Newsflash: Tension between Omnics and humans has reached a new peak. Following the assassination of the Shambali monk, Tekhartha Mondatta, a few months prior in Kings Row, another Omnic rights movement turned violent yesterday evening in London. Police reports 438 casualties, so far, but claim the situation has been brought under control. Details are not revealed as of yet, but well informed sources are speaking of an electromagnetic pulse bomb being used by local authorities.
The public uproar demanding an immediate abolishment of the Petras-act and re-activation of Overwatch and all connected programs has been yet again met with silence on behalf of the UN high command. The popularity of the "Peace for People - Bring Back Overwatch" movement grows.
Thiery Savant, currently running for the post of General Secretary, used an impromptu press conference to promise that during his term such outbursts of violence against humans will be met with the full force of the United Nations' military arsenal. He, yet again, pointed out that the re-activation of Overwatch could be one of many useful and effective ways to go.
In current polls, Savant has overtaken the current general secretary Lilith Royce by two digit percentages. Little seems to stand in his way of his assumption of office early next year.
-/-
9 days later:
To say that this wasn't what Widowmaker expected would be wrong. She knew they wouldn't welcome her with open arms. They would have been total fools if they did. No. This was what she knew would happen and Amélie also knew that, deep down, Tracer knew as well. It was hardly surprising on top of being the only logical choice for Overwatch.
Minutes prior to their shuttle landing at one of the helipads at the Watchpoint in Gibraltar, Lena told Amélie that no matter what happened, she had to stay calm and play along for now. The bubbly Brit promised her lover in a very serious tone that no matter what turn the upcoming events would take, Tracer would take care of it. One way or another, to the best of her abilities, and to their advantage.
Widowmaker had silently agreed to that, moments before the shuttle-ramp opened and they were welcomed by half a dozen of soldiers and the former commander of Overwatch, Jack Morrison.
One could see that he wasn't liking the situation at all. Not one bit. He had informed them that he intended to follow protocol for these matters to the letter even if he was aware of the special situation they were in.
Widowmaker had stayed silent while Morrison explained that she and Mercy would be arrested for the time being. Tracer had protested, claiming that there was no need for solitary confinement, but Morrison's decision had been made. He explained that it was only a temporary solution until the mental stability of both Widowmaker and Mercy could be confirmed. They were waiting for a specialist to arrive at the time; someone who would be able to evaluate said stability. If the specialist would clear them, they were both free to go and Amélie would be allowed to stay at the Watchpoint for the time being.
Widowmaker wasn't surprised. Not really. Though the entire situation on the helipad had been uncomfortable, it wasn't unexpected. Everyone was kind of just standing around, not knowing what to do. At least Morrison didn't outright distrust Widowmaker, and while she was certain that he considered the possibility of this being one of Talon's tricks, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. he gave her a fair chance to prove her claims that she was here because she wanted to get away from Talon. After all, Mercy's and her entire escape story was too improvised and too sloppy to count as a convincing Talon plan.
Tracer had been the one who brought Amélie to her cell, followed by half of the soldiers Morrison had brought with him. They seemed to be rather uncomfortable with their job. Their tension was clearly visible. Maybe they feared that the infamous Widowmaker would try and escape. Amélie was certain that the other half of the security personnel which was accompanying Mercy to her cell was nowhere near that afraid. Then again, they had that huge Russian bodybuilder with them, too.
It could have been a lot worse; Widowmaker knew that. She didn't complain. They were being careful, which was absolutely understandable. Besides, she wanted to be here because of Tracer, not because she had secret plans. If that meant sitting around in a light grey cell with an orange glass wall providing a breathtaking view over the strait of Gibraltar, so be it. The sun was flooding her cell with warm light, and the ocean below her was glistering. There were worse places to be right now. Much worse places. Like, for example, a Talon ship. If Overwatch considered this a cell meant for keeping prisoners, Amélie was definitely curious how a normal quarter looked.
Maybe she would find out soon enough. She smiled fondly at the thought of spending some quality time with Lena in her quarters. Talking the night away among other... things.
Until then, it was just the same old waiting game. Waiting for the specialist to arrive and to do whatever the man needed in order to somehow prove that Widowmaker was indeed here because she wanted to be and not because she was ordered to kill all of Overwatch.
Amélie didn't look forward to meeting the doctor who would evaluate her. Not at all. It gave her nightmares just thinking about it.
She had talked to Tracer about this fear many times since she had arrived at the Watchpoint, and the Brit had always calmed her down again. But Widow couldn't help it. Whenever her thoughts drifted toward her inevitable appointment with some guy who would dismantle her mind and analyze the way it worked, she felt herself sucked back into one of Talon's laboratories. She got cold and tense. She got that lingering sense of imminent danger, and that urge to run away. Yes, she was scared. Not that Amélie remembered a lot of what Talon did to her; they made sure of that. But she did recall fragments. It was enough. Doctors and laboratories scared her. She didn't want to experience anything similar ever again.
But this was Overwatch and not Talon. Tracer told her time after time again that she was safe here. That Overwatch never did, nor would ever, run experiments on humans like Talon did. No one would hurt her. The doctor would most likely merely talk to her. Maybe take a blood sample. He would not strap her to some chair, like Talon did, and he would most definitely not probe her skull open to stick instruments inside her body. Nor would he fill her system with chemicals. Amélie was afraid of these things happening. And she told her lover. Reluctantly, at first. She didn't want to burden Tracer with her horrible past, but Lena was supportive and understanding. She held Amélie close, whispering calming, sweet little nothings to soothe her, and eventually Amélie just spilled a lot of what happened in Talon's laboratories. At least the fragments she remembered.
Tracer held her tightly, pressed against her warm body, her hands stroking gently through Amélie's hair. She told Widow that nothing like that would ever happen again. She told her that Overwatch wasn't like that. That they would just ask some questions. And Amélie, curled up in a ball on Lena's lap, believed her lover. She wanted to. Things would be fine again. Lena was right. They brought her back from the Slipstream accident, too, without hurting her. Besides, it wasn't like Amélie had much of a choice here. Widow wanted to be with Lena so badly, she almost needed the Brit like some kind of addictive drug. She didn't tell Lena that.
A week of waiting and then one examination. One. Amélie had survived worse. Much worse.
What was a week in the grand total of things? Nothing. Amélie was a patient woman. Besides, it wasn't like she was alone all the time.
The metal door leading into the small cell Widowmaker had been occupying for the last nine days opened. Just like it did every day. And just like every other day, it was Lena who stopped by to pay her a visit. She looked sad, just as usual, waving a shy "hello" before closing the door and walking over to Widow's simple bed. The two lovers looked at each other for a long moment, and Amélie tried to smile as best as she could.
No matter how often Widow told Tracer that she was fine, Lena felt guilty for her situation. The bubbly Brit thought it must've been terrible to be kept like this, confided in this small room. She couldn't understand that, for Amélie, it was fine. It really was. The small cell had everything Widowmaker needed. Even more than the room Talon gave her ever offered. For example: a window. Or a real bed. With an actual mattress. Not just a cold, hard metal cot. It had a shower with hot water; not just cold ice. It even had an actual small closet instead of just a simple clothesline. The closet was empty, save for two of her catsuits and, of course, Lena's shirt. They didn't give her any prison gear. Morrison made it clear that she should think of herself more as a guest than a real prisoner, and he told the guards to behave just like that. They tried their best. Despite clearly being scared of her and her reputation as a ruthless killing machine, they were rather polite and at least attempted to be friendly. They even asked if she wanted something to read or let her decide what she wanted from the day's cafeteria menu. Hell, she could leave the cell if she wanted to. All she had to do was ask one of the two guards positioned outside to let her out and she could go for a short walk outside…accompanied by said guards, of course. She didn't do that so far, and not because she was certain the poor blokes might just shit their pants if she did.
Truth to be told, Amélie felt a lot more free in her cell than she ever did in her quarters back at Talon. She also was fairly certain that nothing inside the cell would trigger some hidden programming Talon left in her mind coming with nasty surprises. Nasty surprises she had witnessed before. Like when she almost killed her lover in Numbani. Twice. So far only Lena had been able to snap her out of those artificially induced compulsive acts. Better not push her luck when Lena wasn't around.
"Heya" Tracer said, sitting down next to Amélie on her bed. She reached for her hand and gently took it into hers, leaning closer to her lover. Amélie immediately felt the smile on her lips spread. She could feel Lena next to her, smell her scent, and experience her touch. Her heart slowed down, a comfortable warmth spreading into her body. She imagined this was what peace would feel like. Like only the two of them existed in the entire world.
"Aren't you worried what the guards might think if you come and visit me every day?" Amélie asked, the question suddenly popping into her mind. It hadn't bothered them the last seven days.
Lena suppressed a giggle and shook her head. "They are different ones each time. Also, I visit Angela as well." she told her.
"Now I'm jealous." Amélie jested with a teasing wink. She knew that she would never need to be envious of Mercy. Ironic, considering what happened because of how jealous she used to be of Mercy in the past. She should have talked to Tracer and not jumped to conclusions. But she didn't. Who knows what it was good for.
"Don't be. You get me way longer than she does." Tracer purred into Widowmaker's ear. The warm breath against her skin made the French assassin shiver with delight as she leaned closer to Lena, letting her head rest on Tracer's shoulder.
"Is that right?" Amélie hummed, feeling Lena's fingers run up her hand and around her wrist. She left hot trails on her cold skin. The spark of life it sent into her body was meanwhile expected, welcomed, yes, almost needed.
"Of course." Lena giggled "But believe it or not, I didn't come because of that."
"Non? What did you come here for then?" Amélie murmured with a sultry voice and a wicked grin.
"Not that either!" Lena shook her head with a bright laugh. "You're terrible! No. this is actually a professional visit; I'm here on orders."
"Oh, such a pity. I was actually getting excited" Amélie teased with a smirk. "But I'm curious. What's the matter?"
"I just walked Angela back from her appointment with the specialist. Doctor Laguardia…we talked about that before" she said carefully, being totally aware that this was a delicate matter for her girlfriend. Amélie just nodded. "He arrived a few days ago and is now settled in. He read through the files you brought back and checked Angela to see if she was alright."
"And?" Widowmaker wanted to know. If this were going to be bad news, she didn't know what she'd do. She liked Mercy. Not in the same way she liked Lena, obviously, but Amélie felt a certain trust toward the Swiss doctor. Which was strange, considering her occupation.
"Well, the final results will take him a while. But, so far, it seems fine. She was allowed to move back into her quarters already. Maybe in a few days we'll have definite answers."
"That's good news, isn't it?"
"It is. I think." Tracer nodded "Well... you know that's kind of the reason I'm here. Since Mercy is already done, it's kind of your turn, actually. I came to pick you up."
"Oh? Ok. Already?" Amélie paused for a moment and Tracer nodded silently. "Lead the way, chérie."
"One more thing." Lena said, keeping Widowmaker close for a moment "I know how you feel about this whole doctor thing. You don't have to put on the tough guy act. I know it. And I know how difficult it is for you. But..." she hesitated. "I can't stay with you. I already tried to stay with Angela and I was kicked out, so..."
Amélie nodded slowly "How bad can it really be?" she asked with a shrug. The answer was really bad. Widowmaker had experienced what scientists and doctors were willing to do on her own body and mind. She didn't like the idea of facing another doctor she didn't know on her own. Even if it was an Overwatch doctor. The mere idea of being at a doctors mercy again was unsettling. She could manage with Lena at her side, simply because she was the only one who could calm Amélie down, but without her? A cold shiver ran down her back and Amélie knew that nothing good would happen. "Lena, I don't like this" she whispered, "I'm just..." scared.
Lena leaned closer to her girlfriend and gave her a tender kiss on her lips. "It's alright. We've been over this. Just relax. Winston told me Dr. Laguardia is one of the best in his area. You don't need to worry about anything. I would spare you this whole ordeal if I could, but Morrison insists."
"I know. But people messing with my head..." Amélie started, and Lena squeezed her hand to reassure her that things were fine. She knew what her French lover was so afraid of, and she couldn't really blame her. To Amélie the few memories she still had left or the ones Lena helped her regain were her most precious possession. She was dead afraid to lose them again. "I know" Lena said softly. "Not going to happen today."
-/-
Dr. Laguardia had taken Mercy's office for the time being. It was the same sunny and warm area Tracer's best friend usually worked in. The six sick beds behind her desk were empty. Fareeha had been moved into the laboratory a few days ago to better tend to her needs. As soon as Mercy would be cleared for service once again, she could assume her old position as the head of Overwatch's medical department and start to work on bringing Pharah back.
Giuseppe Laguardia was careful to not disturb Dr. Ziegler's office too much. The only thing he added to Angela's heavy black marble desk was a small golden picture frame containing his wife and daughter. He knew that he would either go back to Venice as soon as Dr. Ziegler returned - and she would be back, he could tell that much even now - or move to another office. Overwatch, though being illegal, had a certain allure; one he didn't expect. He wouldn't mind staying, should they make the offer.
The first case he worked here was the most interesting he had in his entire career so far, and he had been doing this job for quite some years. Mercy was definitely interesting to work with. She had an impressive grip on her own mind, allowing only memories of small portions of what happened at Talon at a time. She had the mental strength to continue on pure willpower while she handled her experiences and spoke with Dr. Laguardia about them. Very impressive, indeed, and nothing like any other patient Giuseppe had ever worked with. She was extraordinarily rational, logical, and analytical in her thinking, doing most of his work herself while she spoke. Angela talked about her emotions and feelings before she immediately evaluated them herself, putting them into an objective perspective. It was almost like she had two halves: the logical one and the emotional one. The rational one was the one constantly fact-checking what the emotional side wanted to do.
That alone was interesting enough to work with. Dr. Laguardia basically just took notes of Mercy's evaluation of herself, simply because he concurred with Dr. Ziegler's self-diagnosis. They both agreed that she would need time to fully come to terms with what happened at Talon. They also both agreed that it would be best for Angela to go back to work in a familiar environment as soon as possible. It would help her heal better than holidays and being left alone with her thoughts would. Giuseppe suggested to meet once a week with Angela so they could discuss her progress, which Mercy accepted gladly.
And while working with Angela was definitely something new, Dr. Laguardia actually looked even more forward to the next patient. Her files alone were... fascinating in a rather intimidating sense. He had no idea how to evaluate the psyche of someone who was subjected to such intense brainwashing time after time again. Her experiences must have been beyond personality shatteringly horrible. Anyone in their right mind would have come to that conclusion from merely reading the files. Giuseppe couldn't even begin to imagine how her life must have been like. He got really uncomfortable from merely reading the details. The fact that there were people who studied the same subjects he did and took the same oaths he took who were willing to take part in such experiments made him feel shame for his entire line of work. Giuseppe suddenly had a personal interest to prove that not all psychologists were monsters. He knew that he would need to be very careful with Widowmaker; very kind, and very gentle. He wanted her to feel welcome in his office. She needed to talk to him.
He had no idea if this would be enough. How do you bring a woman, who had seen nothing but abuse the past years from people she didn't know, to trust a complete stranger? That was the question Laguardia had been asking himself quite often the last few days. He had been tasked to search for signs of forcefully altered behavioral patterns. The problem was: Giuseppe was very much certain that he would find more than enough of those patterns. She had been stripped of everything that once made her human, subjected to excessive torture and highly experimental, absolutely amoral body alteration therapy, not to mention obvious brainwashing and memory cleaning. The fact that Widowmaker still had some sense of self left after all those years was absolutely mesmerizing.
Agent Oxton had provided some video files and mission reports for him to watch. She told him it would give him a good insight into what really happened to Widowmaker and would maybe help him understand. She warned him that the files were not for highly sensitive people and that he better watch them before eating. Laguardia thought she was exaggerating. How wrong the good doctor had been. He managed to look at exactly twelve seconds of mechanical arms cutting along the spinal cord of a suspended, yet not sedated, woman, before he had to turn it off again. Her screams before she finally passed out would probably haunt his sleeps till the end of his days.
Her mind had been altered. There was no discussing this. She had been altered to serve Talon's purposes. Yet, she had worked against them, freed a valuable target for them, blew up one of their swimming headquarters, and sought refuge at Overwatch. She was doing this on her own…at least, she most likely was. But had she regained enough control over herself again that she could be trusted to be here? That was what he wanted and had to find out. Somehow.
Now, he was looking over some of his notes again, waiting for his next patient.
He had written down some key points he wanted to discuss with Widowmaker... or Amélie... hell, he wasn't even sure how to address her in a way that wouldn't upset her. Would it even upset her? Would she dislike being called Amélie because it was too personal? Or would Widowmaker upset her because it was the name her tormentors gave her? The more he thought about this, the less prepared he felt.
His time of thinking this through came to an abrupt end when someone knocked on the door. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would be the toughest session he'd ever have. "Come in" he called out, paying close attention to sounding more positive than he felt. The door opened, and the first one to enter the room was a stunning woman with pale, purplish-blue skin and golden eyes. She was wearing a skin tight bodysuit, her arms crossed over her chest. She quickly looked around in the sickbay for a moment before she proceeded further into the room, followed immediately by Tracer, who was also the one closing the door again.
Widowmaker was more breathtaking in person than the doctor would have ever imagined. To think that someone this beautiful could be equally deadly.
"Ah! Buon giorno!" Laguardia greeted happily from behind his desk, a warm smile on his lips. Dr. Laguardia was a small man, and he definitely had a taste for good food, at least judging from the size of his belly. He wasn't fat, but he did have a few pounds too many. He was wearing a frameless pair of glasses and a charcoal suit. His head was almost bald, and his grey eyes were old but spread wisdom. "I've been waiting for you." he said, getting up from his, or more accurately, Dr. Ziegler's chair and walked around the desk.
Widowmaker took another moment to look around the room a little more closely. It was half office, half sickbay, with lots of high tech medical equipment standing around in the background. Equipment that drew her attention. Equipment that felt too familiar. The most prominent one was the large glass tube in the middle of the sickbay, right behind a free-standing shelf serving as a room divider. She knew that device too well from Talon. A cold tingle rushed into the back of her head, but Amélie forced it away. This wasn't Talon, she reminded herself. Nothing here was even close to how Talon had been. The room was bright and friendly. There were large windows, letting in the bright sun, and the temperature was comfortable.
But Amélie didn't feel comfortable. Not one bit. As soon as her eyes fell on the equipment in the background, another painful sting rushed through her body and she felt a cold shiver creep under her skin.
'Lena told you it'd be alright. She is always right. Everything will be fine.'
Amélie blinked twice, pushing the feeling of distress to the side. She was stronger than that…at least she told herself she was. She wouldn't allow her past to rule who she was. Lena told her that. She also thought that Amélie was stronger.
"Ms. Oxton, we have been over this before. Sessions between a doctor and his patients are confidential." Laguardia said warmly. Widowmaker glanced over her shoulder and quickly found Lena's eyes. They exchanged a brief glance at each other, one that struck Giuseppe as a little odd, yet he couldn't place it.
"Well, I'll leave you two. Guess it's none of my business. Treat her well, Doc." Tracer said, giving the doctor a nod. Turning around she sought out Widowmaker's eyes again for but an instant. Her lover wasn't comfortable here. Lena knew that before and she could tell the moment they walked into the sickbay, but there was nothing she could do against it. This needed to be done, and it was for Amélie's own good.
'I just hope she'll be fine' Tracer thought as she left the sickbay again, letting a sigh escape her lips. She just stood there, outside the closed door of the sickbay, for a long moment, maybe a minute, Tracer didn't know. She was just kind of frozen in place, as if she knew that she should stick around for a bit longer.
"Everything alright, Ma'am?" one of the two guards, which accompanied her from Widow's cell to the doctor's door, asked. They had been waiting outside.
"Yeah, everything's fine" she laughed it off, even though nothing was fine. Not really. This shouldn't stress her out so much, but for some reason it really did. Lena just wanted to be done with it all.
That was when a loud crashing noise was heard from inside the office.
'Great.'
"You wait here" Lena ordered, as she darted back inside the office.
-/-
Amélie stood there in the sickbay a few steps away from the desk. She felt the temperature drop inside the sun-flooded room, something which should not have been possible.
Dr. Laguardia tried his best to seem friendly, but Widowmaker hardly noticed him. He was but a distant blur while her mind was rapidly pushing into a direction she didn't want it to go. But the more she struggled, the stronger her mind pulled.
"I took the liberty to read your file. It was quite a mess, I have to admit that." he said, walking over to his patient. That got her attention immediately. Her eyes were fixed on him, carefully watching his every move like a cat observing her prey.
She tried to look uncaring, but Laguardia was selected for this job for a reason, and this reason wasn't because he was nearby at the time. He was good at his job. Some may even have considered him one of the best. He knew Amélie only pretended. He could tell just by looking at her, her body language, and her posture. She looked lost. Scared. Alone. Her stance was defensive, and he could tell that every muscle in her body was tense.
Tense and scared was not a mood he wanted his patients to feel around him. He had always prided himself on a warm and friendly relationship with all his patients. It made it easier for them to open up. He wanted them to feel welcome. They all were welcome, after all, for as long as they needed. He took all the time in the world for his patients. It was an important part of his therapy to provide a peaceful, safe environment. A relaxed patient was much more likely to open up. A tense one, however, wasn't. Tenseness was a sign for anxiety or fear. Or, what Laguardia didn't know in the case of trained fighters like Widowmaker, the body preparing for either attacking or defending itself. And no matter how you twist and turned it, you did not want Talon's former master assassin to mentally prepare to attack you.
"Let's start with what I should call you. I don't suppose Widowmaker is a good name, si?" he asked.
Amélie didn't acknowledge him. She didn't react. Laguardia nodded to himself. He didn't suppose this would be easy, though he had hoped she would at least talk to him. "I want you to know that I'm only here to help. I'll do my best to fix this situation and get you out of this mess, va bene?"
Widow only heard tiny bits of what he said. Her head started to hurt and her eyes were burning.
Despite standing in a sun-bathed, warm room, the scene was suddenly turning dark. Everything shifted inside Amélie's mind. The colors lost their brightness and the faint smell of disinfectant in the air got more and more prominent to a point where it was almost stinging inside her nose. She wasn't at the Watchpoint anymore, but inside a dark, metal room. There was a doctor as well. He was also small and his skin a tad darker. He could have been Arabic, or Greek. Definitely Mediterranean. He smirked at Widowmaker in an diabolical way.
"Your file is the same mess you are. I can't believe you are still walking. We need to fix you."
He laughed and grabbed her at the shoulder, yanking her toward a chair with leather straps on the armrests. Amélie wanted to scream, but she couldn't. Her body was tensing up even more, unwilling to comply to her brain's commands anymore.
"Sit down and shut up."
She blinked.
There was a hand on her shoulder.
"Why don't you take a seat so we can talk for a little bit?" Laguardia asked with a friendly smile.
Widowmaker didn't see his face. His smile wasn't the one he gave her. It was the malicious grin of the Talon doctor.
All Amélie noticed was that her body was working again. Her field of view narrowed down. She felt her slow heart hammering against her ears as the adrenaline in her system began rushing into her veins like barbed wire, working its magic. Thanks to Talon her reflexes and instincst were honed to make her the perfect killing machine, they conditioned her animalistic instincts to take control and make her enjoy the kill, the violence whenever the situation arose. They made sure that in case of doubt, Widowmaker would always go for the kill and never back own.
Now was such a moment.
She was alone. In danger. . They were going to rework her again. Amélie heard a voice screaming at her, yelling to get the fuck out. To run away for as long as she still had the chance. For as long as she still remembered why she wanted to go.
Don't allow them to take your memories again.
Something inside her snapped.
She had grabbed Dr. Laguardia's hand on her shoulder and spun him around faster than the poor doctor could have blinked. In a fluent motion, Amélie had snatched a random pencil off the desk, stepped behind him, and was about to slam it into the doctor's throat. Twisting the doctor's arm behind his back she held him defenseless in place, pressing him against the desk, threatening to break is arm while letting the pencil dig into his larynx.
"Dio mio!" he managed to exclaim, followed by a painful groan as Widowmaker twisted his hand even further. She was breathing heavily, her heart beating way faster than it should, and she had trouble concentrating. The scene she was seeing kept shifting between the sunny, warm sickbay usually occupied by one Angela Ziegler, and the dark, intimidating laboratories somewhere deep inside one of Talon's bases.
She heard their voices. Their whispers.
How they manipulated her.
Doctors.
Scientists.
It was so confusing. Where was she? Her whole body was screaming at her, warning her of the potential danger. She felt the urge to run away as fast as she could, but at the same time, she knew she needed to stay.
She needed to stay because of Lena Oxton. That was why she was here in the first place. Amélie knew that, she remembered. It was crystal clear in her mind. But that was the only thing she knew for certain.
Widow needed to go. She needed to find Lena, get to her, and run for her life.
Or did she? Yes? Yes? No? She had no idea where she was anymore. Whether this was Talon, Overwatch, or someplace else entirely. She didn't recall how she even ended up in this room, and it didn't help that the damn thing changed from one moment to the next. Couldn't it just stay the same damn room for a minute or two?
Amélie got so far, she wouldn't allow this to happen again. Her head was hers. She wouldn't let some doctor mess with it more.
Kill him! Run! Grab Lena and make a beeline for it! Away from here! Just leave! We aren't safe here. We have to-
The door was suddenly opened and slammed shut again as quick steps hurried over to where Widowmaker was about to slice Laguardia's throat in half with a pen. A pen was as good a weapon in her hands as a spoon was. It didn't matter. She could have disposed of him in more than ten ways without even needing anything but her hands. Her mind was made up. This wasn't Overwatch. She was back at Talon. Somehow.
"What's going on?" Tracer's voice called. "What are you doing, luv!?" Tracer gasped as her eyes fell on Widowmaker's back. The Brit could see every little muscle move underneath that spider tattoo of her lover. She held Laguardia in place in front of her, pinned between the desk and the assassin. Amélie wasn't talking to Tracer. She didn't even realize it was her girlfriend speaking. She just heard a voice.
"Let me go! I don't want this anymore! I don't want this! Let me go, or I'll slice your throat, you hear me? Run your experiments on someone else! I'm not your plaything anymore! This ends now!" Widowmaker hissed, her grip on Laguardia tightening.
"Madre santissima! I don't want to do anything to you! Please calm down! I'm just here to help, per favore!" The doctor implored, while Lena approached her girlfriend carefully from behind. She was quick to put two and two together. Tracer had been in a similar situation before. This was like in Numbani. Amélie was seeing things. Things that weren't here. Horrible memories of her past. They were so powerful and so awful they were forcing their way into her consciousness and completely overwhelming it.
"Amélie?" Lena asked softly. "Amélie. It's alright, you hear me? Everything is fine. Let him go. I'm here, luv."
Lena's voice was only a faint ringing in Widowmaker's ears. It felt familiar.
"Leave me alone!" Amélie hissed.
"No!" Lena shook her head "Never. I promised you, remember? C'mon, Blueberry. Come back to me."
For a moment, Widowmaker blinked and she was back in the sunny sickbay in Gibraltar. She looked over her shoulder and there was Lena Oxton right in behind her. The woman she had fallen in love with. She tried to smile.
Maybe her mind wasn't made up.
"Chérie?" Widow whispered in disbelieve. The sun was shining warmly on Lena's hazel hair, making it shimmer, her brown eyes glistening with an emotion Amélie couldn't read.
This wasn't Talon. It was warm and sunny and... there was Tracer.
"Let him go." Lena stepped closer, and gently placed a hand on Widowmaker's; the one that was holding the pen to Laguardia's throat. "He just wants to help you, remember? You are safe here. No one is going to hurt you." Lena said carefully, pulling Amélie's hand away from his neck. "Give me the pen, ok? Everything will be fine again, I promise." Lena said, gesturing Laguardia to duck out of Amélie's embrace now that it was loosened…which he did immediately.
That was the second Widow's scene shifted back into the Talon chamber. The pen as a weapon now gone. Her hostage was gone. She had lost her advantage. She needed to get out of here! Now! Lena's face turned into a big blur, and Amélie freaked out again. With a move faster than light, Widow lashed out at Lena, sending them both stumbling backward. Lena fell to the ground, taking Widowmaker with her. Now rid of a weapon, the Talon assassin quickly wrapped her hands around Tracer's throat and began to choke her.
"You aren't real! None of this is. Where am I? What's going on?" she hissed in despair, the panic and fear she felt dripping from her croaky voice.
Lena gasped for air, but did nothing to interrupt Amélie. She just wrapped her arms around the other woman's waist, looking deeply into her eyes.
"I love you, Amélie." She choked. "I love you. Please come back. You are safe here. I promised you... I..."
The words Lena spoke echoed in Amélie's ears. There was a ringing tone, a loud and sharp one, and she felt a familiar warmth seep into her body. A sharp pain stung into Widowmaker and she winced, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before she could open them again.
Suddenly she was back in the sickbay at the Watchpoint in Gibraltar.
Tracer was right there in front of her.
She was choking her.
Amélie's eyes flew open and she immediately let go of Tracer, trying to get off her. But Lena had her arms still around her and kept her close. She helped her to her feet again all while not letting go of Amélie.
Her mind was racing. She had almost killed Lena... again. What was she thinking? What was going on in her head?! Why did she...?
Amélie felt her legs grow weak, and she would have fallen to the ground if Tracer hadn't caught her.
"I'm sorry! God, I'm so sorry, chérie! Are you alright? Please tell me you are fine! I don't know what happened! I swear I was trying to-"
Lena carefully pulled her girlfriend closer into her arms and gently brought their lips together for a long and quiet moment. Amélie melted into her lovers strong embrace, allowing herself to be held like this. It felt good. Safe and secure, like everything was fine.
"I'm all good. Don't worry. I understand, ok? I understand. You're safe here. No one will hurt you. I promise, you hear me? No one will hurt you." Lena said, peering deeply into Amélie's eyes, waiting for her breathing to slow down again.
"I'm sorry" Widowmaker whispered.
"Was it the sickbay?" Tracer inquired. She didn't need to elaborate further. Amélie knew that her lover was talking about what triggered her to react like this.
Widow just nodded silently.
"Youscared the shit out of me. And out of the poor doctor."
"I-" Amélie tried to speak but her voice failed her. Her whole body was trembling. She was just so scared. She had never been this scared of something in her life before. It was like someone had opened a valve inside her mind and all the panic and pain stored up behind that valve suddenly burst out into her system. She couldn't do anything else but latch onto Lena and hold her tight while the Brit drew soothing circles onto her back.
Dr. Laguardia, meanwhile, just stared at the scene. He was by no means stupid, and even though he might have suffered a small shock from the sudden attack, he was very much capable of making an astute assessment of the situation.
What Amélie, or Widowmaker, or however she was called, suffered right there was an extreme panic attack. One triggered by an event here in the room or by the room itself. Most likely a combination of both. She obviously reacted negatively to being touched on the shoulder. But Amélie showed visible signs of tenseness before that already. It was his mistake. He misjudged the situation.
At any rate, everything had to be connected to her experiences at Talon.
Giuseppe felt stupid. Stupid and guilty. His patient suffered through that traumatic experience because he was sloppy. He should have known this could happen, and he should have been more careful around her. Hell, he had read her file. The stuff Talon did to her surely had to leave emotional scars. He would have been surprised if this woman didn't suffer from one of the most severe cases of posttraumatic stress disorder he had ever witnessed in the twenty plus years he had been a psychologist.
He should have set up their first meeting in the park or at the beach. Somewhere outside, as far away from anything close to a laboratory as possible. He should have thought about that. But he didn't.
What was even worse, was he had no idea how he would have calmed her down again. His professional opinion told him that he wouldn't have been able to do so. He would have died in that room if not for the Overwatch agent who had brought her. She was hardly just any random agent who was on duty. So much was sure.
The glance they shared before Tracer left made much more sense now. They were an item.
Fascinating.
That was, indeed, very fascinating knowledge. Not that Lena Oxton was obviously romantically involved with Talon's former master assassin; Giuseppe couldn't have cared less about that. No, what sparked his interest was the way Tracer dealt with Widowmaker's bout.
She simply let it happen. She took Amélie's outburst of violence and met her with complete trust. Something told Laguardia that Lena wasn't doing this the first time either. She truly believed that mere words would be enough to snap her partner out of it. She didn't struggle. She didn't fight it. She put her life in the hands of her attacker.
And she was right.
It worked.
Fascinating indeed. A valuable lesson. He would have to talk to Lena about this someday. Maybe he could even learn a thing or two.
"Luv? You ok?" Lena asked silently. Widowmaker still had her face buried in the crook of Tracer's neck, refusing to lift her head out of it.
"Non" was the uttered reply
"You want to go back?" Tracer asked softly.
"Please."
"Would you feel more comfortable if Angela did the examination once she is back and cleared for service?" Lena suggested, thinking that maybe it would help her girlfriend if she actually knew the doctor. They had that idea before, but dismissed it because it would mean waiting for Mercy to be cleared for service again and no one knew when that would happen. Or if it would happen.
"Oui. I'd like that." Amélie agreed.
Tracer nodded "Then come. I'll bring you back. Don't worry, things are going to be fine again, ok?" she said. Widow glanced over to the Doctor, who was leaning against a wall, not confident in the ability of his legs to carry him just yet.
"I apologize, doctor. I really didn't mean to do that." Amélie stated carefully. Was this right? Was she supposed to apologize here? A part of her still felt the urge to slice him into pieces.
Dr. Laguardia cleared his throat carefully. "I have to apologize as well. Considering your background, I should have been more considerate. Generally I want my patients to feel welcome, me scusi."
"Doctor?" Lena interrupted. "I assume you are under the Hippocratic oath?"
"Why, of course. I'm a graduated physician."
"Then I trust in your obligation to secrecy and hope none of this will find its way into any official report. And I mean nothing of what you just witnessed." It was seldom for Tracer's voice to sound serious. Usually she was always cheerful and easygoing. But right now, she was dead serious; threatening even.
"Rest assured, nothing like that will happen. I understand. But know that I have to report my results to Commander Morrison. I will not tell him details, but I will tell him I was unable to perform the evaluation he asked me for." Laguardia coughed, his throat felt sore "I will recommend this matter be handled by Dr. Ziegler once she is fit for service again. Can we agree on that?"
"Thank you, doctor." Lena nodded, relieved that the doctor, a complete stranger with no obligation to help them whatsoever, was willing to stay out of this despite what happened. Or maybe because of it? For a moment the thought crossed Lena's mind; was he merely curious? Maybe. It didn't matter. She guided Amélie out of the sickbay. The guard waiting outside did look a bit confused, but said nothing.
On their way back to Amélie's cell, she spoke up: "If he ever tells someone, I'll kill him"
Tracer laughed "I don't think he will tell." she said with a smile before they fell back into silence for a few moments.
"Will you stay for a bit?" Widow suddenly asked.
"You want me to?" Tracer inquired. She wasn't too sure.
Widow merely nodded silently.
"Then I'll stay."
-/-
A/N:
Alright ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the long wait, but as you all know I am rather busy with university. I know it has been a long time and I really wanted to publish this before Christmas, but it just wasn't ready yet.
I hope you all had wonderful holidays and I do wish you all the best for the upcoming new year of 2017! May all your hopes and dreams come true, my friends!
The next chapter is already done as well and should not take this long to be published again.
Now, I do know that this chapter wasn't as eventful, but I think it is important to show how Widowmaker fits into Overwatch and what happens to her.
I intentionally made her more fragile this chapter, showing that she indeed did suffer under Talon and that she is not as tough as she makes everyone believe. She opens up to Tracer, because she trusts her. What Talon did to her left scars. Not only on her body, but on her mind. I think we can all agree on that. To be honest I think it would be weird for Widowmaker to just shrug it off like nothing happened at all. She has to deal with memories coming back, with suppressed fears surfacing again and a lot more. I personally think it's more than reasonable that Widowmaker freaks out from time to time. Recovery won't be easy for her.
That said, I don't want it to drift into too angsty stuff. I want to stress that things are difficult, but I don't want to overdo it. It will be an issue for a bit while the plot progresses, but I promise you our favorite spider will be totally fine once shit starts to hit the fan. And it will hit the fan, I can promise you that.
Alright, I talked too much. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I'd be very happy if you could give me some feedback :)
A huge thank you to all of you who are supporting this story with favorites, follows and reviews. I usually reply to reviews whenever possible, but I still want to say thank you to all the guests who leave comments. You all are amazing and way too kind.
To be honest I do feel the pressure, I try extra hard to make this something worth reading and I'm starting to be concerned that I might let you all down. You have no idea how much this all means to me, really. This is my world. I love you all , thank you very much.
Special thanks of course to the the angels, you know them by now, without which this work would have been utterly impossible. Thanks guys (and girl).
It was an honor.
I'll see you all in the next one!
o7
E82
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Translations:
errrr... none you shouldn't know by now, I guess? Tell me if I missed something.