ground, but driving the Omnics back was impossible; even for them. At the end of the day, the United Nations ordered a tactical nuclear strike which was carried out by the Russian Federation five weeks after Jormungand's activation, ending the crisis with a final death toll of more than four million casualties across central Europe, both civilian and military.
It was hell.
Ever since Jormungand, the incidents with god-programs weren't that horrible. The last case was the Anubis god program in Egypt, where a low level worker accidentally plugged an infected memory stick into the quantum super computer at a secret military research facility deep beneath the Giza Plateau. This fatal action allowed a tiny fragment of hibernating Hephaestus code to rebuild itself, creating Anubis. Luckily, the Helix Security Team positioned at Giza Plateau managed to contain the program before any major catastrophe could develop; at least, if the loss of the entire civilian population of the Giza Plateau isn't considered a major catastrophe. Now, the still running and fully functional Anubis is being examined by experts for artificial intelligence, cut off from all access to the outside world.
Reaper made a sound of agreement. He too remembered the fight against Hephaesus' Omnics. They weren't fond memories, so much was certain. He lost many good men to those damn tin cans. "And I guess you know where Hephaestus came from?" he inquired.
"Well, officially it was written by a Finnish student named Åke Väinö, who had connections to the anarchistic underground. He wanted the Omnics to rebel against the establishment. Essentially, Hephaestus was a self-learning virus for Omnics which got out of hand."
"Yeah" Reaper agreed "That is the official version. Väinö vehemently denied knowing of the program's existence. He also denied having written it…or even having the required skill to do it. Considering how Väinö was a first year college student, his claims seemed reasonable."
Morrison sighed, scratching his head while he plopped down in his office chair.
"If it wasn't for the written confession he signed some hours before he was found dead in his cell because of suicide."
"Precisely" Reaper said.
"We all know the story is fishy, but what are you getting at?" Morrison wanted to know. He still had no idea what Reyes was talking about or what it had to do with their mission.
"Well, in the aftermath of the first Omnic attack vast areas of very resource-rich and now unoccupied territories were bought for almost nothing by a company called 'Clockwork International', who specialized in providing valuable raw materials"
"So, someone made serious money because of the attack. How is that important?"
"Did you know that Väinö was an employee at Clockwork while he was at university? And that they found the Hephaestus code on his work-terminal at home?"
"I didn't" Morrison said "You think they just used him as scapegoat?"
"Of course they did. And when his arguments became too reasonable, and his skills proved to be useless for creating something like a god-program, they killed him and left the written confession"
"But the investigation was led by-" Morrison stopped himself from talking further.
"Overwatch. Indeed. No one had access to Väinö's cell except for five high ranking Overwatch agents, you and me included. Thanks to my little raid on Athena, and the file you so kindly provided, I now have the names of those agents. I will send them to you soon. "
"Are you saying an Overwatch-agent killed Väinö? Why?"
"Well, apart from the obvious money cliché? I don't know. But about that 'Clockwork International' thing."
"I do remember that name from somewhere. I saw it recently" Morrison said, but he could not remember where and in what context.
"Talon's swimming bases have been originally acquired by the same company" Reaper said.
"Yeah, now I remember! The tank-ship waiting at Diskon was also registered under Clockwork. That's right."
"Clockwork International is Talon's legal facade. I dug around, and it's true. They are washing money with it and use it for public interactions. Clockwork is Talon. And that makes another option highly likely; not just the money thing. I doubt any of the Overwatch agents involved would have been corrupt."
"One of those five agents is the mole we have been searching for." Morrison concluded, a light dawning on him.
"Probably, yes. Thing is, apart from the two of us, they are all already dead. At least, as far as we know, You and I were dead for a while too, after all."
"I need the names of the agents." Morrison stated. "I'll see what I can find out"
"I'll send you the list. It's not certain they were the direct source of everything. Maybe someone was acting on orders from the real mole. But if we find out who it was, we might be able to track their contact within Talon. I am sure this will lead us somewhere." Reaper replied. This was a major step in their mission, a major advancement, and hopefully the beginning of the end. All the tiny pieces Reyes and Morrison had been collecting over the years were starting to fall into place. Slowly, but at least they were moving. "I have been granted an audience with the big boss in a few weeks. Maybe I will be able to shine more light onto this matter"
"A personal audience with the head?"
"It sure seems like it, yes."
"Why now?" Morrison asked. He was aware that Reyes tried to get through to the head of Talon for quite some time now, but was never successful. Figuring out who was behind everything was of the utmost importance.
"That I do not know. He said he wanted to speak to me about an urgent affair. I guess his shady master plan we have been working for so hard to make it happen finally comes to an end."
"That is good to know" Morrison nodded, relieved. "Anything else?"
"Not for now" Reaper said. "I'll be in touch."
-/-
A/N:
Alright my esteemed ladies and gentlemen. I know it has been a while since I updated and I wanted to apologize for the wait. Yes, I told everyone that I was going to be busy with University again, but this chapter should hardly have taken so long to come out.
It would have been published weeks ago... If I had liked it. But I actually wrote 4 full chapters of this, before I just said screw it. That is the result. EhMattissimo, my amazing beta, did a lot of encouraging for this, so special, special thanks to him.
"Normal" special thanks to the three angels, Azuki Rose, River Rhyme and my beta yet again ^^
Of course thank you to everyone who is supporting this story the way you all are. I can't tell you how amazing it is to see the overwhelming feedback to this. Keep it up guys and girls, you are all absolutely amazing!
Translations:
Je t'aimerai toujours. Je serai toujours à tes côtés.(French) I'll always love you. I'll always be at your side.
Teufel noch eins= (German) (approx.) Hell
Oh, yes, one more thing. I also decided to post this story on AO3. For reasons I don't understand myself.
I also don't understand who talked me into accepting tips, but hey. Someone did.
If you want to support me and my story, you can do so here:
tipeee com slash e82s-fanfiction