Watchpoint Gibraltar, infirmary, early morning
The door into the kingdom of Dr. Angela Ziegler burst open and storming inside came none other than the former Talon master assassin, wearing an expression void of any emotion. Her keen yellow eyes searched the room for any signs of the blonde woman in charge but found no sign of her anywhere to be found.
An annoyed snort escaped Widowmaker and she was about to turn back and go to Lena's quarters. Obviously without talking to Angela about the possibility to start removing more of the chips implanted into Amélie's brain. A procedure the Swiss doctor had still been reluctant to do for safety reasons. But Widow was done waiting.
That, and she had hoped that she could offer Lena something to show that she was indeed trying to change, despite her fear of having her body tampered with. Rationally Amélie knew that it was an idiotic fear to have. Angela was only there to help her and each and every time the Swiss doctor had done something on Amélie's body the results were great. Be that her increased appetite, the removed numbness and new found sensitivity of her skin, or the best feat up until now: The fact that Mercy had managed to give Amélie some of her stronger emotions back. Her emotional sensitivity was still comparable to that of an angry mountain-troll, but at least she was able to feel something again. Something being more than utter devotion to Lena and the overwhelming urge to kill anyone who dared to mess with her girlfriend. One could say that Widow's ice cold demeanor was slowly starting to thaw. A little. She could actually be something one might almost mistake for niceness from time to time. Amélie also noticed that she started not being completely indifferent about a few people beyond Lena and Mercy. Torbjörn seemed to be an alright guy and Fareeha was also not too bad, despite finding out about Lena and Amélie's secret. Of course there was also Zenyatta, who had helped Widow a great deal, so he was also on her good side. The more she thought about it, the more Amélie noticed that she started to give a shit.
Widow wasn't too sure if she liked that yet.
And it didn't solve her problem.
"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked and Amélie turned her attention to the back of the infirmary. Pharah was just returning to the room, from where, Widow could only guess. Judging from the way the soldier tried not to fall on her face in a most disgraceful way, she couldn't have been far. The toilet was probably the most likely explanation, so there was no need for any questions.
Amélie's eyebrow twitched as she caught herself walking over to Fareeha and offering her a hand of support. Something the old Widowmaker would have never done. The new Widow couldn't stand the idea of watching how a once proud warrior tried to not fall to her feet. Despite her impressive progress, it was still degrading for Pharah.
An unreadable smile flashed over Fareeha's face when she accepted the helping and the close proximity to Widowmaker felt, admittedly, really weird. Her skin was cold as a corpse and even though they were only walking together, Fareeha could feel Widow's strength. It was just so obvious, the way how Amélie didn't struggle for even a moment when Pharah leaned on her arm to not stumble and fall.
"So?" Fareeha asked, still hoping for an answer as to why Widowmaker was in the infirmary. Not that she minded the company.
"What?" A moment of confusion passed before Widow remembered that Pharah had asked her a question."Oh. Looking for someone? Oui. I was hoping the Doctor would be in."
Fareeha formed a silent ah. Of course Widowmaker would be searching for Mercy, it was obvious really. "Sorry, Angela is checking on our new friend. You know, the one you guys brought back from Russia." She replied with a shrug as Amélie helped her sit down on what became Pharah's bed in the last few months.
"Ah, Sombrero?" Widow shrugged. "Probably a good idea to check her face."
"What?" Fareeha choked, not sure that she had actually heard what she thought she did.
"What?" Amélie smirked, trying to seem confident. She wasn't. She hadn't meant to let Sombra's old nickname slip. She didn't even know where it came from.
"Did you just say Sombrero? Did you just crack a joke?" a flabbergasted Pharah asked in utter disbelief.
"Don't be ridiculous, I must have misspoken." Widow quickly replied, mustering her trademark smirk. Pharah just gave her a pointed look and a perked up eyebrow. A moment of tense silence passed between the two women before Amélie only huffed and uttered: "You have no evidence."
As a reply Fareeha could only roll her eyes as she settled into the bed. There was no point in replying. Still, a little fun would have been a nice change. Despite the fact that she had been to London with Mercy only recently, Fareeha was already sick of being stuck in the infirmary again.
Hated it even.
She wanted to be able to walk again like a normal person. Like she used to. Not like some cripple who could only walk when she leaned against a wall or when someone was there to support her. It was humiliating. The only advantage of this place was the proximity to the doctor. Which in itself was both torture and heaven.
"Anyway, I need to get going, there is something I have to take care of." Widow said and was about to leave, the doctor wasn't here after all and as much as she enjoyed her short exchanges with Pharah, the Egyptian couldn't help her.
"Oh, trouble in paradise?" Fareeha asked with a teasing smile, completely oblivious to how close to the truth she had just struck. The death glare she received was a great indicator, though.
"None of your business." Widow snapped, narrowing her eyes. There were a few topics, where Amélie made it obvious that she had no inclination to ever discuss them. Ever. Ok, there might have been more than a few topics. A lot of topics, actually. But either way, it was usually a wise choice to never come up with those particular issues again.
Fareeha's head recoiled a little at the harsh rebuke. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that..." Pharah said quickly, raising her hands in defense. However, there was an opportunity here, a chance to speak to Amélie in private and since the topic already kind of came up, Pharah could just as well utilize that. There was a fifty-fifty chance of completely destroying the fragile bud of friendship the two women managed to somehow allow and grow between them, but Fareeha decided it would be worth it. Best case scenario, they would lay some important groundwork for their friendship and Pharah would get some answers. So, the soldier summoned all her courage and continued. "I just asked because... well, since I know you and Lena are a thing..."
"Something you will forget immediately. And never speak of it again." Widow hissed, narrowing her eyes to her trademark death-glare, but Fareeha just shook her head. Slowly, like she was disappointed. Tracer and Widow had what they wanted and Fareeha would lie if she said she wasn't a little jealous. So why hide it? What was the big deal? It was so stupid. She just didn't get it.
Amélie didn't like the look on Fareeha's face for even a moment.
"Seriously, what is it with you two and your idiotic secrecy?" Pharah asked, definitely not in a calm manner. The mere idea of keeping a relationship a secret didn't sit well with her. Not at all and for reasons she had experienced firsthand. Ana and Rein had to keep it a secret. As a result, she had grown up without a father. "I don't know why you are so uncomfortable about all this. What's bothering you so much that you don't want anyone to know you two are in love?" She asked and was surprised by Widow's rather expressive look on her face. "Don't give me that face. Anyone with a working eye can see how much you care for each other. You should be happy to have her. It's not like you need to be ashamed because of your girlfriend or something." Pharah stated firmly. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, mentally scolding herself for that outburst. It wasn't where she wanted to go, just a bitter bug she had to spit out. "But it's none of my business, I know." She added with a shrug, failing to notice how Amélie fell silent, the shocked expression changing to a somber nothingness. Like something truly important, something ground-breaking, something she would have never thought about herself suddenly clicked into place and made perfect sense. Just not in a good way. Ashamed of your girlfriend. The phrase echoed in her mind over and over again.
Pharah missed Widow swallow heavily as she continued. "Still... I was hoping you could answer a question for me. Since you are in a relationship with another woman and all. How did you... you know?" Fareeha asked, a prominent red color burning on her cheeks despite her dark color.
"Know what?" Widow asked, disgusted how small and pathetic her voice sounded in her own ears. She wouldn't let someone else see her in such a weak moment. It was unacceptable.
"Hey, are you alright?" Pharah asked carefully, but Widowmaker only snorted.
"Don't be ridiculous." She said, relieved that her usual haughty voice was back the way she wanted it. "Now, what should I know?" Amélie asked with an expertly placed teasing smirk while she leaned forward a little. Her mind was still racing, but she had no intention of letting that show again.
"Uh, don't be like that!"
"Like what exactly? If you'd just ask a proper question, I might answer."
"Fine!" Pharah pressed out. "How did you know, that you liked Lena in... that way and that she did, too?" There. She said it. Suddenly the soldier seemed to have taken an interest in her fingernails, which she was clicking together.
"Oh." Widow said, staying silent for a very long, very uncomfortable moment. A wave of very fond memories overcame her, and she started smiling the warmest, most adorable smile Fareeha had ever seen and obviously not just on Widowmaker. No one had seen her smile apart from an icy, calculating and scarily predatory smirk which usually screamed I got you now.
Before Amélie knew what was happening she had already started talking. So much for her resolve. "Well, it started when I noticed that she was the only person I hesitated to kill. We had a weird back and forth whenever we met in combat. A very specific kind of dynamic, fighting felt like friendly banter. I enjoyed that, I think, no one could come out the clear winner, no one could keep the upper hand. It was like a wild dance we only shared with each other and I remember being content with that. Back then I had never even thought about the possibility of her and me being anything more than we were. Then I was wounded during a mission and walked into Lena by chance. She saved my life. That was the turning point in a way. I realized there could be something. Lena gave me a glimpse at what I could have, and I wanted more. A few days later she found me watching her." Widowmaker smiled fondly at the memory, not noticing that her French accent became a lot more prominent as she spoke. "Told me that I should just ask her out. Before I knew it, I was kissing her. I guess after that there was never really a doubt in my mind that I wanted her in that way as you put it. She lights up my life. Without her there would only be darkness. That's how I knew." She suddenly cleared her throat, as if she woke up from a daydream.
"Wow." Was the only thing Pharah could come up with. What else could she say? She hadn't expected that Amélie would share such a deep insight into her personal life.
"I don't really see why this is important to you, so do elaborate." Amélie's dreamy expression quickly faded as she set her sights on Pharah once more. "And I swear if you ever share this, it will be the last thing you do." She added sternly.
Pharah quickly shook her head "I won't tell anyone, you don't have to worry about that. Never been one for gossiping."
Another moment of silence passed.
"I am waiting." Amélie said narrowing her eyes. "Why is this important to you?"
"Oh... you see, I was asking because..." Fareeha trailed off for a moment, internally debating if she should really just spill the beans. Considering that she was a horrible liar and that Widow would probably not take kindly to being lied to, Pharah decided the truth was the way to go. Besides, she was a proud and daring soldier, she wouldn't simply cower now. "I like Dr. Ziegler, ok? In that way. I think. I'm pretty sure I do. But I don't have any idea what I should do and I was hoping, well..."
Amélie had to concentrate to stop herself from starting to laugh in a very cruel manner. She was almost proud that a short snort was all that escaped her. "You aren't seriously asking me for love-advice, are you?"
"Well, I don't know who else to ask. Tracer would only try and play the matchmaker. You are professional, level headed and a little icy. We have that in common, so I thought maybe you could help." Fareeha didn't back down. She would see this through, now that she started it.
Amélie raised an eyebrow at a little icy but didn't comment on it. For a second Widow actually contemplated to tell Pharah where to stick it. But for some reason that didn't feel right to her. Still, Amélie had no idea what to tell Fareeha. Only one thing really came to mind.
"Listen, I am literally the worst person on this planet to ask for advice on this topic, because I have no idea myself. But if you like Angela, why don't you just tell her? You are both adult women and I am sure you can behave the part. A word of warning though: Angela said a couple of times that she is straight. I wouldn't get my hopes up."
Fareeha's face fell.
"But still talk to her. Communicating is important. God gave you a mouth, so use it. Life is too short for regrets." Amélie said and felt her stomach turn as she spoke those words. She was a hypocrite for saying this. "I need to leave now." She stated quickly and had already fled before Pharah could reply.
Widowmaker rushed out of the door in much a similar way that she had came in. Running, as it seemed, away from something. She didn't know how to tell Lena.
She didn't know where to start.
Each step she took toward Tracer's quarters made her more nervous. More afraid.
Her hand felt heavy when she finally knocked on the orange door. For what felt like years nothing happened before the orange obstacle moved out of the way.
Big brown eyes full of love looked at her with a goofy smile on her lips.
What was Amélie supposed to do? She felt so guilty.
Before Lena could even greet her, Amélie had already pounced on her.
-/-
Watchpoint Gibraltar, two days later, 0912 hours, private quarters of Lena Oxton.
They hadn't left this room for god knows how long. And all the time they had been doing exactly the same thing.
Not that Lena was in any way inclined to complain, after all, the sex with Amélie had been mind-blowingly good. Still, she couldn't help but think it might have been a mistake. That she made the wrong call, that she should have decided differently before. When there had been a knock on her door and she opened it without a thought. The surprisingly enthusiastic greeting she had gotten when Amélie came by two days prior had been fun, at least at first. Amélie had pushed them inside and kicked the door shut before she had pressed the pilot against the wall, kissing her roughly and with hunger. Widowmaker had been all over her lover, eagerly demanding more.
And that had been the point where Lena was now wondering if she should have put a stop to it all. If she should have taken a moment to consider the situation and decide differently.
But she hadn't. She had been taken by surprise, hadn't even moved at first, frozen in place and overwhelmed by the sensation of her lover's demanding caress. Tracer had no idea what was happening to her, before she had already, out of pure instinct, kissed Amélie back. Tongues had been fighting each other in sloppy, wet kisses and faster than ever before Amélie's hands had been undressing her girlfriend, the woman she loved so much it scared her. There had been so much need in Amélie's eyes, in her touch. Such desperation and urgency, like she was afraid it would be the last time they got to spend time together like this. It was almost like Widowmaker had been certain about that.
Tracer had experienced the various articles of clothing coming off in a state of dreaminess, she had been so lost in the sensation of Amélie ravaging her mouth, absolutely dominating her in a way she usually never did, while stripping her naked. It hadn't been until Lena felt Widow's cool hands sliding up her toned stomach when she had finally realized that she needed to put an end to this.
Lena had noticed sooner that something wasn't right and yet she still hadn't had the willpower to stop it sooner. When she should have tried to find out what was going on, she had instead not done anything. At least not really. All she had done in that moment was to put her hands on Amélie's shoulders and tenderly pushed her off. Gently, carefully, but with determination. Lena had meant to ask if this was a good idea, but she hadn't done it.
The look in Amélie's eyes had felt like a punch to the guts. Her eyes had been glazed over from almost spilled tears. Shame. Hurt. Loathing. All those emotions had played so clearly on Amélie's face it still gave Tracer a chilly feeling even now that she was thinking back. It was so obvious all of a sudden and Lena wondered how she didn't see it sooner. The whole air of dominance had vanished in an instant, replaced with desperation. Amélie hadn't even been able look her in the eyes, Lena had to lift her chin up and toward her with her finger.
"Luv, what's wrong?" Lena had whispered, reaching up to now cup her lover's face gently into both of her hands. "What happened?"
Amélie had squeezed her eyes shut for a second and only shook her head. "P-Please" she had pleaded, her voice bitter and pained. "Not now... I... need this. Now. Please." She had all but whispered.
And that had been the point where Lena now, looking back, wondered if she might have made a mistake. Because no matter how hard the decision had been in that moment, she had felt like she had only one option. Of course, Lena had been pondering the decision, she knew a part of her did feel like she should ask further questions and figure out what had been going on and then do something about it, but she also knew that this hadn't been what Amélie wanted in that moment.
Tracer had been afraid that it would be a stupid mistake. It had been so obvious that Widow needed comfort from whatever it was causing her such distress and even now Lena rationalized that it hadn't been the first time they had been down this road. But usually Amélie told Lena what had been bothering her before they got physical. But not this time. This time Lena had only asked a weak "You sure?"
"Oui." Had been the barely audible answer. Lena had no idea if she had made the right call. But Amélie had never seemed more thankful then in this moment when Lena had leaned into her and captured her lips with her own, initiating another rough, hard kiss.
Maybe they should have done the talking first. For the last couple of days, Lena and Widowmaker didn't leave the bed. Which in itself was fun, but also kind of worrisome. Right now, they were both having a small break, cuddling. Reaching for her lover's hand as to say that everything was alright, they exchanged a small glance at each other, before Amélie quickly looked away again. It was almost as if Widow was afraid that looking too long at Tracer would reveal her thoughts to the Brit. Not that Tracer would have minded one bit to find out about them. She could only guess. Yet Lena would have been surprised to find out that Amélie's thoughts were almost at the same place as hers.
When Widow had come back from Morrison that day, she had been so scared that the one person who made her life worth living would go away if she told her what she had done to Katya Volskaya. She was so afraid Lena wouldn't approve. In fact, she knew that Tracer wouldn't approve. She had no reason to.
The last argument they had back in London left Widow so vulnerable and raw, despite Lena's best efforts to comfort her. Amélie had been scared of another fight between them, scared of where it might lead them. Scared that she might be forced to reveal her secret deal with the UN-General Secretary.
Widow wanted nothing more than to be open and upfront with Lena about these things, but she couldn't. As much as she wanted to, she could not. Which meant she couldn't tell her that killing Volskaya had a reason beyond Morrison's orders. She couldn't tell her why he gave those order. She couldn't tell her why she was taking his orders in the first place now. The fact that it now seemed like killing Volskaya would have been avoidable and might not have been necessary in the end didn't make it easier at all. It just added another thing to the long list of problems Widow couldn't tell Lena about. Why had she obeyed her orders even if she knew they were wrong? It didn't make anything easier.
Just use your mouth and talk to her. Oh, what a hypocrite she was, indeed.
All Amélie could tell Lena was, that she did it again. That she killed. And that she loved the feeling. Despite knowing it wasn't right. Despite being sure that Katya didn't do what Morrison thought she did. Widowmaker still enjoyed the kill. The thrill. The rush. She loved it. It scared her. It ate away at her insides. But part of her wanted to do it again.
She had planned to tell Lena at least that. But when she had opened the door, Amélie couldn't. She had needed Lena in that moment, feel her, smell her, taste her, even if it would be for the last time.
She had decided to tell her afterward. Just one last time together.
What happens then would be left to see. But Amélie quickly noticed that she was not only a hypocrite, but also an exceptional coward when it came to this particular problem.
She couldn't do it.
She couldn't take her own stupid advice and talk to the woman she loved so much. She couldn't tell Tracer. Instead Amélie kept Lena busy until they both collapsed from exhaustion and then some more. And again a while later and again in the morning. Was it healthy? God no it wasn't. But it was all Amélie could even think of, all she could do.
All that mattered to Widow was the moaning of the woman underneath her, pulling on her shoulders and scratching her back. They had been rolling around in Lena's small bed and Widowmaker took the opportunity to plant another series of hard kisses down her lover's neck and toward her right breast. Lena was already bruised and scratched, she looked like she had been mauled by a bear, but Amélie didn't care. She needed to leave marks. Needed to leave something behind, not just the fleeting heat of the moment or the ebbing wave of excitement she provided when her mouth dove in between Lena's legs.
-/-
Watchpoint: Gibraltar, Prison block, late evening.
If there would have ever been a contest for the least used room at Watchpoint Gibraltar, this one would have won by miles. No one ever came here, no one ever used it. Most didn't even know it existed in the first place.
But it did.
The Watchpoint had its own interrogation room. Which hadn't been used in forever. So long in fact that what little furniture the small room was equipped with had been covered with white sheets many years ago. Otherwise the dust would have covered the table and chairs by inches.
It had mattered little to Reinhardt, when he yanked the fabric off the metal table and seats, both bolted to the sterile white ground. A huge cloud of dust had whirled up, but again, Reinhardt hadn't cared at all, as he tossed the sheets to the side. This wasn't supposed to be comfortable. A little dust never killed anyone. Even those who were allergic to it. Not that he was or cared if Sombra was.
He had waited for Zarya to sit their new guest down and secure her to her place.
How long ago was that?
Reinhardt had no idea anymore. Could have been hours. Could have been days. The room had no windows, just the same bright, artificial light. There was no clock either. It you lose your feeling of time in a matter of hours.
All Rein knew for sure was, that they had been at it for too long. Which would have been tolerable, if he only had anything to show for all the spent time. But he hadn't. No matter how much time had passed, they had gotten exactly nowhere. So far Sombra had told them nothing they would have been interested in. Instead she was taunting them, winding them up, baiting them with information which turned out to be utterly useless in the end and generally trying to steal as much time from them as she could. It was slowly starting to unnerve Reinhardt. Let alone Zarya, who was physically restraining herself from punching a cuffed Sombra across her head. The weightlifter had her hands firmly behind her back, refusing to put them anywhere else.
"Miss Colomar, we can do this all day long if you want." Reinhardt sighed, audibly pissed off. "You don't want to share your knowledge about Talon's boss. Ok, I get it. Let's try something else, alright? Maybe you can shed some light into another problem. Do you know who is responsible for the death of Åke Väinö? You remember him, don't you?" Reinhardt tried his hardest to keep friendly. Though he knew that he would not be able to keep this act up forever. He wanted to punch Sombra so badly.
"Si, si, I remember him. The Finnish guy who they say wrote the god-programs." She giggled provocatively at that statement. "You still believe he did that?"
"What I believe is of no importance. I want to know who is responsible for his death. Who killed him?"
"You know that just as well as I do, don't you? Not many people had access to him." Sombra shrugged, but Reinhardt kept his calm. He was extensively briefed by Commander Morrison on the matter at hand. Of course, he knew that the Commander didn't tell him everything, but that was alright. Reinhardt was a soldier bound by duty and honor. He didn't need to know what Morrison thought he didn't need to know. He was told enough to properly conduct this questioning. To what end, Reinhardt didn't have to know exactly. It was important, that was enough.
"Who is the traitor we had in Overwatch? Is it the same person who is now in charge of Talon, and finally, who is it? Who is pulling the strings in the background? Tell us and we are done here."
It was Zarya who now leaned over the desk and chose to remove her hands from behind her back and shove some folders with dossiers of different people toward Sombra. "We know that it has to be one of these people. We know because they are the only ones who had access to Väinö. Who is it?" she urged.
Sombra looked at the files and was impressed to realize that they indeed had the correct candidate on their list. Even though that person was marked K.I.A. "What if the person you are looking for is already dead?" she asked, wiggling her brows.
"Ah, so you know who it is then, ja?" Reinhardt leaned forward. Finally. Progress.
"Maybe." Sombra shrugged. Or not. "I will tell you who didn't do it." The hacker smirked and nodded at a dossier in the middle. She couldn't really point at the file since her hands were tied to her chair. "It wasn't your late wife, Mr. Wilhelm." Sombra enjoyed the flash of confusion across Reinhardt's face and chose to have some more fun. "Not that she is actually late. Well, maybe late to the party and all, but other than that, she is actually pretty fine."
"What did you just say?" Rein muttered under his breath, dangerously low, his eyes zeroed in on Sombra.
"Ah, you see, she has been in a coma for a while. And that's all I'll tell you for free." She grinned at his expressionless face.
Inhale.
Exhale.
With an incredibly fast, precise and forceful move Reinhardt had grabbed Sombra at her collar and lifted her up in her chair as far as the restraints would allow him. Had he pulled any harder, he might just have ripped out Sombra's arms.
"Listen to me very closely." Reinhardt said with deadly calmness. "I will not fall for you games, Olivia. If you think you can wind me up with lies about my wife, you might be right. But ask yourself, do you want to get turned into Blutwurst by my bare hands? Because it will happen if you continue this." He narrowed his eyes, pleased to see that he could sense the waves of fear from Sombra. He had put the case of Ana Amari to rest. She was dead, and even if she wasn't, she was far away and obviously wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He would not allow an old, well healed scar to open up again after all those years. "Klar soweit?"
Sombra swallowed hard. Her shoulders were on the point of being dislocated and there was not the least bit of doubt left in her mind that the German knight was absolutely serious about his threat. She should have kept her mouth shut. That attempt at manipulation backfired straight into her face, still, she would not give up so easily. If she showed weakness now, she would have lost.
Instead of answering, Sombra held Reinhardt's glare as good as she could. "This is the last time I will ask you: Who betrayed us? Who killed Åke Väinö and who is the head of Talon? Is it the same person and who is it? Spill it now if you know what's good for you."
"Empty threats don't suit you, old man." Sombra laughed haughtily but was quickly silenced when Rein tossed her into her chair, knocking the air out of her lungs.
"Empty? I don't know if you are really this tough or if you are just plain stupid, girl." Rein said with a seriously scary calmness. The way he spoke slowly and without haste, like he was explaining something to a little child, was astonishing. Sombra wasn't sure if she could ever make him lose his cool. Or if she wanted him to lose it. "No one knows you are here. No one knows you even exist. I can do whatever I want with you. And I have so much time..." he said, slowly sitting back down as to emphasize a point. The metal chair creaked under the weight of pure muscle.
Zarya was the one who smacked Sombra over her head. "I suggest answering the man. Because I am in no way inclined to stop him when his patience runs out. I'm surprised that he hasn't turned you into goo by now, to be honest."
"Oh, is that how you lost your eye? Got impatient?" Sombra asked, not knowing how close to the truth she actually was.
"Silence!" Zarya smacked Sombra again. "Answer the question. Is our traitor and Talon's boss the same person?"
"hmmm..." Sombra smiled "Maybe? Hell, what makes you think I'd know that."
"Because you do." Reinhardt replied calmly. Very calmly. Too calmly. "And you will tell me. Now."
"Oh, and why is that?" Sombra asked, an ever so slight flash of discomfort playing on her face for but an instant. It was easily missed, but definitely there.
Reinhardt rose from his chair again and leaned over the table, towering above it like a mountain in the middle of a giant wasteland. He looked truly horrifying. "Because, Miss Colomar, as my colleague so kindly said, I am coming to the end of my patience. Which means you either tell me now, or I make you wish you had started talking when you still had the chance."
Sombra swallowed, looking into Reinhardt's eyes. Or better eye. She was good at reading people. Social engineering had been one of her best disciplines. She knew how to manipulate, how to make people do what she wanted. It had always been fun. Part of the trick was to play your opponents weakness in the right way and use it against them. She had become a master of figuring out what those weaknesses were and how to use them. The problem was, Sombra had played her trump card against Reinhardt. She told him about his wife and he just shrugged it off and got on with the interrogation. She had no idea if he really didn't believe her, or if he was able to put that information to the side for now. Either way, one thing was painfully obvious. He meant business. She had reached the point where she had the choice of feeding them a little bit of information or face bodily harm. Because one thing was certain, this was the point where Reinhardt would be done with pushing her around a little. He was serious. And Sombra wasn't exactly fond of pain. She could do just fine without it. Twisted it might have been, but she was willing to endure some extent of pain to guard the secret, but deep down she knew that she would have to face worse soon anyway. Better not tap into her reserves too early. Because no matter what she told them now, she would never tell them who ran Talon. Never. She would sooner die.
Sighing, Sombra came to a decision. "It's the same person. Your traitor and the boss. One and the same on the inside." She said and felt an uncomfortable tuck in the back of her head, almost like the first stage of a very bad migraine. She shouldn't say anything more now.
"Who?" Zarya pressed on. "Who is it? Do the right thing and tell us, Colomar."
"No." Sombra shook her head and flinched visibly when Reinhardt slammed is fists onto the metal table. So hard in fact that he left imprints in the now deformed surface. She didn't even want to imagine how those fists would feel when they connected with bones. Sombra was sure he could break her arm just by squeezing it in his fist.
Just when Reinhardt was about to yell at Sombra, the door into the interrogation room opened and in walked a sight for sore eyes. A petite Asian whom Sombra hadn't seen in a while. A smile crossed her lips for but an instant.
"Don't you think it's enough for now?" DVa asked sternly, stemming her hands to her hips in a very bossy manner.
"We aren't done yet." Reinhardt stated, not regarding DVa at all.
"Hrmpf. Is that so, Rein?" she pressed, now getting his attention. "I need to talk to you two." Hana said, stepping outside the interrogation room.
"Don't go anywhere." Zarya said to Sombra, as she walked past her and out of the room, quickly followed by Rein. His warning glare was not comforting the hacker at all.
Then the room was silent, apart from Sombra's breathing. She couldn't believe that she actually heard her own breath, but apparently that was no problem. Or maybe the serious lack of sleep was slowly getting to her. Only now, in that short moment of peace did she realize how tired she truly was.
Outside the door in the hallway in front of the interrogation room, Hana glared at the two other Agents.
"What is it Hana? We really have to get this done with." Rein sighed.
"You have been at it for too long. The two of you didn't get it done for the last 36 hours, what are a few hours more at this point? Take some rest. Eat something and get some sleep. It's not like we are on a schedule."
"Actually, we are. Morrison wants results."
"Yes, and I highly doubt he wants them beaten out of her. You go take care of yourselves and come back to it once you calmed down. I will bring our guest back to her cell."
"Hana, we can't-" Zarya started, but was interrupted by DVa.
"Nope. Don't make me go to Commander Morrison, because I will. And I will complain so long that he orders you to take a break."
"You are too bossy for your age." Reinhardt grumbled.
"I have five no-good older brothers, who never got anything done in life. Of course I am bossy. Someone had to motivate them." Hana shrugged.
Reinhardt laughed at that "Alright, alright. We'll take a break. You can handle her?"
"I think I can bring her back the few steps to her cell. Consider it done." Hana said with a nod and turned back toward the interrogation room. Making sure that Zarya and Rein were really going, she slipped into the room.
"Alright, that's it for now. I'll take you back to your cell so you can rest, ok?"
"You have fire, chica. I like it." Sombra smiled as Hana uncuffed the hacker from her chair.
"How would you know?" Hana challenged, helping Sombra to her feet. The hacker paused and smirked in a way that DVa didn't like for a second.
"Seen it in your eyes." Sombra said with a wink.
Feeling the crimson color spread over her cheeks, Hana pulled Sombra along and out of the interrogation room. "You are horrible." She uttered, not at all happy when the hacker laughed happily. Not in a mocking way. Not in an evil way. It was a warm laugh.
Reaching Sombra's small cell, Hana nodded to the guard to open it up and escorted her inside. Once inside she took the Latina's handcuffs off and tucked them away in the pocket of her pants.
"So... do you need anything?" she asked, feeling a tiny bit awkward under Sombra's questioning gaze. The hacker had such beautiful eyes, Hana noticed and immediately wondered why the hell her brain chose to inform her about this fact now of all the times. It didn't help her blush to go away, not even a little.
"Gracias, but I think I have everything. Well, at least everything I'm allowed."
"Sorry about that... The gloves and all." Hana said and looked away.
"Eh, you'd be lousy at the whole prisoner thing if you let me keep them. I'll manage." Sombra said with a shrug, before turning her attention fully to Hana and poking her teasingly. "That is unless you want to help me manage."
It was cute to see Hana was able to turn even redder than before. "I-I... shouldn't. Bad idea. Yes. Very bad idea." She stuttered. "I'll swing by in a few hours and check on you. Yes." She nodded hectically, rushing out of the door, which slammed shut behind her. If only to open an instant later, with Hana poking her head through the door "Sorry. Good night. Bye." She said, this time closing the door in a silent, gentle manner.
Sombra couldn't help but smile at the Asian's antics. She was undeniably adorable.
It didn't make things easier.
-/-
A/N:
"Are you writing again?"
-mhm
"Wondered why you didn't do that in a while."
-really?
"Non. I know why, don't worry. Your muse is back, I guess that's alright."
-it's not that, you know with University and all..
"bla bla bla, patate. You should know me better than that."
Alright ladies and gentleman, As you can see, I am not dead (yet). So you all get to enjoy a new chapter. Or at least, I hope you enjoy it. I am having difficulties getting back into writing and picking the story up where I left it and it bothers me and argh. But hey, here you all are with this piece. Also, there are two more chapters in the works, but I will promise nothing. No, no. They will arrive when they are done.
To the guest who wrote what felt like 2 million reviews demanding an argument between Widow and Tracer. Dude. Listen. A) I can tell that one and the same guy is writing more reviews with different names. B) why would you do that in the first place? Do you think I will change my plans for this story if enough people complain? I wouldn't be able to go anywhere if I did this. And I really don't mean this in a disrespectful way, I really hope you guys appreciate me sticking to the original plan of the story, otherwise it would all fall into chaos.
I'm mentioning this, because it had me re-think the next chapter for like four weeks until I decided to split it, lost motivation, didn't know where to go anymore or what to do and actually lost some (read: a lot of) sleep over the "this will either make or break the story" statement. Jup. Four weeks of self-doubt because of some guest. Took me a while to realize that it was completely stupid to worry about the rash critique of someone who doesn't even have an account to engage in an educated discussion with.
Soooo... yeah.
Critique appreciated, discussion preferred. Make yourself an account if you want. It's free. You can chat with me. You can leave a favorite and/or follow. Which will tell you when I update again. Which will happen faster if I don't drown in self-pity. Lots of advantages! You should do it.
Speaking of advantages:
You can still tip if you want to pay my next coffee. Or the Ferrari, lol.
tipeee com slash e82s-fanfiction
SPECIAL THANKS GOES TO MY TIPPERS SINCE THE LAST CHATPER:
-Nomville
-rawreverie
-DarthWhiskey
Thank you guys and girls! It's much appreciated!
Also, special thanks to my trusty beta minion Jfb715!
Since I talked waaay to much already, thanks to everyone else of course, I all love you to bits. Really do.
See you all in the next one
o7
E82
-/-
Translations:
Klar soweit = (German) Got that?