Diskon, Federation of Russia, 30 Minutes until pickup.
"Calm down, chérie. You won't find it like this" Amélie said carefully, watching Tracer dash about the room in a frantic search of something she apparently lost. Widow still hadn't figured out what it even was or why it was so important.
"It's gone. It can't be gone. I need it." Tracer replied hastily, jumping around the room desperately searching for whatever item she was missing. She moved to the bed and began working her way through it, hoping it may be there.
"Maybe if you tell me what you're searching for, I could help you. We don't have much time, you know?" Widow told her. She pushed herself off the small table in the room where she had been waiting for Lena to calm down and began closing the distance between the two of them.
"I know!" Tracer replied, turning away from the bed and apparently intent on searching another place "But I'm not leaving without it"
"Without what, chérie?" Amélie, dressed in her trademark cat suit again moved to intercept Tracer, caching her by the shoulders and turning the girl around to face her. "What are you searching for?" she asked, peering into her eyes.
Lena felt the golden glare on her and couldn't help but stare back at her lover. She took a few deep breaths before she allowed herself to calm down again. Freaking out now would get her exactly nowhere. Also, Amélie was right; if she told her what she was looking for, they could search together. Pointing at her left ear she said "One is missing. One of their rings."
Widowmaker blinked.
"You get this upset over one of your earrings?" she asked in confusion. She wasn't really used to the whole normal world outside of Talon; outside of only being released for killing people and then being put through memory-reconditioning every two month. Normal things were rather new to Amélie. They felt familiar, but she didn't remember most of the time. Despite that, even to Widowmaker, the loss of an earring didn't seem to be a world-changing event. You could always buy new ones, no?
Lena shook her head, looking really depressed.
"They aren't just any earrings. They aren't even earrings to begin with" she stammered "I... I... They are all that is left of them." The memory of what happened was an old, but well-healed scar. Nevertheless, it still hurt like hell to think back to that fateful day. She inhaled sharply, trying to maintain her composure, and actually managed to barely pull it off, despite her trembling jaw and burning eyes. She didn't like thinking back to that day. That day a long, long time ago.
"Lena? You ok?" Amélie asked, guiding the younger woman to sit down on the edge of the bed before she sat next to her, one hand carefully draped around her back, the other gingerly touching her thigh.
Tracer looked at her hands for a long moment before she opened her mouth and, without even thinking about it, she started telling Amélie one, if not the most, private detail of her life.
"I got them from my parents... In a way, I guess. They were their wedding bands. From my real, biological parents; not my adoptive parents." Lena said and paused for a moment. She hadn't told this to anyone apart from her best friends, and Angela was the only one she still had contact with who knew. Even most of her few previous, serious partners didn't know. Lena just always thought it was nobody's concern. Yet, for some reason, she wanted Amélie to know. And so, she told her what happened when she was still a little girl. When the ever-cheerful Lena Oxton was still nothing but an overexcited kid, her bright and eventful future nothing but a distant vision. A vision no one would have ever dreamt of.
Widowmaker thought of how to respond, but she couldn't come up with anything. She didn't know, of course. She saw how it affected Lena and really wanted to feel with her, but Amélie couldn't. As much as she tried, she couldn't remember her own parents if her life depended on it, let alone the feeling of having parents in the first place. The French lady just squeezed Lena's thigh in a reassuring manner, hoping it would be enough.
"When I was five years old my parents had to move. I can't remember where anymore, but it was rather far away. My father had packed everything we had into the car and wanted to get going early in the morning, but something came up. No idea what it was, but for some reason we started our trip around midday. My papa was driving the entire way, and it was beginning to get dark. We were driving through the night, but I wasn't worried. I remember not being worried, because my father was a really good driver. That's what everyone always said. My dad always did the driving. Everyone liked going with him. So, I wasn't afraid or anything." Lena pressed out a sad laugh, which sounded a lot like a painful snort.
"Our car got hit by a drunk driver on the highway exit. The driver of the other car mistook the exit for the entrance. He crashed right into us. His car started burning, I remember. I was in the backseat of our car, desperately trying to wake my mother up. She didn't wake up. I started yelling at her, shaking her, punching her even. But she didn't wake up. I yelled at my father and he did regain his consciousness. It took him a moment to process what happened. Looking back on it, he was the calmest, bravest man I have ever seen. He told me to look at him, and only him. He said I needed to stay calm and that mommy would wake up soon." Lena inhaled sharply, feeling thick drops of tears building in her eyes and falling down over her freckled cheeks. She remembered that moment so clearly, like it was only yesterday. Her father was her idol when she was younger. She always wanted to be like him. He was the kindest soul, always there for everyone, always doing what he could for those who needed him. He didn't deserve what happened to him.
"Of course, she didn't wake up. She was already dead. The entire engine smashed into the passenger compartment. She didn't stand a chance" she choked. "But I didn't know that back then. I didn't understand it either. Hell, I was five years old. I hardly understood what had happened. A few other motorists had stopped in the meantime, and my father yelled at them to free me out of the car. The fire from the other car had spread to ours. The front was already engulfed in flames. But I didn't want to go. I refused to leave my mom asleep in the car. I kept telling them that my mother was not waking up and that they needed to help my dad. They had to force me out of the burning car." Lena's voice faltered.
"I... I had to watch while my father burned alive inside that damn car" Lena whispered, slouching her head. "I thought I heard my father scream for a moment. The firefighters arrived two minutes later, but it was too late."
"I'm so sorry" Amélie whispered. She felt horrible for not being able to feel for Lena. She just couldn't. Widowmaker was unable to understand why Tracer was so terribly sad. Talon took that ability from her a long time ago. All she could do was feel terrible because Tracer did. Lena was important to her and she was hurting. That made Amélie, in return, feel almost the same pain. Not knowing what she should do otherwise, she pulled Lena into a gentle hug.
"I was just standing there. Alone. A girl whose family was taken from her in the blink of an eye. The emergency doctor who arrived on the crash site first took me in afterwards. He and his wife had lost a daughter in the chaos of the Omnic wars. So, he gave me a new home and a new family. A few weeks later he sat me down on the kitchen table and told me that he had something for me. He gave me the rings of my parents and made me promise to always look out for them. To always protect them so I never forgot who they were and where I come from." Lena smiled sadly "My parents didn't have a lot of money, you know? Their rings were only gold plated. It burned off in that fire. So, they're silver now. It's all I have left of them."
"Why do you wear them as earrings?" Amélie wanted to know, causing Lena to choke out what could have been a cheerful laugh if the memories weren't so painful.
"They didn't fit onto my tiny fingers when I got them. But I wanted to have them with me at any time. He made me promise to look out for them, after all. I put them in the same ear so they'll always be together," she explained, reaching up to her ear and removing the single remaining one of her two earrings. Turning it inside her fingers for a moment, she gave it to Amélie "That one was my mothers." she told her.
Widow turned the ring around. It really was a very simple ornament. But on the inside, it had a sophisticated inscription 'Your Thomas. Wherever and Forever.'
Wherever and Forever. These words left a sting in Amélie's heart. It reminded her a lot of the bond she felt for Thomas Oxton's daughter.
Before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door. Not a moment later, it opened and Mercy quickly slipped inside
"I hope you are both decent" she announced.
"Oui." Widow rolled her eyes when Mercy simply let herself in. It wouldn't have made much difference if they weren't.
"What are you two up to?" Angela wanted to know, walking up to Lena and Amélie sitting close to each other on the edge of the bed. Her eyes fell on the ring in Widow's hand, and she noticed that Tracer's ear lacked two of her most distinct features. She also noticed her puffy eyes and how she quickly moved to wipe away her tears. "Oh" was all Mercy said. She was well aware of what her best friend's earrings meant and what they really were.
"I lost one" Lena said, like she had lost part of herself.
"Did you have it yesterday evening?" Angela wanted to know. Tracer nodded. She was relatively certain that it had been still in her ear yesterday. "Then it should be somewhere in this room, ja?" Mercy concluded, putting a finger to her chin in a pose that reassembled Sherlock Holmes in a rather striking fashion. "So, no time to waste. Let's search it. Lena, you take the bathroom. I'll take this half of the room" Mercy gestured toward the portion with the bed in it "And Amélie, you take the other one" she said. Widow raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.
Mercy hesitated for a moment, contemplating her plan once again.
"Ok, we switch. You take the half with the bed in, I take the other half." she announced.
-/-
Widowmaker walked into the lobby a few minutes later, wearing a smug grin and carrying her black sports bag. She had left Angela and Lena after the latter had found her missing ring in the bathtub. Coming to think of it, the place of discovery was hardly surprising. They did have quite a lot of fun in there today. Not only the massage, but also what came afterward.
Mercy did blush a little when Tracer screamed that she found her precious ring in the tub. Apparently the implications weren't lost on the Swiss doctor. Still, Tracer was beyond happy that she got the precious memento back.
Angela had suggested that one of them might want to go ahead so things would be less suspicious. Since Amélie had her stuff already packed and was ready to go, she gave Lena a quick peck on the lips before she left her and Angela. The Swiss doctor had an almost motherly smile on her lips when she saw the sweet and innocent interaction between her best friend and the woman who was her enemy turned savior turned friend.
It was a good thing that Mercy, after overcoming her initial shock, seemed to absolutely support Lena and Amélie's relationship. It might have done them some good that Widow was the one who busted Angela out from Talon's claws. At least it did wonders to Angela's trust of the former master assassin. Widow was glad this was the case. She suspected Tracer would have been devastated if her best friend disagreed with her relationship with Widowmaker. The French hitman doubted Lena would have left her because of it, but it would have made things considerably more difficult.
Now, all Amélie had to deal with was the hostility of the other Overwatch agents. A hostility she didn't doubt she would get to feel no matter where she would go. She didn't care. Lena was the only one who had an opinion that mattered.
And that made Amélie smile internally. It only showed as a grin on the outside when she entered the lobby of the old hotel in Russia. McCree and Genji were already there, the former reclined in one of the comfy chairs, his cowboy boots on the table in front of him and his hat covering his face. The latter was standing in front of the large glass window, gazing outside into the cold, clear winter morning. Out of the corner of her eye, Amélie noticed Zarya standing in front of the reception, talking to her grandmother. The old lady gave her a nod and a warm smile. Widow returned the nod.
"Bonjour" Widowmaker said for everyone to hear as she put her bag next to all those which were already gathered in a corner of the lobby. A few black kitbags containing the equipment Tracer and her comrades brought along for the rescue mission…none of which were needed.
McCree lifted his hat with a finger and eyed Widowmaker walking over to a specific chair she seemed to have taken a liking to. It was in the corner of the lobby, providing a good view over the entire perimeter.
"So, you really do tag along now?" He asked lazily. It seemed artificial, as there was a certain tension in his voice.
Widowmaker fixed him a glare with her cold, golden eyes. She had that particular look down perfectly. It was really intimidating how she could stare daggers at someone. McCree didn't look away though.
"Oui" she said coolly.
"Listen, I'll just say this now so we are clear, lassie." McCree started, putting his legs down from the table and leaning forward. "I don't trust you. Never will. No idea what you did to get Angie to like ya, but I sure as hell won't follow on that. I have my eyes on you, Widowmaker. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, for Angie's sake. But make no mistake. One wrong move, and I will end you. Ya got that?"
Amélie smirked.
"And you think you got it in you, cowboy?" she asked, not in the slightest inclined to bend her will to anyone other than Tracer.
McCree just leaned back again.
"Guess we'll have to find out one day. And that day will come. You'll betray us again like you did before." he said, and even though he looked relaxed, he didn't sound like it at all. Not one bit. There was a hurt shimmer in Jesse's eyes as he continued. "He loved you." McCree said, not needing to specify who he was talking about. "And you murdered him. Talon's fault or not, I don't care. Gerard was my friend and I'll never forgive you for your betrayal."
Gerard.
Amélie's eyes widened for a moment. Her body felt cold and there was an uncomfortable pull on her soul, her hands and fingers growing numb like the blood inside just froze.
An evil smirk. Glistening green eyes filled with fury and hatred. A rough hand around her throat. She cried for mercy. He was all over her. Disgusting. Humiliating.
"You don't know anything about him!" Amélie hissed. She had said it before she knew why, but suddenly she felt herself growing angry. Emotions weren't usually her thing, and seething rage was one of the emotions she had lost a long time ago. Rage made you sloppy. And a sloppy person makes for a lousy sniper. Talon beat that notion out of her rather quickly.
Then why was she feeling like her insides were about to explode now? She wanted to rip out McCree's throat for apparently no reason. Amélie didn't understand what infuriated her so much. Was it the insinuation that Gerard cared about her? But why did this make her so angry? It had to do with the horrible feeling she got upon hearing her former husband's name. But she couldn't remember why.
All she got was unexplainable fear, feeling alone and stuck somewhere she couldn't escape from.
"Oh, I know more than enough for my part." McCree said dangerously low.
"Enough, Jesse!" Tracer said loudly, storming into the lobby followed by Mercy who walked over to Amélie. "Leave her alone" Lena ordered the cowboy in a bossy tone, but did nothing to acknowledge Widowmaker in any way. Not wasting a second so he couldn't reply, she went on. "Time to get going, everyone. We're all packed up and the shuttle is waiting for us a bit outside the city. It's time to go home. Let me quickly thank you all for coming with me. Even though we didn't get around to doing what we came here for, I still wanted to thank you all for your help. And I mean everyone here in this room. Including Widowmaker, who was doing our job." she said, giving her lover a professional nod of gratitude without any further acknowledgement.
"Alright. You heard the lady." McCree announced, getting up from his chair "Get your shit and head out." he apparently dropped the matter of Tracer telling him to leave Amélie alone altogether. He said what he wanted to say anyway. No point dwelling on it further. It wasn't like he didn't want to believe that Widowmaker could have changed sides. He just didn't believe it. She had been deadly loyal to her husband in the past. She was full of devotion for him. And then she murdered him in his sleep. It didn't matter what Talon did to her, she could not be trusted anymore.
McCree had no idea what really happened.
He would have not wasted another thought about his 'friend' if he knew. He would have talked differently.
But McCree had no way of knowing.
And since Amélie couldn't remember, she had no way of telling.
Jesse tossed Zarya two kitbags before she grabbed one for himself and left with the Russian weightlifter. Genji picked up a bag as well, and Widowmaker took her own. Then, no bags were left anymore.
Shrugging at how she apparently didn't need to carry anything, Mercy zipped up the coat from Talon, the only article of clothing she kept simply because it was rather comfortable and really warm, before she winked at Tracer and Amélie, leaving the hotel.
"I see you are whole again" Widow stated with a slight bemused tone, looking straight ahead.
Tracer touched her ear with a slight blush.
"Yes. I'm glad I found it."
Widowmaker smiled.
"Merci" she said, obviously talking about something else. Her eyes where wandering out the door.
"Huh? What for?"
"Making him stop talking." Widowmaker said as if it would explain everything. Tracer just nodded. She was aware that this apparently was a rather delicate matter. One day she would have to talk about it with Amélie, but today was not this day.
Lena grabbed her girlfriend's hand and held it tightly in her own for a moment, completely forgetting that Zarya's grandmother might see, before she let go again. It didn't matter to her. She wanted to touch her girlfriend before they headed back to Headquarters. Who knew what would happen then? Who knew how often they could see each other? Maybe Morrison wouldn't like the idea of a Talon assassin running around their base freely.
"Vy dvoye takaya milaya para. Vsego nailuchshego." Zarya's grandmother said, walking past them with a knowing smile on her lips.
Widowmaker hesitated for a moment, apparently slightly taken aback by whatever the old woman told her, before she uttered a shaky "Spasibo" with a slightly shy nod. She let go of Tracer's hand, albeit reluctantly, and picked up her own bag, before she went for the front door.
"You speak Russian, luv?" Tracer gaped.
"I speak lots of languages, chérie" Widow replied with a proud smile.
"Oh, wow! I have such a smart girlfriend!" she cheered. Amélie just kept smiling, not wanting to tell Tracer that it had nothing to do with her being smart or anything. The knowledge was just crammed into her head by Talon, whether she liked it or not. "What did she say?"
"Mhh, wouldn't you want to know?" Widow teased as they left the hotel, following the others. They were already a little bit ahead, but that was fine with Tracer. It meant she could have a little bit of privacy with her lover.
"Of course I want to know. Don't be mean to me! Tell me!" she pouted playfully.
"She called us a cute couple and wished us all the best."
"Awww"
"She is a wise woman, indeed" Widowmaker hummed, deep in thought.
"Hang on, Blueberry. She knows?"
"She saw us in the lobby"
"Shite."
"It's not like we are going to see her again, oui?"
-/-
Ten minutes later the small group who set out to Diskon to rescue their one and only Dr. Ziegler arrived with the woman they wanted to bring back plus the unexpected extra at their taxi. The Orca shuttle sent to pick them up was sitting in a frozen and snow-covered field next to an abandoned street which possibly had seen its best days decades ago. The various potholes and cracks were either filled with frozen water or sprouted dead plants.
The Orca, the name originating from both its large, whale-like silhouette as well as the black and white coloring, had its optical cloak down and the side loading bay open. An Overwatch pilot was sitting on the ramp, enjoying a cigarette and a cup of coffee. He waved at the agents approaching the shuttle.
"Someone order a taxi?" he asked with a smirk on his lips, snipping his cigarette into the snow.
"Depends. How much to Gibraltar?" McCree asked. "Ya know, we ain't exactly rich and all that."
"Ah, no worries, mate. No worries. First tour of the day is on the house. Come on board, you all." The pilot laughed and waved them into the belly of the Orca. McCree and Genji walked past him, followed by Mercy and Zarya.
"It's good having you back, Dr. Ziegler." He said with a very respectful nod. One could see the admiration in his eyes as Mercy was about to walk past him. She stopped for a moment to look at the pilot while Zarya proceeded to walk inside.
"You seem familiar. Do I know you?" Angela said to him, and the man's eyes lit up even more. He would have never thought that she'd remember.
"You do, Ma'am. I'm Captain Kava. The last time you saw me my face was covered with blood and dirt. I was shot down during the battle of Stuttgart. You saved me that day, Dr. Ziegler. I can't fly fighters anymore, but that's fine. I still breath. I wanted to fly the shuttle today and come pick you up as a way of saying 'thank you'."
Mercy actually beamed at him for a moment, her expression carefree and genuinely happy. She did remember him. Angela remembered each and every patient she ever had. "I am glad you are doing fine, Captain Kava" she said. Turning her head over her shoulder to check if she was the only one still outside, Mercy saw Amélie and Tracer standing in the field a few meters away from the shuttle, both of them appearing to be frozen in place as if they were trying to listen to something.
Dr. Ziegler frowned. What was up with them? Was this an intimate couple-bonding moment she shouldn't interrupt? Somehow it didn't look the part. Not at all. There was no ever-so-faint smile on Widowmaker's lips, and Tracer's eyes weren't glued to her lover anymore.
Captain Kava cleared his throat.
"Not to be nosy, Dr. Ziegler, but the lady standing next to Agent Oxton. Isn't she...?"
"She is" Angela sighed, the expression of the pilot growing confused "It's complicated. She was the one who freed me from Talon and got me to safety. I promised her a secure place to stay. So, she comes along with us."
"I see." Kava nodded, far be it for him to interfere with the plans and ideas of the higher ups. Hell, he was a glorified taxi driver, not the head of medical research, like Doctor Ziegler, nor the protégée of the former Blackwatch boss, like McCree, and surely, no matter how much he ever wished to be, not the great Lena Oxton, the pride of the Royal Air Force, ace-pilot and youngest test-pilot in the history of aviation turned highly successful special operations agent.
No. Their minds worked differently from ordinary people.
"Hey! What about you two-"
"Shut up!" Tracer hissed at the pilot, raising a hand to stop him. Her voice was sharp and on edge. She turned her ears into the wind, closing her eyes. "We need to go! Now!" she yelled, and pushed Widowmaker in the direction of the shuttle.
Angela didn't quite understand, but not a moment after Lena had said this, the air was filled with a loud roar and two pitch black, sleek looking fighter-jets darted past them over their heads. One of them had a huge deep red symbol painted onto its lower side.
Talon.
A moment later, a larger shuttle, rather similar to the Orca, followed the two jets.
Kava tossed his plastic coffee mug into the field and turned on his heel, racing to the pilot seat in the shuttle and preparing it for launch.
"Buckle up, boys!" Lena yelled, pointing at Zarya, McCree, and Genji who were getting comfortable on the small couch corner in the shuttle. "We have company." she added, happy to see that Mercy and Amélie were already sitting in two of the eight safety-chairs the shuttle provided, lowering the retainers.
"Anything on their position?" Lena asked, racing to the spacious cockpit. It was meant for a whole crew of people, not just one pilot. Overwatch was seriously lacking personnel these days.
"Three contacts. Two are proceeding toward Diskon, one is making a turn and coming back." the Pilot replied as the Orca's engine howled and rapidly began lifting the Shuttle into the air. They all were pressed into their seats with quite some force. "Hard contact in 20 seconds."
"Cloak?" Tracer asked, gripping the pilot's chair tightly so she wouldn't lose balance.
"Not working during full throttle." Kava replied tersely. That was when Lena pulled on his shoulder. Roughly.
"Scoot over" she ordered, taking his seat and immediately pulling the throttle-lever back to minimum. Her quick and skilled fingers danced over the console in front of her, and the fuselage of the aircraft began to shimmer for a moment before it was completely gone, the cloak masking the large shuttle from prying eyes and most conventional detection technologies like radar.
"What are you-" doing? The pilot asked in the exact same moment one of the jets raced past them, sending a shockwave through the shuttle.
"There he is" Lena smirked and accelerated the shuttle, apparently pursuing the fighter. She immediately felt at home. Flying used to be her life, and now, the joystick firmly in her hands again, Lena realized how much she missed it. Her body and mind immediately returned to the old habits of a pilot. Within moments, Lena had various situations and possible maneuvers for many scenarios laid out in her mind. It took her one glance at the Talon jet to know what model it was and which capabilities it probably had.
"What the hell are you doing?" Captain Kava stared at Tracer. "We need to get out of here!"
"We do that and we're dead. That guy is flying a latest generation MiG. Those beauties come with nasty surprises for us" Lena smiled a wicked grin as she pulled the shuttle through a tight loop, following the fighter at a dangerously short distance slightly underneath it and slowly creeping closer. "I'd say they didn't spot us yet. Otherwise, they would have all come after us. They thought something was here, so they sent one to check it out." Tracer explained. "Soon they are going to-"
A loud beeping warning sound was emitted from the shuttle's consoles, various displays shifting from their normal readings to an alarming red. Tracer's fingers danced over the consoles, hammering commands into them.
She was right with her assumptions.
"Yep. There it is. He's brandishing around with his phase-detectors. Of course he is." she smirked. "The only safe place for us now is right on his tail. It is the only place in a radius of a hundred miles where the system will fail to detect us. If we stay closely underneath his hot exhaust gases, the system will mistake us for literally hot air." she explained. "Though this won't work forever..."
"Of course it won't!" Kava squealed. He was experienced, and had seen his fair share of stupid maneuvers, considering himself to be a decent pilot, but what Lena Oxton was trying to pull off here was nothing short of suicide. It was madness! They were flying a freaking shuttle, meant for transporting stuff, hot on the tail of a brand-new fighter jet; one of the best in the world. That thing had the advantage on them absolutely everywhere except for the number of passenger seats…which didn't help much in a dogfight. Of all the stunts which would most likely get you killed, this took the cake.
"What's happening?" Angela asked, carefully daring to walk into the cockpit. The first thing she saw was the metallic ass of a fighter-jet right in front of their window, so close it seemed to touch the transparent glass. Then, she noticed Tracer concentrating hard while obviously piloting their shuttle and the original pilot simply staring, his face as pale as the snow they just escaped in Diskon.
"This woman is insane!" the original pilot exclaimed "You can't stay this precisely on his tail. One slight slip and we are spotted!"
"I can." Lena simply stated "We did it in the Air Force all the time during training. Trick is to watch his elevators and rudder very carefully." she explained "Luv, you go and sit down again, this doesn't necessarily have to work. He turns too tightly, we are spotted. I don't want you to fly around in the inside of the shuttle while I pull a Maverick."
"A what?" Angela asked.
"Top Gun?"
"What is a top gun?"
"Seriously?" Tracer wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't take them off the jet in front and slightly above them. "We need to have a movie night one day. Now sit down again, please." Lena pleaded, her voice plain and focused despite the jesting context of her statement. Her mind was somewhere else. She was talking on autopilot. The real Lena Oxton was doing what she did best in her life: Flying.
Mercy quickly returned to her place while Tracer was already planning five steps ahead. What would she do in this situation if she was flying the MiG? A few things came to mind, none of which were particularly favorable for the Orca-shuttle.
The beeping on the console stopped, and Kava sighed relieved. "They gave up." he said while the fighter in front of them turned a tight corner to the right, a direction leading him back to Diskon. Tracer pulled on the joystick in her hands and forced the shuttle to follow the tight corner the fighter dictated. It was barely within the turn radius.
"Agent Oxton?" the pilot asked.
"It's a trick" she replied, her voice tense "Basic 101. Just you wait. He'll switch that thing back on in a minute."
The second passed painfully slow, and Lena was visibly tensed up while the fighter jet in front of them was flying a perfectly straight line at a suspiciously low speed. Something was terribly wrong. Tracer felt it itching in her bones. Every fiber of her fighter-pilot self told her this was not what it seemed like. She had been flying for the better part of her adult life and she was the best of the best the Air Force had to offer. Lena knew when to trust her instincts. Now was that time.
"What do we have in terms of offensive equipment?" Lena asked the pilot.
"Err... nothing" he admitted.
"Bollocks..." Lena sighed. The odds weren't in their favor yet again. Just as usual, it seemed. If the pilot of the MiG would do what Lena thought he was about to do soon, they needed to get rid of him…and fast. But without any offensive equipment, they were at a severe disadvantage. The only thing they did have on their side was their massive size, which theoretically gave them an advantage for a ramming maneuver. But Lena didn't want to risk that just yet. The other thing they had on their side was an ace-pilot and the world's greatest sniper. Lena might have an idea. "Amélie?!" she yelled into the passenger compartment.
"Oui?"
"Come up here. I need you." Tracer exclaimed. A few moments later she heard the metallic clicking of Widowmaker's heels on metal floor.
"What do you want?" Widow asked, her voice full of professional coolness.
"See that jet there?" Tracer pointed out of the window. She just hoped the MiG-pilot would be a patient predator. If he pulled the stunt Tracer suspected he would now, they were screwed.
"Hard to overlook, non?" Widow replied.
"If I do a barrel roll over him, can you land a shot on the pilot out of the side door?"
"What!?" the pilot gasped.
"We don't have time for this. Can you do it?" Tracer urged.
"Seems doable" Widowmaker shrugged. She had landed more difficult shots like this before, like when she shot Mondatta mid-flight, while falling off a building. The shot was lined up perfectly and would have gotten both the Omnic monk as well as Tracer if the latter wouldn't have reversed time.
"Grab your rifle and get in position! Hurry!" Tracer said, and Widowmaker turned on her heels to hustle back into the main area of the shuttle, preparing her rifle. "On my mark."
"What on earth are you doing?!" the pilot screamed. "This is madness"
"He is playing hide and seek. This is a psycho game, luv" Tracer explained "If I were him in this situation, I'd turn my sensors off for a minute or two and just fly a straight line, making my prey think I gave up, tricking them into changing course. Then, I switch the scanner back on and pull the tightest corner my machine can do. My prey would light up like a Christmas tree should they still be hiding on my tale, because they can't react fast enough to follow."
Lena brought the Orca sideways to the fighter, getting in position for the barrel roll she was planning. "You hit the radio-jammer as soon as he switches on his sensors again. I don't want him to report his finding"
"Of course" the pilot nodded.
"Ready, Amélie?"
"Oui." Her reply came immediately. Widowmaker was standing in front of the still closed door, her grappling hook fixed to the other side of the Orca's interior to prevent her from being sucked out of the shuttle once the door opens. Her rifle was already in sniper mode.
Lena had a very close eye on the fighter jet next to them. She could see the pilot already. It was like she was seeing right into his head in this moment.
Her hand slid to the door-opener.
"Any second now. C'mon. Do it, luv. I know you want it." she mumbled to herself as if she could somehow do telepathy. Her eyes were narrow, and her slender body went tense. It had been a while since she felt her own heart beat against her ears like this.
"C'mon..." she whispered under her breath.
A second passed.
The enemy pilot began to shift in his cockpit.
Another second.
The console screamed the alarm sound yet again.
"Now!" Tracer yelled as she slammed the door-opener down. This, of course, immediately dropped the cloak of the shuttle, revealing it to the Talon-pilot.
Just as Lena predicted, he had planned to do a tight turn. But suddenly there was a huge Orca right next to him in exactly the place he wanted to turn to.
Lena pulled the shuttle in the closest possible roll over the fighter at a moment's notice. It happened so incredibly fast, a bystander might have thought the events occurred simultaneously.
The deafening sound of the wind whipping past the now open door filled the shuttle which rolled over the enemy. The noise was unbearable, and the storm outside was pulling painfully on everybody's hair, the inside of the shuttle feeling like a hurricane all of a sudden.
Widowmaker saw the door opening. Her scope had already found the approximate location of the enemy pilot in his cockpit.
Her breath slowed down. Her perception of time turned reduced to a fraction of reality. She felt the shuttle turn over the Talon MiG.
The red crosshair of her rifle immediately found it's place right on the Talon-pilot's head.
She waited until the shuttle had reached the highest point, her body hanging freely off the wall on the other side.
Amélie pulled the trigger. The sound of her rifle being fired ripped through the shuttle only muffled by the immense noise of the storm and the roar of jet-engines.
Tracer rolled the Orca around the shuttle and immediately threw her head around to check the Talon jet.
It was still following its original path, with the only difference being that the insides of the MiG's cockpit were now covered in red liquid. Tracer closed the shuttle door again and enabled the cloak.
"Target eliminated" Widowmaker announced.
"Nice shooting, luv!" Lena yelled, turning the Orca around and programming a course to the Watchpoint at Gibraltar.
"Merci!" was the loud reply.
Kava had lost all color in his face. "That was the most insane stunt I ever saw."
-/-
The following flight from Diskon back home was an uneventful one. The interruption in the beginning aside, it was a smooth ride. A long one, yes, but also a quiet one. It was much appreciated by everybody on board. No one felt like more stress than they already had was really necessary.
Tracer had given the Orca back into the hands of the original pilot a while ago and had gone to join the others in whatever they were doing. Genji, Zarya, and McCree were playing a friendly game of cards against each other. Widowmaker feigned disinterest, but Lena saw right through her. Amélie didn't feel confident enough to engage in social activity. It was something she wasn't used to yet. Something that might have even scared her a little bit. Tracer gave her gorgeous lover the space she seemed to need.
Mercy was sitting on the same table, but had her nose buried in medical dossiers. Hers and the ones from Amélie. She said she wanted to work through them while she had time. Lena gave up telling her best friend that she was working too much. It never changed anything. Maybe Angela just needed to occupy her mind with something. But were her own medical files from Talon the right thing to busy herself with? Questionable, but Angela's decision at the end of the day.
That was maybe two or three hours ago.
Now Lena just returned from taking care of some necessary bodily functions. She walked down the few steps of the shuttle into the main room. Widowmaker was leaning back on the couch, her breathtakingly long legs resting on the couch, her body leaning against the backrest, and her head on top of it. Her otherwise piercing golden eyes were closed. She was clearly fast asleep.
A smile tugged on Lena's lips as she saw the beautiful assassin sitting there, her face relaxed and her posture so innocent like never before. It was a strange picture, given the situation, and Lena was actually rather surprised that Amélie allowed herself to fall asleep in this environment. But apparently her girlfriend was more fatigued than Lena had anticipated. She didn't know that Amélie didn't go back to sleeping after Tracer had woken up from her nightmare and got that wonderful massage from her French lover.
Right now, Amélie could have been Sleeping Beauty. Lena had to resist the urge to snap a picture of her girlfriend on her phone. It would have been a stupid idea, but hardly the first stupid idea she would have had. Before Tracer knew it, she had already reached for her phone and took a picture of Amélie sleeping on the couch in the Orca anyway.
Taking in the sight for a moment longer, Lena noticed that Amélie moved her arms slightly around her own body in a careful hug. A slight shiver ran through the blue skinned woman. Tracer quickly moved to grab a standard military blanket. It was navy blue and made of wool, with the Overwatch emblem on it. By no means was the thing soft or overly comfortable, but it could certainly serve as a blanket. Carefully draping it over Amélie's sleeping form, Tracer made sure that she didn't wake the assassin up.
"Whatever you are thinking, Lena, don't do it." McCree's voice said from behind Tracer. She spun around and came face to face with Jesse. He had taken his cowboy hat off and, indeed, did look kind of concerned. "She is our enemy no matter what she pretends" he said in all seriousness.
"Oh, rubbish!" Lena rolled her eyes, but McCree shook his head and placed both his hands on the smaller girl's shoulders, his gaze fixing Lena.
"Lena, listen. We've known each other for a long time. We've fought together, and we've bled together. You've always had my back and I've had yours. So, trust me on this one. I know she's your type of girl, and I know you want to get to know her. Don't. Lena, trust me on this one. She will only hurt you like she did with her husband. She killed the man who loved her. He was my friend, you know? Gerard didn't deserve it, and neither do you. You'll end up like him if you get involved with that... woman. We don't know why she is really here. It smells fishy. I don't like it." McCree's voice was calm, but imploring. He lacked his usual laidback way of talking, and his accent was almost gone. Hadn't Lena already known Widowmaker before, and had she not seen what Lena did see, she would have listened to his advice. He was only careful. Maybe a bit over the top, but at the end of the day, McCree was only looking out for those he called his brothers and sisters in arms.
"Jesse, I know you mean well. I know you are concerned that this is one of Talon's plots." Tracer said, moving his hands off her shoulders "But think about it for a moment, ok? What kind of plot would that be? Widowmaker blew up one of their freighters and the tanker as well. She also came to Diskon with a woman Talon captured before. They ran into us in Diskon by sheer luck. Widow didn't know we were there, did she? She also didn't know we wouldn't shoot her on sight. She also doesn't know that Morrison won't lock her up forever once we are back at the Watchpoint. Face it, luv, it would be a horrible plan for placing an assassin. And Angela will be checked thoroughly before she gets to go back to work. This is either the worst plan ever made, or it's just two women running away from their horrible fate. Now what seems more reasonable?"
"Still."
"McCree, we are talking about the Widowmaker. She just shot the pilot of a fighter jet, while I did a barrel roll over his machine, clean in the head. On the first try. With a cold rifle. And she saved our sorry asses in that moment. Not only mine. Or Angela's. But yours as well. We had nothing to get out of that situation on our own, and she opened us a window to fly through. And now that same woman is sitting on our couch here wanting to leave Talon." Tracer had to swallow the sour lump in her throat when she spoke these words, because there was literally no motivation for her to support any of this. But it was still a legit reason. Just not hers. "Their most valuable asset, the best sniper the world has ever seen, wants to come to us? We would be a special kind of stupid to turn her down. And let's say she is done with killing, and murdering, and shooting, which, heaven forbid, I wouldn't hold against her for even a second, she wouldn't do all these things for Talon anymore. Their most dangerous weapon is simply... gone."
"I…didn't see it like that before" McCree stated.
"I bet you haven't. We should give her a chance. Maybe she'll surprise us." Tracer rolled her eyes, giving Jesse a nod.
"One way or another" He mumbled, turning around and proceeding to do whatever he was about to when he caught Tracer draping the blanket over Amélie. Lena waited until McCree was gone before she checked with one final glance if her girlfriend was indeed alright. She was still sleeping soundly.
"I love you so much" she whispered for only Amélie to hear.
Turning around to go and check on the pilot, Lena saw Mercy looking at her with a warm, yet sad smile on her lips before she turned back around. Tracer decided to talk to her friend instead.
The doctor was standing at the Orca's transparent side ramp and turned back to watching out into the puffy clouds racing past them when she noticed Tracer walking over to her.
"I haven't seen you smile like this in a while" Angela said silently, making sure their conversation wouldn't be overheard by anyone else.
"To be honest, I never was this happy before in my life." Lena replied honestly. "I just wish people would give her a chance. Not that I expected it. But it's already starting to unnerve me hearing that she is dangerous and will kill us all at the first chance she gets" Lena snorted "Please."
"Well, I guess she really is dangerous. At least to anyone but you, Süße."
"Funny, luv. Funny." Tracer sighed.
"Don't worry about Jesse. Once burnt, twice shy, you know? He never got over Gabriel's betrayal."
"Yeah, I know." Lena said "I just hope Morrison is easier to convince that those sick bastards didn't mess with that smart head of yours and, well..." Tracer's voice trailed off, but her best friend understood her nevertheless.
"He'll allow her around," Mercy nodded.
"What makes you so sure about that?"
"Well, either that or he can search for a new head of medical research." Mercy smiled, though it wasn't her usual one. It was tired. Her eyes lost a spark that usually never left them.
Lena laughed, and they fell into a deep and long silence, both of them looking out into the sky, marveling the beauty of the world beyond the clouds, the warm colors of orange and yellow. It was mesmerizing.
But Angela wasn't really watching. Her thoughts were somewhere else. Not here. But somewhere.
Tracer had a bad feeling.
"You ok, luv? You seem a little out of it."
Mercy apparently didn't hear her best friend at first. Lena was about to say something again when the doctor snapped out of it.
"Huh? Oh, yes. No. I am alright; don't worry." she said.
"Riiiight" Lena repeated, eyeing her best friend and immediately figuring her out. She should have noticed sooner, but for some reason, Lena didn't. "I don't buy it for a second. You know that you can always talk to me, right? I know you, Angela. You don't have to pretend to be strong. We all know you are."
An invisible string was tightening around Angela's throat as she turned to look at Lena. Of course she wouldn't be able to hide it for long from Tracer. It made sense. They knew each other like no one else did, and Lena was anything but stupid. Naturally, her best friend would notice that Mercy wasn't fine. That the last days were weighting heavily on her, the memories of what happened cutting deeply into her mind. When she was alone, Mercy sometimes felt Montgomery's touch on her bare skin. Or she smelled his revolting stench. She wanted to tear her own skin off when this happened.
Angela had no idea how she managed to live through this hell. Actually, that wasn't true. She knew exactly how she did it. She did it because she owed it to Fareeha who died for her sake. It was what kept her going. What encouraged her to fight whatever Talon did to her and never give in. Maybe then Pharah's sacrifice would mean something. The idea that her death would have been in vain was unbearable for Mercy. The mere thought of letting Fareeha down steeled her mind and body, giving Angela the necessary strength to withstand Talon's assaults on her.
It still felt so real. Even now that she was standing in an Overwatch shuttle, in safety, far away from where Talon held her, the place it happened in destroyed and sunken to the ground of the freezing ocean, it still felt like she really was still in Talon's hands.
"Come here, luv" Tracer said, and pulled Mercy into a careful hug. She saw her best friend's eyes water and lose focus. Her expression shifted, and she started to wrap her arms around herself. Lena knew what was going on in Angela's head. She knew.
"It's over, ok? Everything is fine again. We're going home and, soon enough, it will all be but a distant memory of the past."
Mercy buried her face in the crook of Tracer's neck, holding the smaller woman tightly for a long time. She needed the contact and the reassurance that this was, indeed, reality and not another fleeting image projected by her mind. When she had been tied to that chair in Montgomery's torture chamber, she started seeing things after a while. The more he assaulted her body and mind, the more Angela saw people who weren't there. Or, more precisely, one person who wasn't there. Before Widowmaker came and offered her an escape, Mercy saw an image of Fareeha keeping her company toward the end. The Egyptian wasn't saying anything; she was merely standing there, watching in silence, as if she was judging Angela, silently encouraging her to not give up.
Mercy knew that Pharah wasn't really there. Of course she knew. She had seen her being executed by Talon.
Fareeha Amari would never be anywhere again.
And Dr. Ziegler blamed herself for it.
"It's my fault, isn't it?" she said after a while, letting go of Tracer.
"What's your fault?" Lena wanted to know, cocking an eyebrow. She had no idea what her best friend was talking about.
"That they killed Fareeha. I should never have taken her with me. It was only because she insisted on personal protection for me. If she wouldn't have come along, she'd still be alive."
Lena felt like someone punched her in the stomach with a bat. How could she forget to tell Angela about this!? What was wrong with her? She reached out and placed her hands on Mercy's shoulders
"First of all, nothing of what happened is your fault! You hear me? You don't know what would have happened. And secondly, Fareeha isn't dead, ok?"
"I saw them shooting her in the head." Angela pulled back from Tracer and looked at her with a puzzled expression. How was that possible?
"They found a tube of your nano-probes next to her and applied them. It saved her life. She is in a coma, but alive and stable for now. With your help, she'll be alright in a jiffy." Lena smiled.
-/-
Watchpoint: Gibraltar, 1437 hours, medical wing.
This was Angela Ziegler's domain. Her kingdom. The area she had been working miracles in for years and years. The sickbay still contained her spirit as if she had never left and was just getting coffee or something. Her black marble desk was tidy as usual, only a few important documents for her trip to Zürich lying on top of it.
It didn't feel right without the blonde doctor running around, caring for everyone and about everything. If Overwatch was actually a big family, Mercy would definitely be the mother of them all. She watched over the merry lot, like the guardian angel her Valkyrie suit so appropriately resembled.
Yet the Swiss doctor wasn't there. Not yet.
Jack Morrison was standing in front of Dr. Ziegler's desk, dragging a finger over its clean, cold surface and was wondering if the plan he made for her and Widowmaker would suffice. It had to. He needed Mercy, and he also needed the assassin. Even if the latter was only meant for the long run, she was still extremely important. Listening to Reyes' advice, he decided it would be best to treat them both with the necessary caution, just like he would have done otherwise. The fact that he knew that Mercy was perfectly fine was a bonus. It would help to accelerate the coming events where they had to officially confirm that she, indeed, was fine. Preferably in a way everyone believed. Widowmaker, on the other hand, albeit being deemed trustworthy for now, was still a big question mark. Morrison had to be careful around her. The only thing they knew for sure was that the French assassin would listen to Tracer. And only Tracer. Which meant they had no idea what Widow would do if she felt herself in any kind of danger.
Morrison rubbed over his temples, sighing heavily. If he was honest with himself, he had no idea what he was doing. Like... none whatsoever. He was just stumbling forward at this point, trying to hold on to a meanwhile really old plan, trusting that it would lead them to victory in the end. When Reyes and him started this mission, he really didn't think it would blow out of proportion like this. It couldn't be helped now.
"Sir?" Winston's deep voice asked, the steps of his heavy body making the floor tremble ever so slightly. One could feel the giant gorilla walking.
"What is it, Winston?" Morrison asked as he turned around. The monkey scientist was adjusting his glasses. In the background, two Overwatch agents carried a lifeless body in a life-capsule into the sickbay, all under the very watchful eyes of Reinhardt. The female form was covered with a blanket, only her head stuck out on top of it. Her eyes were closed, and her face seemed peaceful. The transfer of Fareeha Amari was finally completed. The injured Egyptian arrived at the Watchpoint and would be put into one of the bio-beds which would keep her vitals in check until Dr. Ziegler could work on waking her up.
The people carrying Fareeha walked past him and went to work on getting her set up. They were followed by Reinhardt who had an empty, horribly sad expression on his face. His body seemed to move on its own, like the German knight wasn't really in there anymore. No one dared to ask any questions out of respect for an unspoken truth everyone knew but no one ever talked about.
"You have to sign this, please." Winston handed Morrison a clipboard with a form on it. Jack quickly skimmed over the paper - standard medical transfer stuff - and signed it.
"Something else?" he mutterd.
"Yes. The shuttle which was sent to pick up Dr. Ziegler, Tracer, her team, and the Talon assassin called Widowmaker will arrive shortly. As stated by Tracer's preliminary field report, Widowmaker expressed a desire to defect to our side. You wanted to be informed about this. Sir. In my opinion, it is a bad idea to grant one of the most dangerous assets of Talon access to our base no matter what she pretends to want."
"We discussed this already, Winston. We'll be careful. When will they arrive?"
"I believe in about ten minutes." Winston replied.
"Very well" Morrison nodded and turned away from Angela's desk, walking out of the sickbay. "I want a security squad at the helipad. Just to be sure."
"Certainly, Sir."
"Did you find a suitable doctor to evaluate Dr. Ziegler?"
"I did." Winston said, following an almost running Jack Morrison down the corridors. "Dr. Giuseppe Laguardia. He studied psychology and applied medicine at the University La Sapienza in Rome. Graduated summa cum laude almost twenty years ago. Multiple awards for merits during the Omnic crisis. Currently, he is operating an office in Venice. He developed a new kind of trauma therapy and-" Winston was interrupted by Morrison raising his hand.
"So, he is good?"
"The best we could find for what we need." Winston confirmed.
"When will he be here?" Morrison wanted to know.
"Given the fact that Overwatch is currently an illegal organization, we have to be careful. I sent agent Shimada - Hanzo, of course, not Genji - to make Sapienza a good offer and convince him to join our endeavor. I also told them to be careful with what they tell the doctor, but it should be enough to spike his interest."
"That wasn't an answer, Winston"
"Apologies, Sir. We are probably looking at a week at most."
-/-
A/N:
So, that's it for today.
If you want to support me and my story, you can do so here:
tipeee com slash e82s-fanfiction
I kind of didn't get as far as I wanted to get, but that's fine. Next chapter I guess we'll see how Widow is welcomed at the Watchpoint and what happens there.
Thanks for everyone who is following, adding favorites and of course reviewing! You guys and girls rock!
Also, special thanks, as usual, to the my three angels!
I feel like I have forgotten something important... mhh, can't remember it. Oh well...
Alright, I hope I'll see you all in the next one :) Due to being crazy busy these days, chapters do take me a bit longer than usual, I apologize for that.
o7
E82