Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Jack was thirty two years old he began to lose his vision in his right eye. There was no real rhyme or reason for it, most doctors explaining it away as some side effect from his super soldier conditioning.  The loss was slow, sharp lines gradually becoming fuzzy and far away objects resembling colorful shadows rather than their true shape. For the most part, though, he was lucky, his left eye working fine and the right only acting up every now and then.  

The dubious doctors had told him early on that there were surgeries he could undergo, corrective lenses he could wear if his sight got increasingly worse, but jack always politefully declined. The recovery from such a surgery would take too long, corrective lenses almost impossible since his vision fluctuated daily. It's where his tactical glass came in hand, modified to enhance his sight on a day by day basis, allowing shapes to form more clearly, colors to become bright and noticeable. He even took to wearing glasses when he was alone, a drawer full of different prescriptions for each day, his sense of pride stopping him from wearing them elsewhere. 

Only Gabriel knew about the glasses, his declining sight, and the man never made a big deal out of it, always making sure to lend him a hand on any official business, especially if the press was there. He made sure Jack never tripped or stumbled, small reveals that might speak volumes to a camera. He never understood why he did it, knowing that Gabriel had more to gain from his disability than lose, but he appreciated it none the less.

But now Jack was fifty-one and, for all extensive purposes, blind in his right eye, a significant portion of his left gone with it in the explosion in Switzerland. So he donned his tactical visor, allowing him to see as clearly as he could in his left eye, major shapes and shadows in his right, and tried his best to get by. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough to get the job done. 

Hand to hand combat was his best option now, shoot outs and the like putting him at a rather large disadvantage he tried to avoid. It caused him to rely more on heavy fire and wide shots, making sure to only go after as many guys as he could handle. As much as he wanted to shoot his way through government offices and the like he knew it would never work, especially now.

Old age hadn’t treated him will, the dull throbbing in his lower back and the pain from his shoulder as he kneeled down on the roof a persistent reminder as he hefted his rifle to his shoulder, tip pointed toward the building across the way. It was a residential building, high ceilings with windows from the floor up that offered a complete view to the room inside. It also provided an excellent way for Soldier76 to watch his target from afar.

A light flicked on, and Jack shifted just so, trying to make himself as small as possible. He wasn’t close by any means, relying on the fact that it was unlikely he would be seen even if he stood up and waved his rifle around to get the man’s attention. But he’d always been careful, always made sure to go in with caution; a careless man was a dead one as far as he was concerned.

The target moved around his room aimlessly, stopping for a long moment by the bar in the kitchen, an open floor plan giving Jack the perfect view. He wasn’t anyone special, not really, but he was a means to an end; another name on the long list of people leading to whoever was in charge and, hopefully, some answers.

As the target continued to wander aimlessly around the apartment, discarding his jacket atop the neatly made bed, Jack felt the urge to stand and stretch, muscles sore from the day, and a yawn crawled up his throat but he stifled it. He hated to admit it, but he was definitely getting to old for this.

The target was at the window now, a glass in one hand and seeming to be survey the skyline, gaze shifting from building to building. He finally stopped in Jack’s direction, as if somehow seeing him clearly across the way.

Movement near the door caught Jack’s eye, someone seeming to slip quietly through the door and toward the man at the window. It was a man, taller than the target, and was dressed in a normal looking suit, hair pushed back from his face, but there was a revolver in his hand, raised ever so slowly as he moved.

The target raised his arm, eyes still on Jack and glass in hand, before crumpling to the ground, the shot from the revolver as quiet as ever. He only had a few moments before he felt a heavy push against his back, face digging into concrete as the sound of the blast followed.

Jack forced himself to stand, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the sharp pain pulsing through his back. He heard what sounded like gunfire in the distance, turned to see one of the glass windows of the apartment shattering, but he had little time to think as what appeared to be armed soldiers broke through the rooftop door, guns searching for him.

One fired, missing him by the smallest margin, and when he turned to run he felt the next one catch him in the shoulder, another in his side. The last lodged deep within his thigh, throwing his balance, and he hit the ground hard, biting back the pain. He wanted to say he should have known, that he made a wrong move, done something he could fix, but there was so much unknown. Something was happening that he had not control over, and Jack cursed out loud because of it.

There were shots around him as he stood once more, swaying as he put as much pressure on his leg as he could, but when he did he caught the butt of a rifle to his face, visor cracking under the pressure. There was a shot, nearby and sounding like a warning before another rifle was slammed into his chest, pushing him backward, stumbling. When he hit the ground again he found himself unwilling to move. Everything hurt and he was tired; he had no control of the situation and he felt his head spinning as he tried to think of a plan, an escape.

There were more gunshots around him, sounding small and far off but there, and there were more voices now, a laugh. But the sounds were fading, a heavy pulsing in his head that began to feel like a haze letting him know he was close to passing out. He thought about willing himself up, shaking back unconsciousness until he could find somewhere safe to recover, like an alley or under a speedway. But he was so goddamn tired, the ache of his muscles so apparent, the drumming of his pulse so loud it was soothing almost.

He closed his eyes, telling himself it would only be for a moment, a few seconds to get his head together, but when he did he found them unwilling to open and figured what the heck. If he wasn’t dead already, he figured he’d probably been forgotten, the man with the revolver and most likely his friends by the sounds of it could figure the damn thing out. Right now, this was their problem not his, and that was enough.

“Is he gonna wake up?”

“He should. I counted three bullets, but they came out clean enough. I’m honestly more worried about his muscles atrophying. He’s been missing the stimulants his body needs after his super soldier conditioning. I put him on an IV which should help, but once he wakes up...we’ll need to talk.”

Jack opened his eyes slowly, a bright white light blinding him, a stark contrast from the familiar deep red of his visor.  He groaned.

“Jack? Jack, are you awake?”

Jack turned his head, slowly, and squinted in the light. He saw a woman standing there, blonde hair and blue eyes, brows creasing in worry as she reached a hand out to him…

“Angela?”

Angela paused, pulling away from Jack as he sat up, hands rushing to his face. Now mask.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We took it off only after we arrived. No one else knows but us.”

Us? he thought, the words catching in his dry throat. He coughed a few times, chest shaking, before looking down. He was shirtless, showcasing the faded scars running across his body, some from before the explosion and some after; the biggest one a memento from time in the middle.

“You shouldn’t move too quickly. You lost a decent amount of blood.”

Angela was standing just out of reach, hands clasped behind her back with a smile and wide eyes wide full of something he couldn’t place. She looked older, of course, but still the same. He found a small sense of comfort in that, her still being able to smile after everything.

“How did you find me?”

“Well, I think it’s more of you who found us,” she explained, motioning toward his leg

The fabric was torn where the bullet had entered, a bandage wrapped tightly around it.

“It should heal quickly enough. Your shoulder and side are actually already showing signs of healing.”

Jack raised a hand to his shoulder, a sharp pain following the motion, and it was only then he noticed the bandage wrapped there as well.

“I suggest a few days rest,” Angela said, moving closer. “I would like to keep you here overnight, just in case. You missed months of stimulants and your body is weakening because of it. I might be able to get you something to hold you over until-“

Jack raised a hand, silencing her as the memories began to come back: the target, the mission. “Where am I?”

There was a scoff from behind him, and he turned to see the man from the apartment, the one with the revolver, still in a suit and scowling.

“What? Got hit on the head so hard you can’t even remember your old base? Or maybe you just don’t want to.”

The man laughed, dry and humorless, and Jack had the sense that he knew the man, voice familiar but a bit too deep, too graveled. He noticed then the man was wearing a wide brimmed hat, clashing with his suit, and he pushed it back from his face. Jack just stared.

“Aww, come on, now,” the man said, smirking. “You remembered Ang right off the bat. But I guess it makes sense. You always thought so little of us anyway, not bein’ part of your dream team and what not.”

“Jesse!” Angela chided, and the man seemed to roll his eyes.

“What?” he said, eyes darting to Angela and back. “He doesn’t get to come in here and act all innocent like. We didn’t have to save his ass. That was your call, Ang, not mine.”

Angela put her hands on her hips, visibly exhausted. She said nothing, but her gaze said enough.

“Whatever. I’m leaving.” Jesse turned away from them both, heading for the door. “Try not to let him die. Again.”

When he left, Angela let out a huff.

“I swear, he’s still as childish as ever.” She turned back toward Jack, apologetic. “Don’t mind him. It’s been a hard week for all of us.”

“I know him,” Jack said, and Angela gave him that look again; it was starting to feel like pity.

“I’m sure you do. Jesse was quite the character back in our heyday,” she explained, smiling. “You could never get him to stop using your punching bags as targets.”

“He said he liked to watch the sand fall out. Made it feel real,” Jack replied before he could stop. The memory had come out of nowhere, the man suddenly becoming a child again in his eyes, a pout on his face as Jack scolded him once again. “McCree.”

With the name came more images, his mind working in overdrive as names and faces flashed through his head, memories he thought he’d long forgotten suddenly rushing back: the team, Overwatch, Gabriel at his side…

“I should go,” he said and Angela had to physical stop him from leaving the bed, hands reaching out to press against his shoulder and hip.

“You should rest” she said firmly, pushing him back down on the bed. “If you’re not dead come morning, I’ll let you leave. How does that sound?”

“Angela...” Jack wanted to argue, wanted to point out that he knew the woman better than that, that she would never let her patient leave so easily. But he knew there was no point; she’d always been stubborn like that.  “You’ve… gotten older.”

Angela seemed a bit taken aback by that, hand sliding down to grip his firmly. “We’ll talk in the morning,” was all she said and Jack let himself relax, eyes closing as she let go.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jack breathed, exhaustion seeming to wash over him.

Angela hummed, fingers pressing something firmly against his wrist. “Sleep, Jack. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jack did as he was told, always a soldier first and foremost, and soon fell into a deep sleep, something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in a very long time.

McCree walked purposefully toward his room, head down and hat tipped just the same. He looked up in time to see Hanzo standing outside his room, waiting.

“You didn’t have to wait up.”

“I know,” Hanzo replied easily, gaze falling down then up. “You are still in the suit.”

McCree waved him off. “You comin’ in too?” He motioned toward the door, throwing in one of his signature smiles, even if it was a bit forced; the last thing he wanted was to be alone right now.

Hanzo nodded, seeming to sense whatever was going on in McCree’s head, and took the hand offered to him without a word, a heavy silence following as the door shut firmly behind them.

Chapter Text

Jack had gotten used to the glow of his visor, the deep red hue that tinted his vision and calmed him more often than not. When he saw red he was Soldier 76, vigilante and bringer of justice, nothing more. Yet, for the second time, he awoke to a blinding white instead, his mind clearer than before, more focused; he had so many questions.

He sat up, feeling his muscles ache in response, and found Angela working at a nearby table. There were various beakers and racks of vials crowding her, a rather complicated microscope dangerously close to her elbow as she scribbled furiously in a notebook.

“A notebook?”

Angela didn’t move, pen still scurrying across the pages, dipping here and there as she paused in thought. “I like the feel of writing. Keeps my mind from wandering. How are you feeling?”

“I can see you,” Jack said, an almost question as he closed one eye and then the other. The left was almost perfect, only a slight blurring around those objects a bit further away. Opening the right, however, was like someone had dimmed the lights, everything a bit more shadowy, darker, but still clearer than before.

“You’re only just noticing?” Angela asked, looking amused as she stopped writing. She looked toward Jack with a smile, chin resting in her hand as she looked him over.

Jack followed her gaze, glancing down at his side, his leg, one hand coming up to cover his shoulder. “Yesterday…It didn’t feel real. It felt like…”

“A dream?” Jack nodded and Angela made a satisfied sound. “Well, you were in and out for a while. But your vitals seem stable and I’m not seeing any complications so far. Getting your body what it needed to heal properly worked wonders for the most part. You haven't been taking stimulants for years, right? Without them, you're enhanced healing has been slow, almost non-existent. I’m sure you've felt it, the aches and pains. It's not just old age.”

Jack sighed, running a hand over his face. “And my sight?”

“Well,” Angela drawled, her voice raising in pitch. Jack tensed; he knew what that voice meant. “You see, when we brought you in, you were in terrible shape. I had to take off your mask to let you breath, stop you from hyperventilating while I injected you with an IV and worked on your gunshot wounds. After that was done, I checked you for any major head injuries. I was told you went down hard quite a few times.”

“How--?”

Angela cut him off with a hand. “That’s not important. What is important is that I ran a few scans, stumbled upon the complications with your sight and well…It was just a few disconnected nerves in your left, some heavier damage to your right. So I may have taken a little bit of an initiative and…fixed it. But, as you can see, it gave you full sight back in your left eye, and as for the right--”

“Angela…” Jack’s voice came out slow, his thoughts becoming jumbled as he processed Angela’s words.

“Just listen for a moment,” she defended, reaching out a hand as she approached him. “For now, I inserted a lens to help it focus, but it's still tentative so you have to--”

Jack pushed her hand away. “Take it out.”

“Jack--”

“I said take it out!” Jack’s head was throbbing, a dull pain right building behind his eyes as he turned away from Angela. He didn’t ask for this, never wanted this. His lost vision was something he’d accepted long ago, a penance of sort for his actions, his mistakes. It was his burden to carry, and Angela had no right to just take that away, to…fix it.

“I don't--I don’t want it,” he confessed, a vulnerability to the statement that he hadn’t heard come out of his mouth in decades.

Angela had only stepped back after his outburst, giving him room but not backing down. “Don’t want it or don't think you deserve it?,” she said pointedly, and when Jack said nothing she sighed. “Fine. You've worn contacts before, right? The lens in your right eye functions just the same. There’s a mirror behind you. If you do take it out, at least put it back in this." She handed him a small silver box, latched. “The other one’s already in there. I was going to give it to you for the left if you wanted. They’re not cheap, especially since they're just a prototype.”

Jack stared at the box held out to him, but didn’t take it. “You made these?”

“I did.” Angela’s face softened at the statement, obviously proud of herself. “Technology has come a long way since you’ve been gone. Maybe you'd know that if you weren't busy beating up bad guys in alleys and getting caught up in our missions.”

“Your mission?” Jack wasn’t completely in the dark about that. He knew Overwatch had been recommissioned (illegally), that they were ever so slowly getting back out in the field, but he always tried to stay far away from wherever they were, a calculated distance.

Angela nodded. “How do you think we found you?”

Jack shrugged, pushing around so his legs hung over the edge of the bed. A sharp pain shot up his thigh because of it, another in his side when he leaned back in response.
“Careful,” Angela said and bent over to inspect his injuries. She unwrapped his thigh as she spoke, hands moving with practiced ease. “Your target ended up on our radar as well. I believe there were ties to Talon involved, but I don’t know for sure. I never asked for the specifics, and I doubt Winston would tell me. I was on medical backup, a few blocks away. It was actually Genji who carried you back to me. Got to love having a cyborg on the team.”

“You can’t mean--Ow!.” Jack glared down at a guilty looking Angela, two fingers pressed heavily against his wound. She removed them quickly, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry. Guess it’s still sensitive.” She moved to his side then, undoing the bandage there. It was partially healed, dried blood circling the freshly regenerated skin. When she did the same to his shoulder, it appeared the same, but this wound was more securely closed, already in the process of scarring.

“So, Genji?” Jack tried again as Angela rolled his bloodied bandages into a ball. She placed them in a can near her desk, and nodded.

“Same one as you remember. Except, a bit more…robotic.” Angela made a vague motion with her hands, as if trying to sculpt the man in the air. “He’s a little upset you bled all over him. Got blood in his gears. It took Lucio almost two hours to clean it all out.”

Jack honed in on the name. “New team member?”

“You know, you’re taking this all pretty well,” Angela noted, squinting at him suspiciously as she opened up a drawer. She grabbed a cloth and an unmarked bottle, squeezing a clear liquid from it and covering the cloth. “What happened to the Jack who hated surprises?” She pressed the cloth against one of his wounds and he winced at the sting, earning a smirk from her. “I remember when we threw you a surprise party that one year, and when you arrived Gabe--”

“There’s not much that can surprise me anymore,” Jack said flatly, hating the way she spoke so easily of the past. How long had it been since he’d convinced himself that part of his life was over, better off locked up where it belonged: behind him.

Angela didn’t seem surprised at his words, only humming as she moved to his hip, shoulder.

“Besides,” Jack continued, shifting only slightly as he became accustomed to the burn. “What about you? The great Jack Morrison, the people’s hero and an international symbol for peace and justice, back from the dead, and as you put it so eloquently, ‘beating up bad guys in back alleys’.”

Angela tried to hide her smile. “What can I say? I knew the real Jack. Also, as a doctor, I took an oath not to hit a patient.”

Jack laughed aloud, startling her. “When has that ever stopped you before?”

Angela swatted his shoulder this time, the uninjured one. “Are you questioning my practice, Jack Morrison?”

“I would if it would change anything, but it won’t. You’re always doing what you want. I know better.” He waved a hand over his eyes, as if to make his point.

Angela huffed and turned away, seemingly done with her disinfecting. “I only want to help, Jack. You know that. My intentions are always good.”

“You know what they say about good intentions.” He’d meant to tease her, but his solemn tone turned into something else as he caught quick flashes of his childhood: his mother and her favorite pew at church, his father in a backdrop of bright blue sky and golden hills.

“Jack?” There was a heavy silence as his mind wandered, and Angela seemed to catch on to his drifting. She placed upon his shoulder, grounding him.

“I’m fine,” he assured as the memories vanished, voice sounding gruff even to his ears. “Better than ever.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily; he’d definitely been worse.

Jack pushed off of the bed then, pushing through the pain until the weight on his leg was tolerable, balancing himself. “See?”

Angela had her hand on her hips as she watched him, unconvinced. “I don’t have them ready, but I have some pills that will help with the pain. I also have ones you’ll need to take to make up for your stimulants. I’ll bring them to your room when they’re done.”

“My room?”

The med bay door opened before Angela could answer, a loud, mechanical hiss that echoed in the silence.

“Everything alright, Fareeha?” Angela asked cheerily as a woman entered and Jack found himself staring.

Fareeha...?

“Winston wishes for a status report on Mr. Morrison,” she said, bowing a bit when she caught Jack’s gaze.

“Fareeha?” he asked aloud, a bit speechless. She was tall, with broad shoulders and a definite frame that screamed physically fit. Her hair was short, eyes serious, and the marking around the right made something in his chest hurt at the familiarity. “You’ve gotten taller.”

He received a hint of a smile, a nod. “And you have gotten older, Mr. Morrison.”

“Jack,” Jack corrected and Fareeha seemed to take it in stride. She turned back to Angela.

“Make sure you update Winston. He seems very busy.”

“Of course he is. It’s always hectic after a mission.” Angela placed a hand upon Fareeha’s arm, patting it reassuringly.

Fareeha looked down at her, a look of fond exasperation on her face. “Make sure you take care of yourself as well. Do not work too hard.”

Angela smiled. “You know me. Now, do me a favor and see if Mei’s done with Jack’s visor.”

“My visor?” Jack asked, but was ignored, the two women seeming a bit caught up in one another.

“Of course,” Fareeha said, one hand resting atop Angela’s briefly. “Take care. Jack.”

Jack gave a quick wave as she turned toward him. Angela’s gaze followed her out, a genuine smile breaking across her face.

Jack quickly caught on. “Fareeha? Really?”

Angela’s smile fell, and she looked down, obviously embarrassed. “Don’t you lecture me, Morrison. Of all people.”

“I never--” Jack defended, but cut himself off when Angela threw him a look that said she dared him to finish that sentence. “Look, I’m just saying, that was different. We never--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Angela huffed, seeming to lose interest as she returned to her notebook, closing it as she began to tidy up her equipment.

A thought came to Jack then. “So, about my visor?”

“Oh, right. Mei has it at the moment. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave it to her to tinker with.”

Jacks crossed his arms, not liking the idea of someone else messing with his equipment. “Should I ask why?”

Angela shrugged, opening a cabinet filled with various bottles and beakers. “Well, for one, it was pretty much smashed to pieces. The visor is completely cracked so it’s not like you would have been able to do anything with it if you had it. But she told me she would try to fix it. She’s more of a weather expert, but she’s not half bad with machines. Although, I’m told we're getting a new member soon who’s specializes in that kind of thing. I believe she’s from some private corporation. Vishkar, maybe?”

Vishkar? Jack knew that name; it was a large company that had its hands in quite a few development projects around the globe. He’d never given it much thought, just another company trying to make the world a better place, or so he’d been told. “Anything I should know about?”

“I don’t really know the details,” Angela admitted, pulling out a stack of folded clothes from her desk “Honestly, new members have been arriving rather frequently, so I’m just happy to be able to remember everyone’s name. Here. They’re Jesse’s, but they should fit.”

Jack took the clothes offered him, unsurprised by his friend’s nonchalance. “He offered them up on his own?”

“I had Hanzo steal them for me,” she said, unconcerned by the fact. “Speaking of, what do you say we go meet everyone? I’ll show you your room on the way.”

Jack’s room was on a lower level, and at least one floor below the nearest member. Angela had assumed he’d appreciate the privacy, which he did. It wasn’t much, a simple bedroom, front room, and kitchen with a full bath. Angela looked at the set up rather disdainfully, but Jack figured it was the nicest he’d had in years.

They walked to the upper levels then, idle conversation as Angela once again assured him she hadn’t thrown out his jacket and would get someone to patch it if he was going to throw a fit about it. As they reached yet another level, Jack could hear distant shouting followed by a rather loud cheer down one of the halls. Angela guided him down it, the voices growing louder as they approached.

With the press of a button, the sound came at him full force, a large TV at the head of the room surrounded by enough people to make his head spin.

“That was a total foul!” the one said, standing from the couch and looking toward the woman at his right.

She patted him reassuringly. “Don’t worry, love. They’re still ahead.”

Now that was a voice he remembered.

Angela cleared her throat rather loudly, a few heads turning her way. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to-

“So this is like the Jack Morrison?” a woman said from his left, appearing to be emptying a large bag of popcorn into a bowl rather boredly. “Not that impressive, if you ask me. He looks like my appa.”

A flash of blue light caught the corner of his eye and he found himself being pulled into a tight hug, almost crushing.

“Oh gosh, Jack. We thought you were dead! And then Angie told us the good news and I just couldn’t stop worrying about you--”

Lena continued blubbering on, pausing only to smack him in the chest roughly before hugging him again. The contact made him sense, but there was a kind of comfort in her presence, a familiarity he felt himself clinging to as he looked around the room.

“It is good to see you are well.” A man was standing politely behind her, the glowing green lines of his armor almost mesmerizing. He recalled his conversation with Angela earlier, cyborg…

“Genji,” Jack said, nodding in both greeting and gratitude.

Genji titled his head a bit, and Jack wondered if that was his version of a smile.

“Come on, now Lena. Get off,” Angela broke in, pulling her off of Jack. Jack turned and saw there were tears in her eyes when Lena hugged her, too, thanking her.

Jack knew he should be touched, warmed by his friend’s affections, but all he felt was a deep emptiness within his chest, the decades between them too vast. So he stood there awkwardly, unsure of what he was to do now.

“Look, you broke him,” the unimpressed woman said, one arm cradling the popcorn bowl as she popped a piece into her mouth.

The man who shouted earlier stood beside her, reaching a hand into the bowl. “Come on now, Hana. Just because everyone thinks Soldier 76 is mean and scary doesn’t mean he really is, right?” He looked toward Jack expectantly, and Jack could only stare back, squinting a bit as he found his vision blurring a bit.

“See, now he’s glaring at you,” Hana said, and the man laughed. “Name’s Hana. Hana Song. But you can call me D.Va if you want. This is Lucio. He’s dangerously unsuspecting of everyone.”

Lucio glared at her. “I’m just trying to be nice.” He turned toward Jack, apologizing.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but Lena beat him to it.

“It’s not true, is it?” she said, pushing against his side. “You’re still fun and kinda simple, right? Not some evil goon that fights for evil and stuff, yeah?”

Jack wondered if he should be offended by that first part. “No?”

Lena jumped in excitement, zooming around the room a moment before appearing back at Angela’s side, hugging her again. “I can’t wait to tell Emily!” she said and Jack ignored the name for now, yet another person in a long list of people he would have to meet.

“Jack, you remember Lena, Genji,” Angela explained, if only for formalities.

Jack let himself really look at the two of them. Lena still looked as young as ever, goggles haphazardly pushed back atop her head, smiling without a care. Genji, on the other hand.

“You’ve changed,” he said before he could stop, and Genji laughed.

“Yes, you could say that.”

Jack, embarrassed, turned to Angela expectantly. She seemed to be stifling a laugh herself.

“Hana and Lucio are two of our newest recruits,” she continued after composing herself, pointing them as they’d returned to the couch. Jack realized they’d been watching a soccer match.

Hana turned at the sound of her name, looking squarely at Jack. “I think I lied. You look more like my hal-abeoji.”

This time, Jack knew he was supposed to take offense to that.

“Ignore her,” Angela said, waving her away. “She’s grows on you after a while. Anyway, you’ve already met Fareeha, Winston’s locked in his lab so we’ll go see him later, Mei’s still working on your visor, Hanzo is…probably with Jesse.”

Hana and Lucio seemed to give each other a look then, and Lena giggled. Angela shushed all three of them.

“If you are looking for my brother, I believe he trains around this time. Angela is most likely correct in assuming Jesse will be there as well,” Genji interjected helpfully.

“That actually works perfectly!” Angela quickly turned Jack toward the door, showing him out. “Mei’s lab is on that side of the base, so we can stop there afterwards if that’s alright with you? Jesse might not be in the mood to talk, but Hanzo should at least be willing to hold a civil conversation.”

“Well, that’s a statement I never thought I’d hear,” Hana said aloud to the room, and Lucio seemed to nod in agreement.

Angela shook her head, obviously disappointed in the both of them. Jack wondered if that happened a lot. “Follow me?” she said, and led him out of the room with a simple wave to the others.

The training arenas were larger than Jack remembered, the towering walls at least three levels high, if not four.

“The high ceilings are good for members like Fareeha and I who have aerial skills,” Angela explained as they walked. She was leading them toward the third station down, lights on and the sound of gunfire echoing around them.

There was a man standing outside of it, rather sullen as he watched the combatant inside carefully.

“How is he?” Angela asked as they approached. There was genuine concern on her face, and Jack saw that mirrored in the man’s own.

“He will be fine. He followed me here when I left this morning. He told me he needed to ‘blow off some steam.’” The man turned around as a timer began counting down the session, an air horn signaling its end.

“Hanzo, this is Jack. I’m sure you’ve heard all about him. Jack, this is Hanzo. Genji’s brother, if you remember.”

There was a moment where Jack thought to ask, but decided not to; like he’d told Angela before, he wasn’t surprised by much anymore. “Nice to meet you.”

That seemed to surprise Hanzo, but he took the hand offered him anyway. “I have heard much about you, Jack Morrison.”

“Good things, I hope?’ Jack asked, a touch of humor to his voice, but Hanzo seemed to ignore it, turning to an approaching McCree.

“What’s the matter, darlin’? You got that crease in your brow again that means you’re thinkin’ too much,” he said, coming up beside Hanzo and leaning against him, one elbow propped on his shoulder. Hanzo seemed to detest it, but said nothing. He looked to Jack, smile fading. “Oh. Well, hello there. Made it through the night, did ya? Sometimes Angela’s just too damn good at her job.”

“Jesse, please. We can have some kind of civility here, can’t we?” Angela seemed exhausted as she spoke, making Jack wonder how long they’d talked about this prior to now. “Besides, given recent…developments, he could be key in helping us get him back.”

“Getting who back?” Jack asked, and Angela seemed to avoid his gaze, lips pressed together as if she realized she’d said too much. He looked to Hanzo and McCree, but the two only looked at each other, as if expecting this.

“I guess she hasn’t told ya, everythin’ after all,” McCree eventually said, tipping his hat back with a smug look on his face. “Our top priority at the moment is a man I’d say you’re pretty familiar with. Seems you’re not the only one who’s got a knack for coming back from the dead. Thanks to Ang’s help here, of course.”

The look Angela threw him told Jack that she wanted McCree to please, please, please shut up. She turned to Jack, reaching a hand out to him. “Listen, I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to throw too much at you at once. I know how close you two were, we all were, and I didn’t want you to think--”

“What’s going on? Who’s he talking about?” Jack asked again, and McCree rolled his eyes, as if he was being obtuse on purpose. Something like disbelief began to creep over him then, making his head swim. There was no way, no absolute way--

“Gabriel’s alive, Jack,” Angela finally admitted, the words hitting Jack hard, his chest tightening and the scar across his face itching at the memories exploding behind his eyes. “I should know, I helped make sure of it. But he’s not…Gabriel’s not--”

“He’s a goddamn shadow of death now, thanks to Ang, and it’s our job to stop him. You can either help us or not, I don’t rightly care either way. I know you two had a fallin’ out and, ya know, now that I think about it, this is probably great news to you. Gabe, the bad guy, and you still the hero. It’s what you always wanted, right? Ever since you got that goddamn promotion, you always--”

Jack hadn’t even realized he’d hit McCree until he heard Angela yelling at him, Hanzo stepping in between them as McCree sat himself up from the floor, one hand covering his cheek. A smile seemed to spread across the man’s face, breaking into a loud, hollow laugh.

“Should’ve known better than to talk bad about the good ol’ commander like that, right? Gabe always said me runnin’ my mouth would get me hurt eventually.”

Angela tried to defend him, but Jack pushed her away as he walked away, the red of his visor coming to him like a shadow, blinding his vision. He needed to walk, he needed to get out of that room, he needed to breathe.

“Jack? Jack!”

Jack didn’t bother to reply, focusing solely on the floor beneath his feet, trying his best not to trip as his vision focused in and out, pushing back the red. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, but all he could see was McCree’s smug face, the faintest memory of a familiar smile just behind it, taunting him.

It was over. It was supposed to be over! Jack cursed aloud, resisting the urge to slam his fist into the metal walls of the hall. He thought he’d left it all behind, that he could move on. But he should have known better, expected nothing less; this was his life, and it was damn well going to make him suffer until the bitter end.

Chapter Text

Sombra sighed.

She reached both arms up, stretching backwards with a yawn before sprawling over her keyboard. Multiple windows were open on her computer, and at least two were currently scanning military data.

She pressed a few buttons when a password was required, bypassing it easily. She almost slipped up when two windows overlapped each other, breaking her key stride, but recovered with practiced ease. Oh, how she longed to be working from her own base, her multiple holo screens and tech more sophisticated and refined than any of Talon’s crap. But in order for them to trust her, she had to work under their rules, even if she was still doing her own thing on the side.

A ping alerted her of an incoming message. She swiped it open, reading a line of co-ordinates that had her grinning ear to ear.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

The kitchen Talon allowed their operatives to use was small to say the least. A silver counter with marching cabinets lined the far wall. There was a refrigerator to the right and a stove top to the left. A slightly crooked metal table sat in the middle of the room, chairs spread haphazardly from whoever had been in there last. It honestly looked more like an upgraded break room than an actual kitchen, but Amelie didn’t seem to mind.

She was currently stirring something in a large pot, chopped vegetables tossed off to the side. Empty, but used mixing bowls covered the counter.

“Smells good,” Sombra said as she entered. She came up to the pot, lifting her face forward to stare inside.

Amelie smacked her with a wooden spoon. “It is our dinner,” she said, as if that was all she needed to explain before returning to her work. The woman loved to cook, had confessed to Sombra that the act helped her feel something, something other than the thrill of a one shot kill. But she was a stickler for meal times, and if something was for dinner, it was only for dinner, not before or after.

“Ay, ay. You don’t need to break my nose.” Sombra rubbed her face with a frown, before plopping down into one of the chairs. She snapped her fingers together, a holoscreen appearing above her wrist. “Have you seen Gabriel? I have something he might like to see.”

Amelie turned, suspicious. “Can you not find him yourself?”

Sombra huffed. “Talon made sure to keep their own systems off grid. Even I’m not allowed anywhere near them.” Not that that had stopped her from hacking into them anyway. But she liked to pretend otherwise, for appearances sake.

Amelie only hummed, seeming unconvinced by her words. “I have informed him when dinner will be ready. He will be here then.”

Sombra groaned, sinking into her chair. She hated waiting.

When Gabriel finally appeared, Sombra couldn't help the smirk on her face. She loved seeing the man out of his suit, his element. Dressed down like everyone else, he was just a man with a past; vulnerable and, most importantly, exploitable.

“Feet off the table,” Gabriel huffed, taking a seat opposite her.

Sombra watched as wisps of black smoke rolled over his shoulders and escaped from under the black beanie he always wore. “How many shots this time?” she asked, removing her feet from the table. Her eyes followed the smoke as it rose from the man and disappeared. “You were gone a long time, viejo.”

Gabriel shot her a look. “It’s none of your concern.”

Amelie eyed the two of them a moment, ladling food into three bowls. In the silence, she placed a bowl before them both and seated herself.

“What is it?” Sombra asked, poking the food with her spoon.

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it,” Amelie replied coldly, not even bothering to look Sombra’s way. Gabriel seemed amused by this, his usual grimace fading away to a small smile.

Sombra leaned back her chair, letting the spoon clang loudly against the bowl. She snapped her fingers, her holoscreen reappearing. “I received coordinates an hour ago. Thought they might be of interest to you.” She plucked the holoscreen from her wrist, sliding it on the table and spreading it large enough for the other’s to see. “It seems our friend’s been spotted just south of the Gibraltar border.”

If Gabriel was affected by this news, he didn’t show it. Amelie, on the other hand, seemed intrigued.

“That is the location of the new Overwatch base, is it not? You believe he is to join them?”

Sombra shrugged, flipping the holoscreen back toward herself. “I’m not sure. But if he is, I thought Talon might like to know.”

“He’s none of our concern,” Gabriel said after a moment of silence, finally looking toward the screen.

Sombra flipped the holo mid-air, pulling up multiple news headlines. “Even after the Los Muertos transfer?” Talon had been aiding the gang with ammunition and fire power, fueling the revolution in hopes enough chaos would allow for easy control. But with Soldier76’s interference, negotiations had been tense as Los Muertos now demanded more protection.

“According to the data, he’s increased in popularity over the past month enough to warrant a 64% recognition status among web users. His name is currently being searched in conjunction with the terms ‘Overwatch’ and ‘Jack Morr--”

“Enough,” Gabriel said, a finality to his tone. He wasn’t angry though, which surprised Sombra. If anything, he just looked tired. “Send the information to intelligence. They’ll deal with it from there.”

Sombra closed the holoscreen with a pinch of her fingers, dejected. She’d expected more of a reaction given the information, and felt a bit cheated for all her hard work.

“No puede seguir corriendo,” she said, hoping to gauge some kind of reaction.

But there was none, Gabriel seeming content to ignore her cryptic words and Amelie knowing better than to ask. What followed was absolute silence as the three of them ate, Sombra making weird faces as she scooped the food into her mouth each time Amelie gazed her way. She never received more than an eyeroll in acknowledgement.

There was a knock on Jack’s door.

“Not now, Angela,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He’d taken out the contacts she’d given him, his vision dark yet familiar. Sometimes it was nice to not be able to see anything.

“Ah, Mr. Morrison? I have your visor. Angela had told me you might like it back.”

Jack didn’t recognize the voice, feeling a bit relieved that it wasn’t Angela again. After he’d stormed out of the training room, she’d cornered him on his way back to the room and scolded him for his behavior. They’d fought for a moment, before Jack found himself too tired to care. He’d left Angela mid-sentence, hearing rather than seeing her fury as she stormed off in the opposite direction.

Jack opened the door to find a shorter woman looking up at him. She was a little more than a vague shape at the moment, but her voice sounded kind as she offered the visor his way, head down.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I’m not use to this kind of tech,” she apologized as Jack accepted the visor. “I’m Mei, by the way.”

Jack turned the visor over in his hands. From what he could feel, it seemed at least in one piece.

“Try it on and tell me what you think,” Mei said, sounding excited.

Jack placed the visor over his face, the familiarity of the red hue calming him to a degree. It took a minute to boot up, but once it did he was finally able to see Mei clearly.

“I updated the screen resolution a bit and added a few app functions that I thought you might find helpful.” Mei reached out a hand and pressed the right side of his visor, activating a scroll through menu. It’d never done that before.

“You had basic targeting screens and vision enhancers, but I thought maybe you might want to personalize it a little more. So far I’ve only added a search bar and a weather app, but if there’s anything else you might need, just let me know!”

Jack pressed the side of the visor again, scrolling to the tab labeled WEATHER. When he pressed it, a sun appeared over his visor smiling with two clouds floating nearby. The large numbers beneath told him it was 82 degrees outside currently.

When it disappeared, Mei’s face took the sun’s place. She seemed apprehensive as she watched him carefully. Jack prodded the sides of the visor, feeling a bit loose in some places, but overall better than being in two pieces.

“Thank you,” Jack said, removing the visor as he felt a headache coming on. The LED screen was brighter than he was used to.

That seemed to appease Mei. “You’ve very welcome.” She moved to leave, content in their interaction, but hesitated a moment. “Oh. I don’t know if you’ve already been told, but Winston asked for everyone to meet in his lab. I’m not sure why, but I thought you might like to be there.”

Jack would admit he was appreciative of the information. If Winston had called a meeting, it was most likely Talon related, and Angela keeping that information from him wasn’t unexpected.

Mei left before he could reply, disappearing down the hall. Jack looked down at his visor, glad that, for the time being, he couldn’t see his reflection in it.

Winston’s lab was the same as always; empty peanut butter jars everywhere. There were an array of desks covered in half-built tech and loose leaf papers. With his visor on, he could see Angela standing beside Winston on the second floor, both studying the large holoscreens in front of them.

When he entered the room, all eyes turned to him. Angela’s gaze was the heaviest.

“You came,” was all she said, her tone curt and professional. However, the look on her face was anything but.

“I’m part of the team, aren’t I?” Jack asked, not wanting to get into it now.

Luckily, Winston had come bounding over to him, wrapping him into a rather bone-crushing embrace. “Jack! It is so good to see you again.” When he released Jack, a smile on his face, the tension in the air seemed to dissipate. Everyone in the room seemed to return to their own conversations, except for Angela who turned toward the holoscreens once more.

“It’s good to be back,” Jack replied once he got the air back into his lungs. While things had been tense, he couldn’t deny that the old base had been a welcome sight.

Winston seemed appeased by this, motioning for Jack to follow him toward the holoscreens. “We picked up Talon activity just beyond the border at a shipping dock. We sent Genji and McCree ahead for surveillance, and they’ve confirmed the transfer of at least ten containers of various weaponry. Where it’s going, we can’t say. But wherever it is, it can’t be good.”

Jack studied the map a moment. “Any sign of Reaper or Widowmaker?”

Winston shook his head. “Unclear at the moment. McCree says he’ll let us know the moment he spots them.”

Jack nodded, turning to the rest of the room. “So when are we leaving?”

Angela seemed stunned. “Jack, you can’t seriously think we’d let you--”

“I’m not asking for your permission,” he said, turning back to Winston. “How many operatives?”

Winston turned to his own personal holoscreen, scrolling a moment. “Estimates are around 30-40.”

“With McCree and Genji already there, a four-person team should be enough to--”

“Now hold on, Jack.” Mercy was pulling at his arm, defiant. “As your Doctor, I have to order you to stand down. You’re still recovering. I’ll take Lena and D.Va with me, and you can stay with the others as backup--”

Jack pulled away from her grip. “I’m going.” His tone was final, and the red of his visor only fueled his anger at Angela’s condescending treatment. “You stay with Winston, see if you can find out anything else about where that cargo ship is headed. If it leaves that hold, we need someone to go after it.” He looked toward the rest of the room, all eyes on him. “Anybody else a healer?”

Lucio raised his hand immediately. “I am.”

“If he’s going, so am I.” Hana stepped forward, arms crossed in a way that challenged Jack to deny her. “I’d hate to miss out on seeing the great Commander Morrison in action.”

Jack sighed, but agreed. “Fine. But you two stick together. Watch out for each and other keep everyone safe.” He spotted Mei in his peripheral then, stepping forward.

“I can provide defense, if you’d like.” She smiled, her body language confident. “No gets past my ice.”

“If their sniper is truly there, you will need someone to take care of her.” Hanzo had been standing toward the back of the room, bow already strung across his back. Jack assumed he’d been carrying the thing since McCree and Genji left, eager to follow.

“Oh, me too!” Lena exclaimed, zooming to the man’s side. “I can focus on finding her. I’m the only one fast enough to sneak up on her.” The surety in her voice made Jack wonder if she’d already done so before.

Before Jack could argue, Winston spoke up. “I think that may be best. While Genji is quick, it may be best to have a team specifically looking out for Widowmaker.”

“And Reaper?” Fareeha asked, eyes trained on Jack. “Who is to deal with him?”

“That’s why me and you will be on standby,” Angela said, still at Jack’s side. “We’ll hang back, keeping a watch out for the ship and work as backup in case anything goes wrong.” She looked toward Jack, waiting for him to argue. But the plan was good, and he found he had no reason too.

“We leave now,” Jack said, motioning toward the holoscreens. “Come in from the Northeast since they’ll be expecting us from the South. They know where our base is, they know we’re nearby, and they’re most certainly prepared for our arrival. The initial attack will be our best shot at taking them down. We leave in ten.”

Everyone seemed to agree with this, and quickly left the room to prepare. Angela stayed behind, keeping her place beside him.

“I hate to admit, but you’ve still got it,” she said, a ghost of a smile on her face. She placed a hand on his arm, reassuring, before meeting a waiting Fareeha at the door.

“It really is good to have you back, Jack,” Winston said not soon after, echoing Angela’s statement. “We’ve been in need of a good leader.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, walking away. He appreciated the sentiment, but knew deep down that a good leader was the last thing he was.

The landed about a mile out, knowing the noise from the plane was too loud to allow them any closer. It was approaching nightfall as they finally arrived at the dock, the sun just disappearing beneath the water. It left long shadows at their feet, filling Jack’s thoughts with black smoke and a bone white mask.

“Everybody in position?” Jack heard affirmations from everyone except Hana, who scoffed into her mic.

“I was born ready, old man.”

Jack couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the woman’s eagerness, but appreciated her confidence. As the sun finally set, Jack made his move toward one of the storehouses, steps quick yet careful as he surveyed the area.

“All clear here.” He said, pushing open the nearest door. “Any sign of Genji or McCree?”

“Just peachy, commander.” McCree’s voice over the coms surprised him, but he brushed off the snide comment and continued forward into the storehouse.

“Any sign of the sniper?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” Hanzo replied.

“They have already cleared out the last of the shipping containers,” Genji added, voice sounding troubled.

Jack exited the other side of the storehouse, now facing the water. He turned to his left and spotted the ship two buildings down.

“Do you need me to stop’em?” Hana asked, sounding eager.

“Not yet. They don’t know we’re here and the confusion from a full-frontal attack may give them the time they need to get on their way. We approach with caution, but keep an eye out.”

As he walked forward, he heard a ping and then Angela speaking in his ear. She’d obviously switched channels.

“I don’t like this Jack. It’s too quiet. Genji says they haven’t seen much more movement than a few guards in the last hour.”

“You think everyone left?”

“If the job was done, it would make sense. Only need a few on hand to ensure departure. But why wait the hour? They should have been gone by now.”

“All the better for us.”

“You know what I mean, Jack.”

“We’ll be fine.” His tone was final, and Angela seemed to take the hint, clicking off. As he moved, he crossed paths with a lone guard. Before the man could speak, Jack hit him in the head with the end of his pulse rifle and sent him to the ground.

As he got closer to the ship, Jack couldn’t help but ponder over Angela’s warning. They should have left by now…

“Hanzo, she’s on the boat!” Lena’s voice was panicked, and Jack could see her blue lights up ahead.

“Shit.” He ran forward, disregarding the complete lack of guards as he did. Angela was right. This was undoubtedly a trap.

“Hanzo!” Lena yelled again over the coms.

“I’m fine,” came the reply, Hanzo’s voice sounding pained. “She only grazed me.”

“We’ve got vans coming in from the South,” McCree shouted, the sound of tires screeching over his com.

Jack turned the corner at the next storehouse, bypassing the boat to head South. Hanzo and Lena could deal with her for now.

When he came around, McCree and Hana were holding their own against a wave of gunmen. Mei was providing as much defense as she could, but her ice walls wouldn’t hold forever.

Genji appeared at his side. “Her walls will not hold.”

“I know,” Jack said, frustrated by his own incompetence. He was so eager to get back out in the field, to get to Talon, he didn’t even think about this being a trap. If it was just him, he would have found a way to escape, probably just barely, but he would. He wasn’t used to working with a team again, however, and found himself at a loss.

“We should get someone coming in from behind. Tell Mei to keep up her wall while McCree and I circle around behind them.”

Jack could only nod, motioning for Genji to do just that. He took McCree’s place as the two disappeared behind him.

“Sniper on the move,” Hanzo said and Jack stole a glance behind him to see a woman running above the storehouse roofs.

“She’s heading into the storehouse. I’ve got her.” Lena replied.

Jack hesitated. If Widowmaker was heading into the storehouse then who—?

The woman landed easily beside Hana, one hand placed gently upon its outer haul. She was dressed in all purple and her gloves seemed to glow in the dark. “Nice mech.” Her touch instantly fizzled with electricity and Jack watched Hana’s mech droop, powering down.

“What the hell,” Hana said over the coms. “My suits down. There’s no power.”

Jack shot a blast off at the woman, but she jumped before it could land. She began running toward Mei who attempted to dodge. But the woman simply brushed her hand along Mei’s blaster, electricity fizzling once more as Mei dropped instantly.

“My blaster’s fried!” she said, panic in her voice.

Jack cursed, but felt relieved when Mei’s ice wall had melted and he found McCree and Genji on the other side. Various operatives lay at their feet.

“I’m sending in Fareeha,” Angela said firmly over the coms and Jack could only affirm the action.

Hana had just removed herself from her mech, wielding her blaster, and began helping McCree and Genji pick off the last few operatives, her aim and accuracy impressive. Before he could move to aid her, a pool of black smoke appeared at her feet and slowly rose, towering over her.

Jack ran as fast as he could. “Hana, move!”

Hana turned just in time to see the twin guns materialize in front of her face, her own blaster aimed upward. Jack ran into her full force, shoving her aside as Reaper’s guns fired.

They both fell hard, sprawling across the concrete. Hana’s blaster had slid from her grip, and she scurried after it.

Reaper disappeared into the ground before reappearing in front of her, blocking the path to her blaster. “You can’t escape.” His voice was ominous and felt heavy in the air. Hana’s expression remained one of defiance as she faced the man’s twin guns head on.

“Watch me,” she said, having spotted Jack running towards her and shooting two blasts at Reaper’s guns.

The man staggered, dropping his weapons, and Hana slipped past him to grab her blaster and get a few good shots in before running in the opposite direction. She knew when she was overpowered and, for a moment, Jack appreciated she was smart like that.

Hana came up behind him on his left, blaster aimed as Reaper stared them down, black smoke rising around him. “What do we do?”

Jack glanced behind him, seeing the path was clear back to McCree and the others. “I’ll fire off cover shots and you book it back to the others. Don’t look back. I’ll be right behind you.”

Hana only nodded. “Understood.”

“Ready?” Hana took a step back, pivoting to turn into a sprint. Jack took aim as Reaper began to approach them, slowly, as if confident of the two going nowhere he couldn’t. “Go! Now.”

Hana turned to run, and Jack almost missed the ease with which Reaper apparated a new gun and shot at her. She couldn’t dodge in time, and Jack moved forward to block with the shot. It caught him on his visor, the sound of glass cracking against his face heard as he fell backward, red fading out to black.

Hana had hesitated in her running, panic on her face. “Jack!”

Jack!

Gabriel hesitated at the name, lowering his gun a moment as he watched the young woman turn back toward him, true fear on her face. She looked ready to run back to the soldier’s side, but when she caught Gabriel’s gaze, her expression turned to rage and she instead ran back toward the others.

Gabriel made his way over to the fallen soldier, one foot raising to pin the other down at his chest, gun barrel pressed against his cracked visor. “Get up.” When the man didn’t move, he pushed the barrel closer, part of the visor falling away at the force. “I said move.” When there was still no reply, he let up on the rifle. He was unsure whether the man was dead or simply unconscious, but he didn’t care either way, as long as he wouldn’t get in his way.

He made to walk around the man, but when he did, he caught the exposed side of the man’s face and stopped. There was a long scar traveling down from his temple and across his nose. Curious, Gabriel pushed aside the other half of the visor with his gun, and found the scar to continue down to his jaw. The rest of the face was a familiar one, and he felt the sharp sting of rage course through him.

“Impossible,” Gabriel breathed, feeling as if the whole world had come crashing to a halt. This man should be dead, they both were. There was no possible way that—

His thoughts were stopped as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, reaching back to find an arrow that he easily snapped in half. He turned to find a man on one of the storehouse roofs, already pulling back on another arrow.

“Sorry, luv, but we just got him back.”

Gabriel found the voice familiar and turned to see Lena zooming toward him, pulse guns at the ready. She fired a few shots at his face, catching him off guard. She disappeared in a flash, three more shots hitting him point blank in the back. He stumbled forward.

“Widowmaker, do you copy?” Gabriel said, still bent forward. There was static over the coms. “Sombra?”

A spray of bullets washed over him then, sending him to his knees. The young woman from earlier was staring him down from within her mech suit cannons blazing. He couldn’t move.

“Lo siento,” came Sombra’s reply over the com. “Their security’s a little tighter than I had imagined.”

Gabriel looked up to find a woman in a mech suit hovering above them, a tell-tale rocket launcher in her hand. Sombra was quick on her feet, but no match for someone with a flight advantage.

“Get out however you can. Meet back the base.” Without another word, he let himself fall into the ground, disappearing from sight. He traveled in the shadows until he arrived on the other side of the dock, throwing his shotguns to the ground in frustration.

“It can’t be,” he said aloud as smoke billowed around him, his wounds healing quickly. He disappeared into the dark once more, heading North. It can’t.