Chapter 1: Sweet Dreams are Made of Bees
Chapter Text
Screeching tires, crunching metal, a bystander nearby screamed. The tang of blood and smoke stung the nose of the young woman lying on the asphalt and suddenly she found she couldn’t breathe, that every movement sent streaks of unbearable pain coursing through every part of her body.
“Let me through, I am a doctor!”
Camphor and tea flooded her senses as she dove into a pair of cerulean eyes.
A flash of light, the overpowering scent of hospital, the squeaking of wheels, and…
Relief, if only momentary.
“Go… Change your fate…” the name died on the angel’s lips as the heart monitor stalled.
You awoke with a start, coughing heavily and gasping for air as if you’d been unable to breathe while you’d been asleep. Sweat clung greedily to your skin, sending cold shivers dancing across your arms, exposed to the early morning chill. While you scolded yourself for forgetting to close the window last night, your mind mulled over the scattered remnants of your dream. It was nothing new to you, in fact, this was the fifth time you’d had it within the past month alone, and it had good reason to be showing up so often; in the five years of life you could remember, that was the first comprehensible memory. Well, partially comprehensible – you still didn’t understand parts of it.
Thinking, you rolled over and stared at the ceiling, running your fingers over the elegant silver band resting on your right ring finger. Your name was Briallen Marsh, you were twenty-six years old, you were currently jobless, single, and suffering from amnesia. You had been in an accident five years ago involving a speeding four-wheeler and your inattention to the traffic lights. You’d been hit head on and flew about fifteen feet into the rear windshield of a smaller car with such force that it was actually knocked askew. It was a miracle you survived; had not a doctor been there to keep you stable until they could get you to a hospital, you would have died on the spot. Or so the nurses had told you once you regained consciousness. You’d wanted to thank your saviour, but apparently they had disappeared before you woke up, they did leave a name, though; Doctor Angela Ziegler. There was the possibility the nurses had been lying, but you liked to think the best of people before you really knew them.
“Maow,” came the plaintive cry of your roommate before he leapt onto your stomach, causing you to let out a breathy “Oof!”
Chuckling, you reached up and scratched the top of his head. “Is it really that time already, Piddie?”
He responded with a soft chirp.
Euripides, or Piddie for short, was your partner in crime and had been with you all five years of your known life. You’d found him, a sick little Cymric kitten, wandering behind the café you worked in for a while back in Switzerland and it was love at first sight. You’d taken him home and nursed him back to health, naming him after one of your favourite ancient playwrights. In all your five years of living, you don’t think you’d ever met a sweeter cat.
You groaned softly, glancing over at the clock beside your bed to check the time; 5:30 AM, a good three hours before you’d normally wake up. Great. Piddie must have sensed your lack of unconsciousness and decided to take advantage of it. One of these days you were going to just ignore him, roll over, and go back to sleep. But today was not going to be the day. Gathering yourself together, you sat up and gently scooped the furry baby up into your arms and trudged your way into the bathroom, blinking the slight bit of sleep fuzz out of your eyes.
“What do you think, Piddie, am I gonna get a call today?” you asked, yawning as you set him down on the little towel bin on the back of your toilet and went to turn the shower on.
Euripides settled down happily amongst the fluffy fabric and purred, flicking his ears.
You chuckled and peeled off your pajamas before climbing into the shower, letting the lukewarm water slowly wake your tired muscles. This was your favourite part of the morning, especially when you could get your old handheld radio working and play some half-decent music to work alongside the semi-cold water to help wake you up. The stations in your area hardly ever played anything good, but it was better than a depressing, silent morning.
Euripides followed you out of the bathroom when you were done, brushing against your wet legs as you searched for something to wear and padding quickly after you when you were dressed and went to make your morning tea. Such was your morning routine; wake up, shower, get dressed, start tea, feed Euripides, edit tea, drink tea and read a good book with the cat on your lap. This had been your routine for a good month while you waited to get calls back for the jobs you had applied for.
“Maybe that cute guy who works at the coffee shop will be there today and a date might spurr out of our awkward small talk,” you said jokingly, pulling the teabag out of your mug.
Euripides gave you the cat version of a frown, pulling his ears back a bit and flicking his nonexistent tail as he took a bite of his Dancy Feast breakfast.
You laughed a bit, spooning a bit of sugar into your tea before picking up your book and heading to the little living room space of your apartment. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s far outside the realm of possibilities for me. I guess I’ll just end up being a crazy cat lady, then. What do you think of having, like, seven siblings, Piddie?”
He growled softly, scarfing down the rest of his breakfast before racing into the living room and hunkering down on your lap, making you laugh again.
“Alright, alright, I guess I’ll have to be a crazy cat lady with one cat, though I don’t know how that’s going to work,” you said, petting his head, quickly settling down and slipping into the world of fantasy printed on the pages in your hands.
The morning passed quickly and quietly with no form of disturbance, that is, until it hit 7:00, when your phone suddenly sprang to life with the familiar ringtone that meant an unfamiliar number was calling.
You sprang from the couch, nearly knocking the china mug onto the hardwood floor and swiped up your phone from where it lay on the coffee table. You glanced at the number, only barely registering that it read “Private”, and answered it without a second thought.
“Miss Briallen Marsh?” the caller asked before you could even say hello. The voice was deep, slightly gravelly and familiar in such a way that it sent shivers down your spine. Strange, you hadn’t known anyone with such a voice, not that you could remember anyway. Maybe it was one of those weird deja vu moments.
Brushing off the strange feeling, you nodded, shooing Euripides away from your feet where he circled eagerly. “Uh, yes, this is her! How can I help you?” ‘ You’ve got to sound cheerful, Bri, Make them like you.’
“I’m calling in regards to the application you sent in. Are you available for an interview later today?”
Honey-brown eyes peered back at you from the glass of the cafe window, nerves sparkling through their depths. You’d dressed nicely for the occasion - a gentle, off-shoulder bow-knot ruffle blouse tucked into a slim black skirt -, done your hair up in a somehow messy and neat ponytail, and even done your makeup, though it wasn’t much. Your entire appearance screamed “assistant”, and that was perfect, it was what you were going for, after all. If you nailed this interview, you were set for life, able to do the little things you enjoyed doing (making coffee, organising paperwork, all the little menial tasks that made life flow easier in a company), and you were going to be paid handsomely for it. Which made you very nervous.
A knock on the window startled you and you looked down to see a young couple staring oddly up at you. The older of the two women waved a hand and offered a confused “Why are you staring?” look to you. Embarrassed, you held up an apologetic hand, chuckling awkwardly as you turned away, rubbing the back of your neck.
‘ Good going, Bri, ’ you thought, taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to step into the cafe. ‘ How awkward can you possibly be? Try not to be like this during the interview… you need the job and the cash. Living in the apartment isn’t exactly cheap, you know… ’
“Welcome to Lucky’s!” a waitress greeted you, smiling over in your direction as she finished serving coffee to a table of drooling teenage boys. “Just take a seat and one of our staff will come take your order when you’re ready!”
“Actually,” you started quietly, suddenly conscious of how out of place you looked; everyone here was dressed casually in jumpers and scarves and the occasional hat to battle the autumn chill, and here you were, trussied up and sticking out like a sore thumb. You shrunk a bit where you stood, trying to make yourself look smaller, less of a social target. “I’m here for an interview. Is there a Mr. Jones here?”
The waitress’ smile faded a bit as she thought, her bottom lip poking out, making her look absolutely adorable. “Um, I don’t believe so. Stay right there while I double check for you, love.” She offered you another dazzling smile before gliding away, the boy’s gazes following her, enraptured. You didn’t blame them; she was very attractive.
Nodding, you stood there awkwardly, holding your light autumn jacket in your arms and trying to not feel so out of place. You felt like everyone’s gaze was on you, even though they probably weren’t. You weren’t an important person, so why would they be concerned with you? Even still, your self-consciousness didn’t let up and you felt like you were under a spot light.
After what felt like an eternity of standing on stage after forgetting your lines, Honey, the pretty waitress whose nametag you could now read, came back with a soft, apologetic smile and a menu. “My apologies, ma’am, but there is no Mr. Jones here now. But, we can get you settled at a table to wait for him, if you’d like,” she offered.
You smiled gratefully, happy to be moved out of the sight of the other patrons, and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you,” you murmured, accepting the menu and following her to a table near the back. She’d obviously noted your discomfort.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to decide what you’d like, and if I’m busy, I’ll send Raeven to take care of you,” she said, giving you a little curtsey and a charming wink before walking away.
Your cheeks flared up with a slight blush at the gesture, and you cleared your throat, dropping your gaze down to the menu. You’d been to Lucky’s before; a quaint little cafe a few blocks away from your London apartment, it had been a fan favourite amongst your small group of friends. Anytime you guys met up for an afternoon, Lucky’s was the place you hung out at before and after every event, it was where you celebrated little victories, like getting a promotion, winning the gaming competition (which was really Gibson and Iris’ thing, but you all supported them anyway), and finally succeeding in making a decent casserole. Your group of friends was small, but it meant the world to you, even if more than half of them were halfway across the world right now; online friends were the greatest, in your opinion.
Speaking of the devil, just as you had decided what you wanted - a simple chai tea latte - your phone exploded with the usual vibrations which meant the triplets, Iris, Caelen, and Sylvia, were awake and active. Smiling, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to check your group chat.
The first thing you saw was a picture Caelen had taken of the three of them, with Caelen looking to be the first one fully awake. Iris was frowning with a toothbrush in her mouth, giving the camera the middle finger, and Sylvia was staring absentmindedly across the room from her bunk bed, her hair an absolute disaster. Caelen was smiling and posing with the all too iconic peace sign. The caption read; “ GM frm Washington! ”
You held back a chuckle, fondly letting your gaze rest on the image. You missed the triplets, ever since they’d moved to America with their aunt, things had been a lot more quiet around here. They’d been the ones who came up with the nicknames in the chat; you were “Bee” because you were “as sweet as honey”, Gibson was “Hacker” because he worked in database security for his father’s company and knew the ins and outs of pretty much every corporate database out there, Sylvia was “Baby” because she was the most innocent out of the group, which was surprising because she lived with Caelen, “MB” (short for Mama Bear), and Iris “PB” (short for Papa Bear), who were both known to use strings of expletives whenever something even remotely negative happened.
BEE: Good afternoon, lovelies! Is Syl gonna be okay? She looks like she needs some coffee…
MB: Y, she’s fine. Had a lng nght
PB: FFS, MB, we BOTH did! Stp banging ur fwb in the opp room!
BEE: Sheesh, should I go? Do you two need some space? ;)
HACKER: God u 3 woke me up! I had 2 pull an allnter 4 my dad. Some ff broke my firewalls & cracked evrythng wide open
BABY: On behalf of my sisters, I apologise. Is everything going to be alright, Gibson?
You were surprised to see Sylvia joining in the messages, she’d looked so zonked in the photo Caelen had sent that you’d expected her to be offline for the next hour or so.
HACKER: Y, evrythng should b fine. I think I fixed it all. Dad was P.O’ed, tho.
BEE: I can make him some of my famous banoffee pie and bring it by the office after my interview if it helps.
MB: U got the interview??
PB: WTF y ddnt u tell us!!!
BABY: Congratulations, Briallen! I’m sure you’ll do great! Charm their socks off!
HACKER: Congrats! Soon u’ll b makng more thn me!
You chuckled and shook your head as the chat slowly devolved into its usual state. As you watched the messages jump up the screen, you thought back to what had brought you all together. As nerdy as it sounded, you were all major geeks and each a fan of the once mighty Overwatch. Everything had started from a theory board, moved to Instaphoto messages, then to texts, then finally you’d all met in person, right here in Lucky’s. The triplets had lived a lot closer than Washington D.C, USA, in fact, it turned out they had lived in the same apartment building you did currently. Gibson lived a bit further off, in Westminster, but still close enough that the transport from there to Lucky’s wasn’t very expensive. Everyone had lost their minds when they heard you’d been saved by the Dr. Angela Ziegler - you were pretty sure Gibson had a shrine to her somewhere in his house -, and you’d sat around a table near the fireplace just sharing stories and getting to know each other.
“I’m back! So, have you settled on what you want or do I need to give you more time?”
You looked up from your phone screen to see Honey smiling down at you again, a pen and little notepad in hand. Her presence wasn’t exactly nerve-wracking for you, but she did have a personable aura about her that your suddenly shier side battled with.
“Uh, y-yes, just a tai chee latte, I mean, a chai tea latte for me, thanks,” you managed, forcing a small smile as you brushed your bangs back. ‘ Get it together, Bri. You can’t be this awkward when Mr. Jones gets here, you definitely won’t get the job then. ’
Honey giggled and nodded, writing your order down. “Hot or cold, love?”
“Hot, please.”
“Alright! I’ll be back with that in a few minutes. Anything else?” she asked, her smile unfading.
“No, that’s all.”
She nodded again and tucked the pen behind her ear before quite literally sashaying away to take someone else’s order. You felt the blood in your cheeks rise and you swallowed heavily, trying to shake it off. It wasn’t often that you had someone so blatantly flirt with you, but it was a bit jarring each time. You needed moral support for this.
Picking up your phone, you glanced through the messages and asked for help, all of which your friends tried to give you was little to no help at all. They really were great friends.
Half an hour, three lattes, and one piece of cake later, and there was still no Mr. Jones. Honey had upped her charm, loosened up a bit with you, joked a bit, even gave you the cake on the house. All you were waiting for was the bill with her number written on it. That and Mr. Jones. You were starting to get worried. Did something happen? Was he in an accident? Did you have the wrong cafe? What if this was just a prank? Your phone chirruped with a notification and you hastily picked it up, hoping it would help you understand what was going on.
It didn’t.
It was a message from an unknown number, short and simple: The interview is a trap. Get out while you still can.
Panic flooded your system with adrenaline, your mind whirling as your heartbeat sped up. What did that mean? A trap? Well, you certainly couldn’t leave now, not without paying. You looked up, hoping to see Honey somewhere nearby, but, for the first time that evening, she was out of your field of sight, as well as any other server you’d seen that afternoon. What was going on?
You gripped your phone tightly, watching as a man at the table next to yours, stood. He’d been sitting alone since before you came in, sipping the same cup of coffee that was most likely ice cold by now. Your pulse pounded in your ears as he reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol. Three shots into the air was all it took to send people into a panic, running screaming out the door. The only people that remained were a few other patrons who had sat calmly until everyone else had filed out, and yourself.
“Burza, get the door,” the man said, his voice heavy and thick with a Midlands accent. His smile made your skin crawl as he turned to look back at you, something wicked in his eyes. “You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you?”
You swore you felt your phone case crack under the pressure of your grip, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his to see if it had. You felt oddly calm with only an undertone of panic, and the adrenaline coursed through your body as you tensed, ready to leap if the moment presented itself.
The man laughed, a dark sound that was grating to your ears. “Look at you, so coiled up and ready to strike.” He walked around, brushing the muzzle of the gun across your cheek. “Won’t do you much good, though,” he whispered, leaning down to press his nose into your hair, chuckling darkly. “You make one sudden movement and my boys will have you riddled with holes.”
One of the “patrons” cleared her throat, glaring over at the man.
He simply chuckled again, standing up. “And my girls as well. Can’t forget the lovely ladies now, can we?”
“Of course you can’t, that’d be sexist,” you said blithely, eyes following him as he paced a circle around your table. ‘ What the fuck are you doing?? Don’t antagonise the man with the gun! ’
“Ooh, she’s got a mouth on her, eh? Well, then why don’t we make her talk, hmm? Tell me, girlie,” he said, pulling out the chair on the other side of your table, his pistol still aimed at you. “What do you know about Overwatch?”
You couldn’t help but snort softly, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what this is about? I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong person, sir. I’ve no connections to-”
He tipped the pistol up and the bullet grazed your ear, making you freeze, suddenly realising the situation. This man wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. One false move and you’d be dead in a heartbeat. You were treading on eggshells now.
“Th-They are, er, were an organisation created during the Omnic crisis to help defeat the omnics. After the crisis, they continued helping the world until Blackwatch became part of public knowledge and the outcry caused the government to issue the Petras act, which shutdown the organisation and any later resurgence,” you spouted, ignoring the pain in your left ear. “Other than that, I know nothing.” ‘ Liar. You know they’re coming back, albeit quietly. Why are you lying to him? Why put your life in danger to keep that knowledge a secret? ’
“So, if I were to ask you why you were here, you wouldn’t say it’s for an interview with an agent of Overwatch for their open assistant position?” he asked, making your heart beat faster with fear.
“N-No, sir, I’m just here for an-”’ Wait… that number was privated this morning… I wasn’t told what Mr. Jones would look like… What did I sign up for?’
He grinned slyly, tilting the gun a bit as he met your gaze. “Interview, perhaps? Where are they located?”
“What- I don’t, I have no idea what you’re talking about-” you gritted your teeth as another bullet grazed your arm, sinking into the wall behind you. Lucky’s was going to have some big repairs to make if this kept up.
“Who was coming to meet you?”
“I-I don’t know. A Mr. Jones, I’ve never met him. That was all I was told,” you said, squeezing your phone again. The case was definitely cracked, you could feel the plastic edge digging into your fingers, any more force in your grip and you’d have blood trickling down your arm.
“I’ll give you one more chance, Miss Marsh, who was coming to meet you?”
Your phone rang, the same tone from this morning, and you looked down to see the name was “Answer Me”. ‘ Is that… is that them? I have to know… ’
“Who is that?” the man asked, frowning, a dangerous look given your circumstances.
“My mum,” you answered without hesitation, pulling your best poker face. “Please, if I don’t answer it, she’ll get worried. I promise I’ll answer all your questions truthfully, just let me talk to my mum one more time.” You turned your eyes up to him, pleading and biting your lip nervously.
It took a couple precious seconds, but he grunted and gestured to the phone with the gun. “Answer it. Five minutes.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, you picked up the call and nearly smashed the phone against your cheek. “Hi, mum!” you forced yourself to sound cheery, carefully watching the armed man across the table.
“You're still in the cafe, ain’t ya?” the voice that answered had a nice American southern drawl to it, making you smile softly. You knew exactly who this was. This was Overwatch. “They listening in?”
“Yes, mum, I’m still in the cafe. I just got done with the interview, I think I did pretty good. They said they’d contact me again, could possibly be a letter addressed to me,” you answered, praying to god that he understood what you meant. You couldn’t exactly answer his questions with the man listening to your side of the conversation. “How archaic is that?”
“A letter, darlin’? Now that is very archaic,” the cowboy on the line chuckled, surprisingly jovial given the situation. “How many are in the buildin’, sweetpea?”
You had to stop yourself from raising an eyebrow as you let your eyes wander over to the people standing guard; one in the front, two in the back, and one next to you and the man who had nearly shot you twice. ‘ Does he always talk like this?... Fuck, okay, five. Uh, how do I communicate that without giving this away? ’ “Yeah, I know, right? Nobody sends letters anymore. Anyway I think the interviewer was flirting with me, he commented on how pretty I looked at least five times. It must be my outfit because my waitress did the same and everyone was looking at me when I walked in, got up to go to the bathroom at the back of the cafe, and I swear there was even a man watching me while I sat here!”
The man with the gun snorted, scowling a bit. “You wish, sweetheart,” he murmured, flicking the gun a bit. “Two minutes.”
“Five? Really? Huh, thought they’d go all out for this one, ‘specially if so many people were flirtin’ with ya, sugar,” he chuckled, you could hear the smile on his face, even when it faded. “Alright, listen’ here, darlin’, don’t do anything erratic. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear? Jus’ keep distracting them while I break open the back door. I’ll see you in a few, darlin’.”
The line went dead and you cursed mentally, quickly finishing up the one-sided conversation just to keep up the act a little longer. You finished with an exuberant amount of “I love you”s before you finally “hung up” the phone with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, my mum’s a little clingy. Helicopter parent, you know?”
“Whatever, just answer my question, who-” he jumped at a small explosion from the back of the building and the sound of gunfire, his finger slipping on the trigger and sending a bullet into your arm. His face was red with fury when he looked back at you. “You sneaky little bitch! Richards, Shirley! Go take care of that!” he shouted, turning his gaze away for a second.
Without thinking, you sprung into action, flipping the table over and tackling the woman next to you. You wrestled on the ground with her for a few seconds, but your surprise attack had caught her off guard, which made it easier to rip the semiautomatic from her hands.
The man who had shot you let out a furious cry, pushing himself up from off the ground and leveling his gun with your head. “You’re dead, bitch.”
“No, you,” you said, voice clipped as you wasted no time in letting a few rounds rip through him before he could pull the trigger. Your breathing was hard, yet steady as you watched him fall, not necessarily dead, but definitely dying, his pistol skittering across the ground. Pushing yourself up, you snatched up the pistol before the girl could get to it. As you turned, she let out a feral scream and leapt at you, managing to slice open your shoulder with the knife in her hand. Unfortunately for her, the movement put her stomach against the muzzle of the rifle and your reflexes had you squeeze the trigger. She was definitely dead.
Blood splattered your arms and face, ruining both your makeup and your blouse, which, disturbingly enough, was the thing that you were most upset with. You’d just killed two people, went full on fucking combat mode on them, and you were worried about how you looked? You dropped the guns almost as soon as Jesse McCree stepped into view, his eyes wide.
Your gazes met, and you could have sworn in that moment you’d never seen a prettier pair of eyes on a guy. No, that was a lie, you’d seen the old Jack Morrison posters, but goddamn. Had it not been for the fact that you’d seen quite a few pictures of him, you wouldn’t have recognised him without his usual cowboy getup and signature beard. He was dressed in what appeared to be something more along the lines of normal civilian wear, a pair of slacks and a rather nice looking, yet blood splattered, suit. He looked nice, even if a bit feral.
“Hey there, cowboy,” you croaked, smiling a bit. “You’re late.”
He stared at you, wide-eyed for a second, before pointing at the bodies near your feet. “Did you do this?”
You cringed a bit. “Uh, yeah. Self… Self-defense. The fat one would have killed me had I not done something. Didn’t mean for it to go this far…” You reached up to rub the back of your neck and hissed as pain ripped through your arm. Oh, yeah, you’d forgotten you’d actually gotten shot. And stabbed. Endorphins and shock can be wonderful at times.
He frowned and made his way over to you in a few strides, gently gripping your arm to inspect it. “Damn, an’ here I was hopin' to get you outta here unharmed. There goes that dream, I suppose.”
Your head reeled with the scent of whiskey and cigars that came with him, and his warmth made you want to press yourself against him. Thankfully, you were in a right enough mind not to do so, and you just watched as he gently wrapped your wound up in some fabric he ripped from his suit shirt.
“Well, I had a dream of getting an interview and landing a job today, so I guess we were both disappointed,” you quipped softly, the moment not quite sinking in yet. “And you’re lucky, if you had come in any earlier and I hadn’t dropped the guns, you might be dead where you stood.”
He looked up at you, confusion dancing through his hazel eyes before he laughed, a deep rolling thunder that made you smile even as your arm throbbed. “Wow, you are a hoot. Alright, let’s getcha somewhere more secure, sweetpea. The monkey’s dyin’ to see ya.”
‘ The monkey? That must be Winston.. ’ “I… have a name, you know,” you said, watching him go retrieve your phone and jacket, your eyes meeting his again as he placed the jacket over your shoulders.
He smiled, a slightly crooked grin that made your heart flutter involuntarily in your chest. “Yeah? Is it as pretty as you are?”
You flushed and looked away, playing with your fingers. This cowboy… no, cow man was certainly going to be interesting to work with, if you got the job, of course. “I don’t know, maybe you could tell me if it is. It’s Briallen. Briallen Marsh,” you glanced up to see him watching you, his hand never leaving your shoulder.
“Well, it certainly is pretty. A pretty name for an even prettier woman,” he mused, handing you your phone before going to lead you out the back of the building. His hand was warm where it rested, dangerously close to your neck.
You still had a while before the adrenaline faded and everything that had happened finally settled in your mind.
Chapter 2: Entering the Hive
Notes:
Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter two! I'm really excited to see how this all works out and how the story's going to unfold! I'm a compulsive re-rereader, so, sometimes I might go through to fix up a chapter to make it better or more detailed and, every now and then, might change some things. So make sure to check back often as there might be something new that you haven't read yet!
And, as always, no artist can improve without a healthy dose of criticism! Leave your kudos, a comment, or message me directly on Tumblr @candiedgears to give me some feedback! Without it, I can't improve or take suggestions as to what you all want to see come out of this little story of mine!
Chapter Text
The tube was just a bit crowded when you and the cowboy stepped on, each of you wearing coats to hide the blood staining your clothes. McCree had taken care of the blood on your face, trying his best not to mess up your makeup, and you’ll admit he did a pretty good job of it, only managing to wipe off the light layer of foundation and bits of your lipstick (you weren’t sure how you felt about the intimacy of his fingers brushing against your lips). Thankfully, though, you’d brought some items to touch it up just in case something happened, because, with you, something always did.
“Pardon us,” McCree murmured, offering an old lady a charming smile as he pulled you through the crowd to the other side of the compartment. His warm hand encased yours, gently tugging your uninjured arm, making sure you were close to him when he was satisfied with the spot he had chosen.
“Ooh, my pleasure,” the woman said, giggling softly as she very obviously checked him out. “Say, it’s been a while since I’ve heard a Southern Colonial accent! Where are you from, young man? And what brought you to Walworth?” Her old green eyes twinkled with interest as she turned to face him, hardly glancing over at you.
‘ Good, ’ you thought, shifting your stance a bit to make yourself feel more invisible, nearly tucked away behind McCree’s larger frame. ‘ Just how I like it. Let McCree’s natural beauty hide you. ’
McCree chuckled, brushing a hand through his bangs. “Santa Fe, New Mexico, born ‘n’ raised, ma’am,” he said, stepping closer to you with a smile, a hand dropping to wrap loosely around your waist. “My partner ‘n’ I are just here on some business.”
“Really, is that so? And where are you from, dear?” she asked, seeming to eye you a bit.
‘ Of course she had to ask me the one of the only questions I can’t answer! ’ You shifted a bit awkwardly under her gaze, the adrenaline beginning to fade and leaving you feeling jittery and slightly nauseous. “I, um, Ireland,” ‘ I think ,’ you murmured softly, avoiding eye contact with the woman; her eyes reminded you too much of the young woman’s from earlier.
The lady sniffed a bit, waiting for more information, but didn’t press when you said nothing else. Instead, she went back to talking jovially with McCree, their conversation fading in your ears as your heartbeat outbid it for your attention and your vision began to fade to black.
Two people. You’d killed two people without hesitating. What if they had families, people, pets waiting for them at home? What if they had kids? They had been people too, living, breathing human beings with emotions and thoughts all their own, too complex for you to have ever understood, and you had obliterated them, struck them down without mercy, erased them off the face of the earth. That man had just been doing his job, and the woman? Perhaps they had been lovers, maybe she was just trying to defend her boss. Whatever it was, whoever they were, you had killed them. You .
Your chest squeezed as you started to hyperventilate, your stomach doing flips, making you feel as if you were going to be sick right then and there. Everything was muted, the chatter of the tube was gone, replaced by a dull, buzzing hum, the world in front of your eyes dark enough that you could hardly make out your shaking hands as you held one out in front of you.
McCree’s voice was nothing but a louder buzz, but you recognised it, recognised the lilting southern cadence and felt the way his hand rubbed your side, catching your attention. You looked up to see his worried face, eyes searching and confused as you struggled to breathe, your entire body shaking.
“ Are you alright, sweetpea? ” You read the words on his lips, beginning to sway on your feet. A whimper broke through your lips in response and your knees buckled underneath you, bringing you quickly down to the ground, the world suddenly snapping back into focus.
“Whoa, hey now,” he said, quickly moving to catch you before you hit the floor. His arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you into his chest.
Suddenly, all eyes were on you and you panicked again, nausea rising in your chest. People began to whisper, watching you carefully. Judging you. Talking. They knew.
You were a murderer.
You clung to him as he pulled you up to stand, still gasping for air, and hid your face in his chest, not wanting to look at anyone. What were they saying? What did they think of you now? You weren’t worth it, you weren’t. They knew who you were, knew your face, knew what happened. They knew you had killed someone. What else would explain your odd behaviour? Now they were going to call the cops and you were going to have to spend the rest of your life in prison. But what about McCree? You were clinging to him like a child, would he have compassion and stay with you, or abandon you? Would he get caught as well?
“Oh dear, is she alright?” You could hear the voice of the old woman inquiring about your health, but the words didn’t quite sink in. You’d killed them. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer! You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to block out the thoughts screaming at you from inside your head.
McCree hesitated before nodding decisively. “Yeah, she’ll be fine. Is there any space she could sit?”
“Right here! Mack, get your lazy arse up, the lady’s havin’ a cow!” came the voice of a young man from behind you.
You felt McCree nod, and were grateful for his steadying hand on your lower back as he guided you over to the seat. “First time?” he asked next to your ear, crouching down in front of you when you sat. His hands enveloped yours, thumbs rubbing at the tops of your smaller hands.
You nodded, trying to regain your breath and block out the murmuring of everyone else. Was this how he’d felt the first time? “They know,” your voice squeezed without you meaning it to, weak and soft, like a scared child, breath becoming increasingly hard to hold onto.
“No, no, no, deep breath, darlin’,” he murmured, shaking his head and squeezing your hands, his brows furrowing with concern. “They don’t know a thing, sweetheart, just listen t’me, ok? Everythin’s gonna be ok, you did what you needed to. They weren’t good people, Miss Marsh,” he paused, pursing his lips together. He moved both of your hands into one of his, wrapped an arm gently around your shoulders, and sat down next to you, pulling you against his side.
His warmth and scent were comforting, lulling you into a sense of security. You jumped at the feel of his fingers brushing against your cheek, and turned to see that they were wet where they had touched your skin; you were crying.
“Think of it this way,” he leaned over, letting a bit of his weight act as a security blanket, calming you a bit more, “you saved more people than you killed today. Roy Adams was far from a good man. You did the world a favour, Miss Marsh.”
“I did?” you breathed, squeezing his metal fingers.
He chuckled, the vibrations rolling from his chest to yours. “That you did, darlin’.”
His words brought you comfort and you nodded, sniffing lightly. You could still feel eyes on you, however, and it made you uncomfortable. “Is this how you greet all your new employees?” you joked, trying to distract him from your moral plight.
He laughed, shifting and making you wince as pain rippled through your right arm. “Sorry,” he murmured, shaking his head. “And no, it ain’t, but it sure as hell makes you look a much better candidate for the position.”
You sat in comfortable quiet the rest of the trip to London, not wanting to discuss things in more detail in case someone was listening in. By the time the tube had come to a stop, you had regained your breathing and could stand on your own. You were still upset about having killed two people, but the knowledge that you had saved more gave you a sense of solace. You clung to that.
McCree led you through the streets, keeping you pressed close to his side so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd, until he came to a small building down in the back of an empty alleyway. He knocked twice on the rusty door and it swung inward, revealing a surprisingly clean interior.
“Ladies first,” he said with a smile, gesturing into the hallway, following you in. “Evenin’, Doc!” He called jovially, beginning to take his jacket off after closing the door behind him. “I brought home a stray. Can we keep her?”
You glared back at him, waiting for him to walk ahead of you so you could follow quietly behind him. ‘ A stray? Really? How demeaning… ’ You scoffed softly, turning your gaze away to observe the interior of this little hidden lair.
It was surprisingly clean for a building tucked away far into a dirty alleyway; white tiled floors and bare grey walls, it resembled an office building more than anything. The hall you walked down led to what appeared to be a small set of offices. A few tables sat in the middle of the open space supporting an array of computers and monitors, at which sat a small handful of people you didn't recognise past their Overwatch uniforms. They were busy typing away, each seeming to be writing up a report from what you could see on their monitors. On a few of the screens not taken up by white backgrounds with pages of words, you could see video footage of the inside of Lucky's, some a replay of your escapade, others showcasing the present; it was filled with police officers.
You watched as one of the bobbies picked up the semiautomatic you'd used to take down Adams and his henchwoman, then looked down at your bare, uncovered hands. They had your fingerprint, and, with the knife the woman had sliced your shoulder open with, your blood type and DNA. Just to top it all off, if Overwatch had access to the surveillance, so too did the police, which meant they could link both your fingerprint and your DNA to your face.
“Well now,” you breathed, a certain cold fear settling in your stomach. “Guess I'm a wanted woman now. Today has been one giant walk in the park.”
“Now, now, don't worry, Miss Marsh,” a sweet German voice said as a familiar blonde woman came sweeping into the room, casting worried blue eyes over the arm you were unconsciously cradling. “We have contingency plans in place.”
Your eyes widened and your voice caught in your throat. Before you stood the Angela Ziegler, the esteemed doctor who had saved countless lives on and off the field, basically revolutionised modern medicine, and saved your life all those years ago. She looked even better in person, standing almost half a foot taller than you in her signature lab coat and messy ponytail, practically a Swiss goddess with a stethoscope.
You were literally face to face with your hero.
“Jesse, is that your blood?” she asked, turning shining cerulean pools onto him as he set his jacket down on one of the few empty chairs.
Jesse shook his head. “I ain't the one you need to be fussin’ over, Doc. Miss Marsh caught a bullet ‘n had an encounter with the business edge of a blade on the same arm. I wrapped her up best I could, but I ain't no doctor. Thought I'd leave it to the professional.” He tipped his head with a friendly smile, reaching for the cowboy hat he'd left on the table and placing it on his head.
She pursed her lips, giving him a slight nod before coming over to help you out of your jacket. The makeshift bandages of your wounds were soaked through with blood and you hissed as she began to pull them back to assess the damage. To your surprise, they had already begun to heal.
“Wha-”
“Jesse must have dipped his shirt in the fluid from my caduceus,” Dr. Ziegler said quickly, shaking her head. “Come with me, Miss Marsh. Let's get the bullet out of your arm and the wounds seen up. How are you with pain?”
“Um… I mean, I made it through the tube and London crowds without crying out, so, pretty good, I guess?” you said, furrowing your brow as you looked up at the doctor.
She smiled and nodded. “Then we can hold the interview while I get you patched up. Winston is very eager to speak with you. You've made quite the impression on all of us.”
Your brain whirling, you followed her quietly to one of the back offices, sitting down on the table when she pointed you to. They were still going to hold the interview? The Winston, super smart gorilla scientist who’d created a fucking chronal accelerator by himself, wanted to speak with you, an average, wandering fangirl? And what did Dr. Ziegler mean, you'd made an impression on them? Had they been watching you? And who was “them”?
You looked down at your feet as you tried to get a handle on your thoughts, listening to Dr. Ziegler tap away at her keyboard, trying to think of something to say. You had so many questions and the person who had saved your life was literally standing before you, and yet, the only words you could formulate were;
“Dr. Ziegler?”
She glanced back at you, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “Just Angela, please.”
You blushed a bit, clearing your throat. “R-Right. A-A-Angela, um, thank you for, you know, saving my life and all that. I, uh, I know I must not have been a good person, but, um, you still went out of your way to, you know, help me and I-I really appreciate it.”
Dr. Zie- Angela stiffened a bit, glancing back over at you with a nervous smile. “Well, I was glad to do so. I couldn't leave you to die. But, what makes you think you were a bad person, Miss Marsh?”
You gave her a one-shoulder shrug, trying to keep your wounded arm still. “Well, no one came to claim me. I sat in that hospital for months and no one came in to do so much as to simply give my name. So, I have to assume I was a bad person, right?”
Her smile softened into something sadder, and she finished up at the computer before coming over. She laid a warm hand on your shoulder as the holoprojector came to life, displaying the monitor on the screen opposite you. Angela was calling Winston.
“You were not a bad person, Miss Marsh, just… Misguided.”
Your eyes widened and you looked up at her, nearly gaping. “Did… Did you know me?”
She hesitated again, refusing to meet your gaze. “I'd… Heard of you, yes. But let's not dwell on the past right now. Ah, Winston! Perfect timing!” she said, looking up as the gorilla's face appeared on the screen.
Winston grinned widely, his large teeth gleaming in the light shining on his face. “Ah, there she is! The lady of the hour!” he said, eyes on you. “How are you holding up, Miss Marsh?”
“Well, I think I'm ok. I mean I’ve got the Angela Ziegler taking care of me, I killed two people, which I'm still struggling to fully come to terms with, overpowered a woman nearly twice my size muscle-wise, and now I'm a wanted woman, so…” You shrugged, instantly regretting the action as it sent pain ripping through your right side.
Winston laughed when you hissed in pain, his amber eyes bright with mirth. “Still going strong after everything? You're made of tougher material than your file insinuated! Definitely Overwatch material, if I do say so myself.”
You flinched slightly when Angela applied some disinfectant to your gunshot wound and quickly began working to get the bullet out, but kept as straight a face as you could. ‘ Don't blow this for yourself, Bri. This is still an interview. ’ You managed a smile, keeping your gaze away from what Angela was doing. “You flatter me, sir, but I'm not that tough.”
He laughed again and shook his head. “Nonsense! Don't doubt yourself. Anyway, don't worry about the “wanted” stuff, we have contingency plans in place, which give you a variety of options, but we'll get to those later. Before we get on to the interview, allow me to formally apologise for everything that happened this afternoon, on behalf of the whole of Overwatch. We in no way intended on putting you in danger or in Arachnid’s line of fire, it just so happened that the information regarding your interview was somehow leaked to some of Arachnid’s higher-ups and they decided to take action.
“Originally, you were not to know that you were being interviewed for a position in Overwatch, we had one of our engineering interns ready to hold it for you, but once we caught word that Arachnid knew… We had to make some hasty decisions.” He paused and scratched at his head, looking a bit deadly serious before the expression melted into another jovial smile. “But, perhaps, this was a blessing in disguise.”
You flinched as Angela pulled away, the bullet gripped between the tips of a pair of forceps. Strangely enough, the bullet was entirely flattened and bent in an arch, almost as if it had hit the bone straight on and begun to mold around it from the impact alone. But, that couldn’t be possible, right? If the bullet had hit the bone of your upper arm, it would have shattered it. At least, as far as you knew.
“A blessing in disguise?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you looked up to Angela, but she gave no indication of whether this was normal or not, just turned around to dispose of the bullet into a nearby tray before picking up her needle and thread to sew up the wound.
“Well, yes. While the questions I had formulated would have given us an accurate profile of your character, this let us see you acting naturally. Not only that, but it allowed us a very in-depth look at your moral values, mental state, and your defensive skills. Miss Marsh, I must say, you would fit right in amongst our agents here,” Winston said, pushing his glasses up.
You sat quietly for a few seconds, watching Angela finish up with the gunshot wound and move onto the gash in your shoulder. You could hardly feel the needle as it pushed through your skin, more a testament to Angela’s skills as a doctor than your pain tolerance. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you asked, turning your gaze back up to the projected image of the gorilla. “Those contingency plans, what did they entail?”
Winston’s smile faded as he watched your gaze, faltering. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Straight to the point, I see. A valuable characteristic in an assistant. Well, Miss Marsh, after this whole event, you really only have two choices. Not only do you know of the silent recall of Overwatch, but you’ve also become a target to Arachnid, so we really can’t let you go on as you are. We have a separate identity set up and ready for you and a few professional stylists at your location if you so choose, but, even with that, we can’t guarantee that you’ll be completely safe. It is with this in mind, that I greatly urge you to accept this position. It would benefit both of us, you would be safe within the headquarters compound, and we would receive one hell of an assistant.”
Angela finished your shoulder with a flourish, wiping down the area and giving your uninjured shoulder a pat. “You should be fine now, but I would recommend keeping a biotic emitter running in your room for the next week or so to help speed up the healing and reduce scarring. I will make sure to give you a few before you leave today.”
“Thank you, Dr. Ziegler,” you murmured, flexing the muscles of your arm a bit and flinching. ‘ Bad idea, Bri. Why did you think that was going to work out well for you? ... I’m not to keen on the idea of starting fresh, and I’d rather not have to start going by a whole new name…’ “Well, then, when do I start?”
Chapter 3: Swarming
Notes:
Welcome back everyone to the SUPER AMAZING CHAPTER THREE END CARD TOURNAMENT! Nah, I'm just pulling your leg! But, it is the super amazing chapter three and that's cool too! It's really awesome that you guys have stuck with me this far and I hope you'll continue to do the same so we can all see this story to the end together! It'll be like a group adventure!
I'll see you all at the end! Have fun!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“ No way!! ” Gibson leaned in close to his camera as you flopped back onto your bed, letting your wet hair fall in strands around your shoulders. “ There is no way in hell that OVERWATCH asked you to be an assistant for them! ”
You rolled your eyes, turning your head to look at your laptop monitor. Gibson’s face took up the entire screen, as he was close enough to his camera that you could practically see up his nostrils. “Gib, stop inhaling your webcam and listen to me. You can’t tell the triplets, okay? I know Caelen and how “supportive” she can be, the moment she finds out, she’s going to be posting this everywhere and then the second fall of Overwatch will be all because of me, and I can’t have that on my conscience.”
Gibson sat back, adjusting his glasses. In a lot of ways, he resembled the friendly gorilla you’d met only a few hours earlier; same rounded oblong face, same curious amber eyes (though Gibson’s eyes were more of a hazel-green combination), same ear-to-ear grin, same joviality, just… they were way too similar for it to not be an overused fanfiction cliche. Though, with all these similarities, the chubby 5’1” Brit felt the more real out of the two, and real was what you needed right now. Gibson had been your tether ever since the day he’d invited you to join himself and the triplets for pizza and B-movies during your first year in England. Always quick with advice and willing to offer a helping hand, he’d been your best friend since you’d met him, and talking with him always cleared your mind.
“ I still can’t believe it. You met the Jesse McCree? What was it like? What did he say? What did he smell like?? ” His eyes were still glittering excitedly, his body nearly dancing in his chair. “ And what about Dr. Ziegler? What was she like? Did it hurt at all? How does that biotic emitter work? ”
Sighing, you covered your eyes with an arm, turning away from the screen. “Gib, I’m not answering any of your questions until you give me your word that you won’t tell the triplets.”
“ Alright, alright, you have my word! Now, tell me everything about your encounter with the beautiful Swiss angel!! ”
“God, Gib, you are such a fanboy. There isn’t much to say about it, I mean, it felt pretty normal, like she’d done it hundreds of times. Of course, I was an awkward mess, I could hardly get out the words “thank you” without stumbling over my own tongue.” You closed your eyes and dropped your arm, thinking back over the past couple hours. After Angela had finished stitching you up and you’d accepted the job offer, Winston had said his goodbyes, the doctor had given you a couple biotic emitters (thick little disk things that glowed with a soft golden light once you turned it on), and you’d been shuffled home. The ride was silent, the man, who had been one of the people working on reports, glancing over at you a few times and opening his mouth, but failing to say anything. That had been fine with you, you still had so much to process.
Euripides had been happy to see you home, even if you were slightly bloody and tired, and in serious need of a shower. He’d rubbed up against your legs and purred loudly as he followed you around the house, begging for pets whenever he could.
The shower you’d taken to clean the blood and everything off of your body gave you some time to think about everything that had happened and to analyse exactly how you felt about it. You were… surprisingly excited; it wasn’t everyday that a normal city girl got to take down a bad guy, get so close to a hot superhero, or meet their idol all within the span of a couple hours. Not only that, but Winston had asked you to join, specifically asked . Overwatch wanted you as an assistant, and you were over the moon about it. So over the moon that you’d needed to get it off your chest, and Gibson, being the most reliable out of your friends, was the first and only person that came to mind.
“ Hellooo! Earth to Bee!! Did you space out on me or has your piece-of-shite laptop finally died? I keep telling you that you need to upgrade! ” Gibson snapped you out of your quiet dive into your thoughts a while later, chuckling when you jerked up.
“Shut up, asshat,” you scowled, sitting up and glaring at your webcam. “Sure, she may be a bit slow and, yeah, maybe her graphics aren’t that great, but Cherry still works just fine for me. I don’t need to upgrade to those stupid semi-holographic laptops they have now.” Your nose wrinkled at both the idea and the price. It cost a lot to be completely tech-chic. Glancing at the time, you realised you and Gibson had talked for hours and you needed to eat something more substantial than cake. Not to mention your show was scheduled to come on in the next half an hour.
“Look, Gib, I gotta go. Thanks for listening to me and promising not to tell anyone. Especially since this might be the last time I get to speak openly with you,” you sighed, offering him a sad smile. “I’ll talk to you soon if I don’t have to disappear. See ya later, Gibs.”
You closed the laptop lid before letting him say goodbye, something about the whole situation particularly sorrowful for you. This job, working for Overwatch, could possibly cost you everything you’d come to love in the five known years of your life. Would it be worth it? Could you go through with this? You looked down to Piddie who had taken a nap by your feet, and, suddenly, you knew.
Yes, you would be able to do this. Because Overwatch was created for the sole purpose of making the world a better place. You’d be helping them save lives, so many lives that were worth so much more than your own. If doing that meant losing your friends, so be it. Yeah, it may hurt, but, in the end, people out there were hurting a lot more than you.
It took a week for Winston to give you another call, this time to let you know your application had gone through and that he’d be sending some people with moving trucks to help you get all your stuff moved over to the compound. In the meantime, you’d already paid your landlord in advance and begun packing up all of your belongings. All there was to do now was to finish off the bit of food left in your pantry and move all of the boxes and furniture out of the apartment. Then, the next step of your life could really begin.
You stood in the living room, holding Piddie in your arms as you surveyed the landscape around you; where once sat your old movie collection now sat a pile of cardboard boxes, each labeled according to their contents. Your wall decorations were gone, as was your favourite hanging basket chair, each having been tucked away in a box of their own. The place seemed desolate and barren, making your heart ache. You’d only been in this apartment for three years, but it was still your home. You could tell the story of every stain on the floor, every nick in the wall. Every spot in this apartment held memories for you, and now you were leaving it all behind.
‘ It’s for the greater good, though, Bri, remember that, ’ you thought, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, trying to block out the pain. Almost as soon as you opened your eyes again, there was a knock at the door - the all too familiar shave and a haircut - and you knew the company you’d been expecting had arrived.
“Try to stay out of the way, Piddie,” you said, setting the cat down and going to quickly answer the door. You couldn’t help but smile when a pair of familiar, jovial hazel eyes met yours.
“Well, howdy there, missy,” he chuckled, tipping back his hat to see you better. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You come here often?”
His dorky smile and wink made you giggle and you pulled away from the door, letting him and his companion in. “I should hope so, I live here after all,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Come in, I, uh, I don’t have much to eat if you want something, but, I can make some tea, if you’d like.”
“McCree, move your ass and let me in! I vant to see ze new recruit! Ah! Zere she is!” Strong arms wrapped around your small frame and pulled you off the ground, cracking your back. The scent of chocolate and metal invaded your nostrils as the woman pulled you into her chest and gave you a light squeeze before setting you down again. “It hard to believe such tiny little zing is kausing such kommotion back at headquarters. Tell me, small child, how often do you visit gym?”
You stumbled as the woman placed you on your feet, a little disorientated and taking a second to get your bearings back. The Russian woman who stood in your doorway was nearly three times your size in muscle and at least a foot taller than you, an imposing figure which made you feel quite inferior just being in her presence. If it weren’t for the large grin on her face or the friendly twinkle in her eyes, you would probably be peeing your pants in fear.
“I, uh, what?” you managed, taking an unconscious step back. “N-Not very often. I n-never really had a need to, I, um, I’m not a very active person…”
The woman raised an eyebrow and her smile grew a bit as she cocked her head. “No need to? Nonsense! Zere is alvays reason to visit gym. Exercise, boredom, vorking out your anger or frustration! Alvays reason! How much kan you lift?”
“Um, I-I don’t know, maybe… Maybe, I don’t know, fifty pounds?” You rubbed your arm, looking away. ‘ She must be really into personal fitness… I never really saw the appeal of a gym; all those people staring at me, judging me… No thanks. ’
“Fifty pounds is good start. Ve kan get you up to one hundred in no time if ve start tonight. I kannot vait to see vat you kan do, small child,” she said in response, clapping a hand on your shoulder.
“Alright, I think ya spooked her enough, Zarya,” McCree chuckled, scratching his chin and placing a hand on the woman’s arm. “Miss Marsh ain’t gonna need no fancy weight training or the like. She’s gonna be working at a desk with the monkey. Come on, let’s get to working so we can get her settled in asap.” He offered you a smile as Zarya pulled away with a grunt, going to pick up one of the boxes.
“Thank you,” you whispered, smiling a bit in relief as you rubbed your arm again.
“It ain’t no trouble. I know how intimidating she can be sometimes. She means well, even if she comes on a bit strong,” he said, chuckling a bit. “By the way, you look pretty with your hair down like that. You should wear it down more often.”
You blushed and immediately shoved a strand behind your ear, looking away. “Would y-either of you like some tea or something to drink?”
Zarya’s head poked out from behind the box she was carrying towards the door, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Do you have vodka?”
“Ah, no, sorry. I’m not a big drinker,” you said, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.
Her face fell a bit and she sighed, “Vater is fine,” before walking out the door to take the box to the van.
McCree laughed and shook his head. “Just some water for me too, darlin’. Thank you.”
You nodded and scurried off to the kitchen where you had plastic cups to use instead of glass as it'd all been packed away. By the time you came back with the two cups of water, both agents were gone, as were some of your boxes. They worked quickly.
Sighing, you set the cups down on the counter where they could see them, and made your way over to the sliding balcony door. The glass was cold where it pressed against your skin, your body heat fogging it up a bit. The view from up here had always been gorgeous, a perfect view of Nursery Row Park, whose leaves glowed a pretty amber this time of year.
‘ I'm going to miss this view… ’ you thought, placing the pads of your fingers on the cool glass. You couldn't open the door - one of the rollers at the bottom had gotten wedged your first year here and you just never had it fixed -, and even if you could, you wouldn't. It had gotten chillier since you went out for that interview, and right now, you were wearing nothing but a sunflower-print t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
Looking down, you caught sight of McCree lifting a box into the van, and you bit your lip, your chest aching a bit. ‘ I feel so useless… I want to help, but I feel like I would just get in the way… ’
“Ah, who is zis little fellow?” Came Zarya's gasp from the door as she stepped back into the apartment. She strode up quickly to the box Euripides had settled on, beaming when he didn't scurry away, and bent down to pet him. “And where is your tail, malen'kiy voin?”
You chuckled, a little surprised to see the gentleness with which the large Russian stroked your cat. “His name is Euripides, and he's my roomate. I've had him ever since he was a kitten.”
“His fur very soft and beautiful. Perfect kompanion for one who is not very active.” Her smile grew larger as he started purring loudly, rubbing his face against her fingers. “Does he hunt?”
You shook your head, turning to press your back against the glass. “No. He's a lazy asshole. It's hard to get him to move sometimes when I vacuum.”
Zarya laughed, scratching Piddie's chin. “He vill enjoy life in kompound, zen. Plenty of places to take nice, varm naps.” Her green gaze suddenly turned to you as she cocked her head. You couldn't identify the look in them, just a bit too far out of your social knowledge, but you thought you could detect a bit of curious laughter in their depths. “You talk so easily about him, much easier zan you talk about yourself. Konfidence looks good on you.”
You blushed, jumping away from the door as if it had shocked you. “I-I, um-”
“Nearly halfway there,” McCree mused, striding into the living room and lighting a cigar. “This’ll be over faster than I thought.”
You flinched at the sight of the cigar’s smoke, panic flaring in your chest. ‘ Ms. Sheppard has a strict no smoking policy… ’ “Um, M-McCree, if you could, I mean, I-I don't mean to be rude, but, um, but… But you-you can't, um-”
“McCree.” Zarya stood up and made her way over to him within a second, startling both you and the cowboy. She grasped the lit cigar between her thumb and forefinger, extinguishing the flame, and tugged it out from between his lips. “Did you ask if Marsh vas komfortable wiz zis?”
His eyes widened and he looked over at you. “U-Uh, no, I-”
“Ve are guest in her home. Don’t be rude,” the Russian said, tossing the cigar into the trash.
“I-It’s not that I have a problem with it,” you murmured, rubbing your arm as you tilted your head to hide behind your bangs. “Ms… Ms. Sheppard just has a strict no smoking policy… She doesn’t want her walls or, or her ceilings ruined.”
McCree smiled a bit and nodded, his brows furrowed. “Of course. My apologies. I didn’t know.”
The rest of the task went smoothly and soon Zarya was helping McCree move the couch, the last piece of furniture, out toward one of the trucks, leaving you standing alone in the living room. You studied the quiet emptiness around you, suddenly feeling tearful and nostalgic.
‘ That was where I tried my first shot of tequila. Gibson said I looked about ready to throw up the moment it touched my tongue. ’ The memory brought a sad smile to your lips and a whisper of a chuckle escaped your throat. ‘ And that… that was where the triplets and I had our first sleepover. Until that night, I would’ve never guessed that Sylvia was ace… That’s where I tripped over Piddie and spilt tea on the carpet. I never could get that stain out, no matter how hard I tried… And there… ’ Your gaze drifted around the barren landscape, brimming with tears as you recollected the three years of memories this place held for you. You were leaving everything behind, had to; you sure as hell didn’t want to be hunted down by Arachnid. Even McCree had warned you about them, and you trusted him with everything you could right now. If you couldn’t trust Overwatch, who could you trust? Well, the one thing you knew for sure was that you were going to miss this place.
“Everythin’ alright in here, darlin’?” McCree asked, coming up behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “We’re ready to head out whenever you are.”
You sniffed, quickly wiping away your tears and nodding. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just… saying goodbye. It, uh, it isn’t easy leaving everything behind, you know?”
He smiled sadly, squeezing your shoulder where he held it. “Yeah, I know. Do you need a couple minutes?”
“No.” You shook your head, pulling out of his grip as you bent down to scoop Euripides up into your arms. “No, I’m fine. You said you guys were ready to go?”
McCree nodded.
“Then, let’s go. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”
Zarya insisted you ride with her, a strange request seeing as she didn’t quite know you very well yet, but you humoured her, partly because she scared you a bit. She seemed thrilled when you agreed and looked almost a moment away from throwing you into the truck before you’d have a chance to scramble in yourself. Luckily, though, she didn’t, and you were spared the bruises that would have come from such an occasion.
The ride was silent for a while - maybe ten minutes or so - before she turned on the radio. She fiddled with it for a couple seconds until she settled on a station dedicated to old classic rock from before you were born.
‘ “Here Comes the Sun”? ’ you thought, smiling a bit as you watched the city pass by your window. ‘ How fitting .’ Relaxing, you quietly hummed along, petting Piddie’s head. It wasn’t until near the end of the song when you passed under a bridge that you caught Zarya’s reflection in the window; she was glancing over at you, a huge grin on her face. Blushing, you immediately shut up and avoided meeting her gaze.
She chuckled. “So, you are fan of Beatles?”
You ran your fingers through your bangs, embarrassed to be caught. “Uh, yeah. Love the Beatles. Cla-Classic rock as a whole, really. The, um, Americans had some-some really good bands.”
She grunted in response, still grinning, and went quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again. “You have lovely voice, sing often?”
Your blush deepened and you hesitated; you really kept your singing to yourself, and only really sang in front of others when you were drunk enough not to care. You didn’t like sharing it with others, too afraid of what they might say, and too ashamed of it, especially after your ex had told you to “Stop even trying. You sound like a dying cat.”.
“I, um,” you bit your lip and shook your head. “N-No, not really…”
“Vell, zen I am honoured to hear it,” she responded, glancing over at you before looking back out at the road.
You shook your head, fiddling with your fingers. “Don’t be… there really isn’t-”
“Ooh! Zis great song!” she exclaimed, turning the radio up and smiling broadly. “ You show us everyzing you’ve got/ You keep on dancing and ze room gets hot/ You drive us vild, ve’ll drive you crazy! ”
You held back a chuckle, listening as she sang heartily along, her voice cheery and powerful. It was clear she was no professional singer, but she still sounded good, and it made you think; why shouldn’t you sing in front of others? Zarya had already said she thought you had a pretty voice, why not sing again? There was no harm in it.
Drawing in a bit of courage, you waited quietly until the next verse and joined in, softly at first, but letting your voice grow as you sank into the music. “ You keep on saying you’ll be mine for a while/ You’re lookin’ fancy, and I like your style/ You drive us wild, we’ll drive you crazy! ”
Zarya beamed, laughing. “Da! Zat’s it, myshka!”
You two finished the song together, and by the end, you were smiling and laughing. Your throat was dry, but it was well worth it to break out of your shell for a little while.
The larger Russian woman reached over and clapped you on the back, nearly knocking you over. “I like you, myshka. You are good voman.”
Notes:
Whatcha think? Did you enjoy it? I hope so, I've been working really hard on this. Don't be afraid to leave a comment or message me on Tumblr @candiedgears if you think there's something I could change, a plot twist I could slip in there, or if you have suggestions on how to better portray a character! I promise, I don't bite and I'm pretty much as pacifistic as our dear Mercy is. I'd love to hear what you all think of this as it'll help me better develop this story into something everyone can enjoy!
I can't wait to see y'all in the next installment! Toodle-loo!
Chapter 4: Droning On
Notes:
I'm sure you've noticed by now that all of my chapter titles are some kind of bee pun and I have only one thing to say about that; I will not apologise. I will take responsibility for my actions, but I will not apologise.
I hope you've all enjoyed the story thus far, and I do look forward to your responses! Believe it or not, this story will be heavily driven by all of you! So your input is very valuable to me. Anything and everything you guys throw at me will be taken in and processed for evaluation. Haha, no, they aren't going to be evaluated, but I will take them to heart. An artist can only improve so much without outside help, and that's exactly what you guys are to me, so, please, leave a comment, your kudos, email me, or message me directly on Instagram @its_bees . I promise, your voice will be heard.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“ Morrigan… Morrigan… Morrigan, my child, wake up. There is much to do… We must get started soon. ”
“Miss Marsh? Miss Marsh, it's time to wake up,” the honeyed voice startled you awake and you shot up, panting.
Your pulse pounded in your chest and cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck. ‘ Where am I? What's going on? ’ Looking up, you met a pair of worried cerulean eyes, felt fingertips brush against your arms. A familiar camphor-and-tea scent washed over you, and you relaxed.
“Is everything alright, dear?” Angela asked, sitting down on the couch next to you. She raised her forearm, pressing the inside of her wrist against your forehead with a frown. “You were muttering and shaking in your sleep, and you looked rather pale.”
You blinked a couple times, trying to remember your dream, or whatever had caused you to wake up in such a distressed state. However, you just couldn't recall anything; your mind was completely blank. “Y-Yeah, I'm fine,” you said, letting Angela do her thing as you looked around, observing your surroundings.
You obviously weren't in the moving truck anymore -you must have fallen asleep without realising it-, and instead were seated on a rather plush, royal blue couch inside what appeared to be an office. Dark oak furniture and flooring gave the room a cozy, yet professional feel, and the warm light from the track lighting tracing the edge of the ceiling helped make it feel more welcoming. The walls, white except for the bottom half, which had been painted a darker royal blue to match the upholstery, sported towering bookshelves, filing cabinets, and picture frames, from which, smiling faces looked down on you. You didn't recognise some of them, but there were three which had familiar faces you could connect names to; one was a well-known image of the original Overwatch Strike team - Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Torbjorn Lindholm, and Gabriel Reyes -, the second was of the post-Omnic Crisis members - Dr. Angela Ziegler, Winston, Lena Oxton, Mei-Ling Zhou, Gérard Lacroix, and the strike team members -, and the third was a rather personal picture of Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes during their SEP days. They seemed happy, and the way Gabriel was looking at Jack…
“Where am I?” you asked, drawing your attention away from the room, “and why do all of these pictures have Mr. Morrison in them?”
“That would be because this is his office,” a gruff voice responded, alerting you to the presence of another figure in the room. The man sat tall behind the desk behind you, a direction you had yet to look. A mask covered his lower face and a visor sat over his eyes, yet, you knew immediately who it was.
“Soldier: 76,” you whispered, eyes wide with awestruck wonder as you turned your body towards him, unable to tear your gaze away from the white haired man who appraised you. “I've read about you in the papers, but I never thought I'd actually meet you in person. You're with Overwatch?”
Angela snorted, quickly covering her mouth as you both looked over at her. “S-Sorry. Miss Marsh, you seem to be fine, so I'll take my leave. I will need you to drop by my office later so I can perform a routine medical exam for your file.” She stood and turned to leave.
“Thank you, Angela,” the old soldier called after her, nodding as she left, leaving you alone with him. “Am I with Overwatch?” he echoed, chuckling as he folded his hands on the desk. “I suppose you could say that. Truthfully, I never really left, not at my heart. But, that's beside the point. I want to talk about you, Miss Marsh. I've heard quite some tales from Angela and McCree about you. That was very brave of you, standing up to Roy Adams like that.”
You fidgeted, uncomfortable with his gaze on you. “Um, y-yeah, I suppose it was…”
“Why?” he asked, leaning back in his seat.
Your brows furrowed. “S-Sir?”
“Why did you do it? Did you know it was us from the beginning? Why risk your life to get the information to McCree before you'd even known it was him?”
Ah. So this was an interrogation. Great.
‘ Don’t blow this, Briallen… ’ You shook your head. “I-I don't know, sir. No, I did-didn't know it was you from the-the beginning… You see, sir, I’m a-a big, um, a big nerd, so to speak, and when-when they mentioned Overwatch and-and I got that call, well, I figured, er, hoped that it would be you… I also, um, I’m huge fan of Overwatch, so-so once I heard Mr. McCree’s voice, I-I knew it was you…”
The soldier let out a sigh and slouched in his seat a bit, unfolding his hands. While you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the gentle smile in his voice. “Easy, soldier. There’s no need to be so nervous around me. Take some time to think about what you’re going to say and then say it, no need to rush.”
Your eyes widened and you cleared your throat, looking away. You hadn’t realised you’d been stuttering, or how nervous you were; you’re hands were shaking badly and your heart trembled in your chest. ‘ Alright, calm down, Briallen. Just, deep breath… ’ Closing your eyes, you took a second to compose yourself, taking in a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth before looking back up at him.
“As to why I risked my life to get the information to Mr. McCree…” you continued, your gaze drifted as you thought, landing on a picture of Jack Morrison amidst a group of people, all of which looked very similar to him. His family, no doubt. ‘ They must have suffered more than the rest of the world when Mr. Morrison died… He had to have meant a lot to them. ’
“I… There are a lot of people out there who are in desperate need of heroes, Mr. Seventy-Six,” you said, your eyes turning to a framed cut-out of a newspaper article on the beginnings of Overwatch, “and without Overwatch, I don’t think there are many people who would be willing to help them. People out there are suffering, a lot more than I am at any given point in time, and we don’t really give much thought to them, but Overwatch does.” Your gaze turned back to the old soldier before you, hardened with determination. “The reason I risked my life to get that information to Mr. McCree is the same reason why I gave up everything I’ve known to be here today, sir; I want to help people, in any way that I can, even if that way is to sneak a bit of info into a phone call or simply to make coffee for the people who do all the real hero work out there. There are lives at stake that are worth a lot more than my own, people out there who could do great things if only given the chance. Who’s going to help them if we don’t?”
The soldier laughed, a deep hearty rumble that made you blush and look away quickly. Had you said something funny? No, you didn’t remember doing so… Was he laughing at you? You bit your lip, gaze trained on the ground as you grew uneasy. You’d just spilled your heart out to this man, and he was laughing at you?
“I’m sorry, Miss Marsh, forgive me for the outburst,” he said finally, clearing his throat as he gathered himself. “I just wasn’t expecting such a heartfelt response. Something along the lines of “I felt it was the right thing to do” would have been just fine, but you went above and beyond. Please, come sit at the desk.” He sat up and motioned toward one of the plush oak chairs sitting in front of the desk, where you promptly moved to, curious. Why have you move closer?
“Before you can begin your job, there are a few things I must discuss with you. First, because of your unfortunate involvement with Arachnid a few weeks ago, once your files are finished transferring into Athena’s database, they will have to be deleted from the government’s database. We can’t have you tracked back here, one for your own safety, and two for the safety of everyone else who works here.
“Second, you will find that, unlike the other faculty who work and live here, your quarters will be among the lower levels, down with the agents you so fondly call “heroes”. This is due to your need to work closely with the agents to ensure everything goes smoothly, whether it be transference of data for file updates, delivering a message, or, should the need arise, your attending to them while in-service. You have already met agents Ziegler, McCree, and Zaryanova, I would advise you to become personally acquainted with the rest of them.
“Third, because of the possibility that you will be out on the field with an agent, it will be necessary for you to receive some form of combative training. From the security footage, I have noticed you seem to already have a small amount of military-grade training, which is strange, seeing as your government files mention nothing of being part of any military branch, but, nevertheless, you will still be required to go through some training. I will be assigning an agent to teach you what they can. It is up to you to determine how much you learn from their teaching. I suggest you take everything they say to heart. You never know what might be useful in a pinch.
“Lastly, you will be required to wear some form of uniform while on duty, unless you are out on the field. You have a meeting with one of our tailors after this to get your measurements and a temporary uniform for you to wear until your uniforms are done being put together. After you're done with that, one of our available agents will give you a tour around the building. You aren't expected to memorise the layout right away. Tomorrow, during your meeting with Winston to discuss your duties, you will receive your on-base communicator, which will already have the names and numbers of our agents, as well as a map of the facility.”
Your head swam with all the information you'd just had piled onto you all at once. It was quite a bit to take in, but you somehow managed it, giving the soldier a small nod when you were sure you'd stored the information safely away.
He must have been able to see the brief struggle flash across your face because he chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Miss Marsh, all of this will be re-explained to you during your interview with Winston. Do you have any questions for me in the meantime?”
“A few,” you said truthfully, sorting the few questions in your mind into a prioritised order. “How many people am I answering to for this job? I was under the impression that I would be assisting one person, but the way you explained everything just now makes it sound like that’s not the case.”
“Per your job description, Winston and I are your bosses. You are not under any legal obligation to answer to anyone else,” he replied, chuckling again. “If you are in the field with another agent, you’ll follow either mine or Winston’s orders first and foremost, and the agent’s only in the circumstance that it either doesn’t conflict with our orders, or the situation requires you to follow theirs or put yourself in danger. But, as we will not be sending you on any high-profile or life-threatening missions, the latter is very unlikely to happen.”
You nodded, less confusion clouding your mind now, though you still had a couple questions for the older man sitting before you. “How am I to address everyone? Just so I don’t insult anyone my first day on the job.”
You felt there was a smile behind his mask as he answered you. “However you feel best. If they are uncomfortable with it, they’ll let you know and give you an alternative.”
“What about you, sir?”
“Me?” he asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Is there something in particular you’d like me to refer to you as?” Your eyes instinctively scanned his face for emotion, though you knew you’d find nothing besides, perhaps, a crinkle on his forehead. You were eager to hear his response, after all, “Mr. Seventy-Six” sounded a bit weird.
He was strangely quiet for some time before he answered, something strange and unidentifiable in his voice. “Commander is fine, Miss Marsh. I think that’s enough questions for now, you don’t want to be stuck in this stuffy office all day. Eugene? You can come in now.”
You jumped, turning to watch as a tall, slender man stepped into the office, holding the door open behind him. Brown eyes sparkled down at you as he grinned. “Is zis ze new employee, Commander? She has a very lovely stature, and zat figure!”
“Yes, Eugene, this is Ms. Marsh. Treat her as well as you would any of our agents,” Soldier:76 laughed, gesturing towards you.
Understanding that you were meant to follow Eugene out of the room, you nodded and stood. You wanted to stay and ask the Commander more questions, but, with the way he had dismissed you so quickly after the last one, you got the feeling he wanted to be left alone.
Eugene gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as you came to stand beside him. “You wound me, sir! When have I ever mistreated a lady?” Turning to you, he asked, “Are you ready, Mademoiselle Marsh?” His smile widened when you nodded. “Zen, right zis way! What kind of excerzise do you do? Your waist is so slim!”
Your uniform was pretty and formal while still remaining comfortable; a variety of gentle, flowy, or ruffled shirts in varying shades of white, all paired with the famous “Overwatch Blue” in the form of a skirt or blazer, and a pin that bore the Overwatch sigil.
Eugene had been sweet, complimenting you at every turn, making you blush and avoid looking over at him. Thankfully, he didn’t take it any further than passing compliments, and you were released within the hour. He gave you a couple directions; down the hall to your right, take two lefts, but not three, three and you would be completely lost, take the elevator up four floors, then take a right into the double doors to your left. That was where you would find your guide.
The room you entered seemed to be a mess hall, filled with plenty of people, all of which were dressed in uniforms with the same version of the Overwatch Blue you’d had to try on for the past hour. These must be some of the other faculty the Commander had mentioned, you reasoned, glancing around as you bit your lip. You felt awkward. No one had looked over as you walked in, so you didn’t feel any eyes on you, but you couldn’t help but think about how the hell you were going to find your guide in this crowd. You couldn’t go around asking each and every person “Are you my tour guide?”, that would just be… wrong.
Upon looking around, you noticed the people seemed to be whispering excitedly to each other, staring over at a corner of the room where a more condensed crowd seemed to be huddled.
‘ What’s going on over there? ’ you wondered, stretching your neck to try to see around the crowd, and suddenly found your gaze meeting a pair of eyes from across the room. Your heart caught in your throat. ‘ Tracer. ’
The Brit grinned broadly over at you and stood, quickly saying something to the group around her. You could practically feel the sad groan of the crowd as she made her way through it straight over to…
You.
Your eyes widened when she reached out and took your hands into hers, looking excitedly up into your eyes. “You must be the new assistant Winston was talking about! I’ve heard a lot about you! Did you really take out Roy Adams by yourself?!”
You couldn’t help but smile and blush at her enthusiasm, something about her negating your normal awkwardness. “Um, it was purely self defense, but, yeah, I did…”
“That’s absolutely wicked!” she beamed, squeezing your hands. “You’ll have to tell me about it later! For now, we’ve got a tour to do!”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Lena?” a man asked, coming up beside her and laying a dark hand on her shoulder, quirking an eyebrow up at her.
You felt your hands get a bit sweaty and your knees become weak as you looked up and met the coffee-brown gaze of the new arrival. Lucio Corriea dos Santos was standing before you. The young revolutionary leader who aimed to improve the world through his music. You couldn’t count how many times you’d listened to his music at full volume on shitty days, couldn’t even begin to describe how much he’d inspired you when you’d first woken up in the hospital. You’d save up a year’s worth of wages just to get the cheapseats at one of his concerts when he was in London last, and you’d never smiled more than when you were there.
And here he was, in the flesh, meeting your gaze, smiling at you , as if you were equals. You, a simple assistant who meant nothing to anyone.
Lena suddenly dropped your hands as hers flew up to her cheeks. “Blimey, I nearly forgot! Thanks, Lucio!” Holding out a single hand, she grinned down at you. “The name’s Lena Oxton, though, you probably already knew that.”
Snapping your gaze away from the DJ, you quickly shook her hand. “B-B-Briallen Marsh.”
Lucio’s eyes widened and he look at you in surprise, his lips quirked up into a smile. “No way! You’re Briallen Marsh?”
You blushed and nodded a bit, brushing your bangs back. “Um, yeah… you-you-you’ve heard of me?” The thought made your heart soar; your idol knew who you were? You, a nobody?
His smile widened and he nodded. “Of course I have! You sent me that letter a few years back when you were in the hospital. That sucks that you had to go through that, but I’m glad my music could be of some help.”
Your blush deepened and you looked away, smiling in spite of yourself. He actually remembered the letter you sent about a week into your stay at the hospital in Switzerland? The letter had detailed the events you’d been told that caused your amnesia, and how you’d fallen into a deep depression until you’d discovered him and his music, how he’d inspired you to keep moving and made you want to do some form of good in the world, no matter how small.
“I’m… flattered that you-you remembered. It-It meant a lot to me when you-you sent me that re-reply,” you managed, sure your ears had turned red.
Lucio laughed, shaking his head. “Of course I remembered! It’s not everyday you get a letter from an amnesiac saying that you’ve become an inspiration right off the bat! But, look, you’re here now, doing some good in the world like you said you wanted to!” His grin was wide, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. The look on his face and the way he talked about you made your heart swell; he really cared about his fans to a personal extent, it was clear in how proud he seemed to be of you.
“Well, I-I wouldn’t say I’m the one doing the good in the world here, I mean,” you gestured to the two heroes standing in front of you, “ you’re the heroes here, not-not me. I’m just an assistant.”
“Aww, rubbish!” Lena interjected, taking your hands again. “Don’t be so humble, Briallen! We may go out and do all the fighting, but we wouldn’t be able to do it without everyone back here! In their own way, everyone who works with us is a hero as well!”
“Lena’s right,” Lucio said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t put yourself down just because you aren’t on the field. Trust me, I’d rather not have to do that, but it’s what I can do to try to make a difference. You’re working with Overwatch now. You’re putting yourself on the line to work for a technically illegal organisation bent on saving the world. That makes you a hero in my book.”
You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face, feeling bashful under their words and gazes. You supposed you really were doing something worthwhile, working for them, even if it was just as an assistant. “O-Okay, fine, I’ll accept the title, only if you guys will accept “superhero”. I mean, you two practically are superheroes, what with you going out to fight evil and all that.”
“Superhero,” Lena echoed dreamily, casting her gaze out toward what you later would find wasn’t an actual window, but a holoscreen that mimicked the first floor above-ground. “ ‘S got a nice ring to it!”
“Yeah, it sure does. Come on,” Lucio uncrossed his arms and waved you two along, “let’s get on with the tour. I’m sure you’re dying to know where everything is.”
An hour and a half later, your head spun. There were so many rooms and floors of the compound that you worried you’d never be able to remember where anything was. Thankfully, most of the offices you’d need to visit often were on a secured level that only you and the agents could access. Turns out, you’d woken up on that level, having left it with Eugene to get fitted for your uniform. You followed Lena and Lucio down to a deeper series of levels, about three floors below the first secured level.
“Aaaaand this is your room!” Lena said, dragging you over to one of the doors down the hallway. “It’s a bit strange that 76 decided to give you a room in the agent’s quarters, but that means we get to spend more time with each other! Go ahead! Open the door, luv!”
“Um, how do I do that?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you looked at the door in question. It seemed perfectly nondescript, just your basic metal door without a handle. As far as you knew, it could have just been another piece of the wall inlaid in this piece for reasons you wouldn’t be able to understand.
“Use your card, silly! There’s a scanner right there, you see it?” she asked, pointing to a small square in the middle of the supposed door. “Just hold your card up to it and the door will open, simple as that.”
“Card?” you echoed, turning to look at her in confusion. “Uh, sorry to burst your bubble, Ms. Oxton, but I never got a card…”
Lena’s eyes wide and she frowned. “Really? That’s strange, Winston’s normally really good at remembering the little things. Have you seen him today?”
You shook your head. “No, Mr. McCree and Ms. Zaryanova helped me move my furniture out of my apartment this morning, and I met with the Commander just a couple hours ago, and then with Eugene to get fitted. I haven’t seen anyone else besides you two,” you said, gesturing to the two standing beside you. “I have a meeting with him first thing tomorrow morning, though.”
“Well, maybe Winston had other things on his mind,” Lucio offered, giving a small shrug. “He is kinda busy, I mean, Briallen being here is proof of that.”
“Hmm, you’re right. Better give him a call, though, just in case. Maybe he can send me a photo of it,” Lena said, shaking her head as she pulled out her com and quickly dialed the gorilla. A couple seconds of silence ticked by before she let out a sigh and pulled the phone from her face. “No answer. Blimey, he must be really busy today! Well, in a case where you don’t have your card on you, Athena, our ever present and lovely AI, can help you with that. Athena?”
“Hello, Lena, how can I help you?” the soft, disembodied voice came from the ceiling, making you jump.
“It seems Miss Marsh here doesn’t have her card on her. Could you open the door for us?”
“I would love to help you, Lena, but I’m afraid that isn’t possible. Miss Marsh has not been given access to her room yet. Have you spoken with Winston?” Athena replied, her voice somehow sounding as if she felt saddened by this fact.
Lena sighed. “No, I tried giving him a ring, but he didn’t answer his com.”
There was a couple seconds of quiet before Athena responded again. “Strange, it appears I have been temporarily prohibited from viewing Winston’s office. I am sorry, Lena, it appears I cannot help you with this.”
“No worries, luv, that just means Briallen here gets to spend the night with one of us! Ooh, how exciting!” Lena practically vibrated where she stood, grinning broadly.
“I do not mean to offend, Lena, but perhaps Miss Marsh would feel more comfortable in Mr. Santos’ room. After all, there would be no possible chance of any sexual advances in his care.”
Lena turned a bright red, her brows furrowing in embarrassment as Lucio laughed. “Athena, just because I like girls doesn’t mean I’m going to shoot at every bird I see,” she protested, giving you a nervous glance. “I only just met her, after all.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, your cheeks also turning a bit red at even the thought of anything remotely like that happening between you and Lena. Yes, she was cute, but, as she’d said, you two had only just met and you barely knew her. There’d be plenty of time for figuring out things like that later.
“My apologies, Lena, was I too forward? I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Should I adjust my protocol?”
“I think all of us would appreciate that, yes, thank you,” came Lena’s response as she ran her fingers through her bangs.
“I… I think I should stay the night with Mr. Santos-” you began.
“Lucio,” he corrected, shaking his head. “Don’t make me feel like an old man, now, Briallen. We’re the same age!”
You ducked your head sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Er, Lucio, Ms. Oxton-”
“Oh, luv, just call me Lena. There’s no need to be so formal!”
“Uh, right. Well, I think I should stay the night with Lucio, just so we can have some time to put this, er, embarrassment behind us,” you said softly, shifting your weight.
“Aww, lighten up, Lena. It’s not the end of the world!” Lucio teased, giving her a slight nudge when she pouted. “There’s always next time.”
“I suppose there is. Well, seeing as you can’t get into your room, you’re going to need a change of clothes,” she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed you a bit, making you grin a bit nervously.
“That’s alright, Lena, I can give her one of my hoodies to wear for tonight and let Eugene know that she’s going to need one of her uniforms by tomorrow morning.” Lucio placed a warm hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “She’ll be fine.”
You took a deep breath, trying not to flinch under the physical contact. Today had been a long day, what with moving and touring the facility and literally meeting your hero. You had a good feeling about working here, especially if all of your coworkers were going to be as friendly as these two. Perhaps choosing to give up everything you knew to come work here was the right call after all.
“What is this about, Jack?” Winston asked, folding his hands on his desk. “I was all onboard with hiring Miss Marsh, especially after what I’d seen with the Roy incident, but this…” he paused, gesturing to the added files on her record displayed on the hologram in front of him. “Specialised combat training between you two, supervised by Angela, a room on the agent’s level, authorisation to accompany agents out onto the field… What is this, Jack? Who is she?”
The old soldier looked over, blue eyes lit up by a light Winston hadn’t seen in the old man for quite some time. The way he smiled softly, rubbing at his chin as he turned, letting out a soft chuckle… Jack knew something, something big. “It’s… a long story,” he said dismissively, shaking his head. “Suffice to say, I’ve known her since she was a child.”
Winston frowned, adjusting his glasses and dismissing the holo. “Start from the beginning, then. I want to know everything.”
Notes:
Translations
*malen'kiy voin - little warrior
Chapter Text
Lucio’s room was sleek and stylish, mostly made up of bright colours, light brown walls, nice soft, caramel carpeting, and brilliantly painted vinyl records hanging up on the walls. It all seemed to mimic his personality; warm, welcoming, and very friendly. You felt almost immediately at home, a notion which, after you mentioned it, made him chuckle. The hoodie he had lent to you to sleep in was much larger than either of you - he admitted that it wasn’t necessarily his, and belonged to his boyfriend - but it was comfy and soft and kept you decently covered. You slept on one of the colourful bean bag chairs in the living room, despite Lucio’s insistence you take the bed, he’s fine with the bean bag, and woke to find your uniform - a layered satin eggshell blouse with a blue underlayer, a pair of blue nylons underneath a slim black pencil skirt, and a pair of black Oxfords - already laid out for you. You figured Eugene had been given access to Lucio’s room and stopped by after you’d fallen asleep.
“Hey, look who’s awake,” Lucio said, smiling at you as he stepped into the living room, catching you admiring one of the painted records on the wall; one with a grassy meadow scene whose long-stalked flowers seemed to sway in a non-existent breeze. His gaze softened a bit at the sight and he chuckled. “They have a certain magic to them, don’t they?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
You nodded, still rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. You’d yet to wake up enough to properly change into your uniform, or, really, do anything. “They do,” you agreed, slipping your hands back into the hoodie pocket. “Who painted them?”
“That’d be Markus, my boyfriend. He paints in his free time, and made those for me as an anniversary gift. I have to say, he waaaay out-gifted me with those. I got him a set of oil paints I found in an art shoppe in Italy.”
You smiled and chuckled, watching the way Lucio practically melted when talking about Markus. It was incredibly sweet and obvious that they cared immensely for each other. “How long have you two been dating?”
“Uh, about two years, now. Wow, yeah, two years! Man, it feels like it was just yesterday when we went on our first date,” he admitted, leaning against the wall, grinning widely, stupidly, but in a charming way that made you feel a wave of second-hand happiness.
“I’ve heard that it sometimes feels like that in the best kind of relationships. Was he a fan of yours?”
Lucio shrugged, scratching his chin. “Not really, I don’t think. He definitely is now, though. I’d made it a point not to date fans for most of my career, the idea just felt wrong to me, like I’d be taking advantage of whoever it was.” He shook his head, turning his gaze back to you, his smile unfading. “Anyway, you getting hungry? We have our own private mess hall if you want to stay out of sight of the rest of the staff. I saw how uncomfortable and awkward you felt when you walked in yesterday. It was kind of obvious.”
‘ So he noticed… ’ Hugging yourself, you blushed, embarrassed. “Yeah, I-I guess I am. Thank you, um, could-could you wait for me while I change? I still don’t-don’t know the layout of the compound very well.”
“Yeah, of course! I never leave a friend hangin’!” he said cheerfully, making you feel fuzzy. You hadn’t expected to be accepted by your coworkers this quickly, it made you feel really good, maybe a bit more confident in yourself.
You got changed quickly, neatly folding the hoodie and placing it on top of his washer, before you met him back in his living room. He seemed to take a second to take in the sight of you in your uniform - which fit perfectly, by the way; you’d have to properly thank Eugene the next time you saw him - with your hair pulled back in a reverse French Twist.
Lucio nodded approvingly as you stopped and did a hesitant twirl under his scrutiny. With how tense you were from being judged by your idol, your twirl probably looked more like a slow, awkward penguin turn, but he smiled all the same. “Beautiful,” he said, uncrossing his arms. “Eugene has outdone himself again. So, you ready to go? Totally cool if you aren't. The cooks don’t mind making a late breakfast, and I don’t mind eating one.”
You blushed a bit at the compliment and nodded. “Definitely. I desperately need a cup of tea to wake myself up before I meet with Winston. I don’t want his first in-person impression of me to be a sleepy goblin-person who can’t focus on anything to save her life.”
Lucio laughed, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Well, then, let’s get you that caffeine.”
You walked with Lucio down the hallways, making sure to note which direction you took and how many doors you passed. As you approached the large metal doorway that invariably lead to the private mess hall, the muffled sound of voices reached your ears and you suddenly found yourself panicking. What if they didn’t like you? What if you accidentally insulted one of them and it got you fired? What if this was all just some really ridiculously elaborate practical joke? It seemed too good to be true, after all. Maybe this was all a dream and you were about to wake up. You didn’t want to wake up, you wanted all of this to be real, but what if it wasn’t? What if everyone secretly hated you?
As if sensing your panic, Lucio gently urged you to a stop just outside the doors’ scanner, turning you to face him. His hands rested gently on your shoulders, providing a comforting weight and sense of stability amidst your panic. Coffee-brown eyes looked into yours and it was only then, with him being so close, that you noticed the little amber flecks that accented his irises. “Hey, now, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet! I know it’s a bit scary meeting new people, hell, I get nervous sometimes! But, you just gotta be yourself. They’ll love you, I guarantee it.” His smile was bright, supportive, as he squeezed your shoulders. “Go knock their socks off!”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, some of your nerves fading with his encouragement. “If you insist, sir.”
He frowned playfully, giving you a light shove. “Hey, what did I say about formalities like that? We’re the same age, dammit! You’re making me feel like an old man.”
You grinned and shook your head. “Technically, I’m on duty, now. I have to maintain some level of professionalism,” you said, turning to step into the mess hall as Lucio held up his card. The door slid open in front of you, and you immediately found your path blocked with a hulking brute of a man, who towered over you, staring at you through the tinted glass of a gas mask. A good two feet taller than you, he seemed to be made up of muscle, meat, and menace. His large frame blocked any possible view into the mess hall, and his sheer size, matched with the heavy breathing emanating from his mask, made you tremble in fear.
“Whatcha got over there, Roadie?” came a raucous voice from behind the brute, its timbre making you jump. The sound of footsteps, or, more accurately, the step-thunk! step-thunk! step-thunk! of one walking on a peg leg followed the voice as the large man grunted and scratched his stomach.
“I heard voices,” he replied, saying nothing more as he seemed to continue to stare you down.
“Yeah? ‘N whose didja- oh!” A grubby, soot covered face squeezed past the bulk of the door’s guardian, earning nothing but a grunt from him, and a pair of shockingly amber eyes met yours with a smile. “ ‘N who’s this good-lookin’ sheila?”
The scent of gasoline and musk -with an undertone of lemon- overwhelmed your senses, and the appearance of the new face shocked you out of your hesitancy. You took a step back, attempting to create some distance between the two figures imposing on your personal space, and backed straight into Lucio’s chest.
“This is Miss Briallen Marsh,” he supplied for you, gently squeezing your arms with a soft chuckle. “She’s Winston’s new hire, she’ll be working with us from now on. Briallen, this is Junkrat and Roadhog, two of our most recent additions to the roster.”
‘ Get your act together, Briallen! ’ you thought, instinctively holding out a hand for them to shake. “It-It’s nice to-to-to meet you! I’m-I’m looking forward to working with you!” you sputtered out, heart beating nervously in your chest. ‘ God, that stutter is going to get annoying… ’
Junkrat’s smile widened. “Really? The monkey’s got some good taste,” he said, breaking out into a somewhat manic laugh at your cringe. His laugh, however, was cut short when his companion swung a bear paw up to shake your hand, subsequently catching the shorter Australian on the head. The brute’s grasp was surprisingly gentle and his warm hand easily enveloped the entirety of your own, along with a bit of your forearm.
“I’d be nice if I were you, Junkrat,” Lucio warned with a soft laugh. “She’s going to be handling your files and everything. You never know what she might be capable of doing.”
You chuckled awkwardly, your hand going immediately cold as Roadhog pulled his away, and your stomach growled, loud enough that you knew they’d all heard. Blushing, you hid slightly behind your bangs.
Junkrat’s eyes lit up. “Gettin’ a bit nippish, there, are ya, sheila?” he chuckled, squeezing more of his gangly frame past Roadhog’s side. “Lucky for you, ya got here just in time! Hana’s making her special pancakes!”
As if stirred by his companion’s words, Roadhog turned and moved out of the way, gesturing to the long table set in the middle of the room. When you hesitated to move, unsure of whether you were really welcome or not, he simply nodded with a soft grunt and went to sit down himself, respecting your need for a bit of personal space. Junkrat, on the other hand, had no intentions of being so thoughtful.
With an odd flourish, he wrapped his large metal arm around your waist, guiding you to the table. Being so close, you could take in more than you could before; his limp, although obvious due to his metal leg, was almost angled towards you, as if he was weighed down by his prosthetic arm. In fact, his slouching, hunched form seemed to indicate that was exactly the case. It was an interesting detail to note, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he lost those limbs in the first place, and why, being part of Overwatch now and having plenty of new tech at his fingertips, he hadn’t replaced them with something lighter and more practical. How tall would he be if he put in the effort to fix his posture? He already stood a good bit taller than you, perhaps he would stand almost as tall as Roadhog? No, that was a bit too generous, he’d be at least half a foot shorter than his companion.
“So, sheila, what’s your opinion on explosives?” he asked, seeming to give a soft, euphoric shudder at the mention of them.
“Rat,” Roadhog warned, his voice a deep rumble.
Junkrat just waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, Roadie, I gotcha. ‘S just’a question.”
“Um,” you started, frowning a bit at the strange question. “I-I mean, um, I-I don’t know? I guess they can be, uh, can be pretty sometimes, like, if they’re fireworks or-or something, but, really, they’re dangerous and cause a lot of mess…”
He laughed maniacally again, and you could have sworn his grip tightened slightly around your waist. “That’s good enough for me!”
“What are you cackling about in there, Junkrat?” came the voice of a young woman as you sat down, a bit too close to the Aussie for your liking, but he had trapped you between himself and his companion, so there was nowhere for you to go. You recognised the voice and turned to see the familiar face of Hana Song, the professional gamer Iris had idolised. You’d watched many of her live streams back in the triplet’s flat, even though you weren’t really big into games.
The Korean was standing in another doorway, carrying a large plate of pancakes in one hand and a pile of smaller plates in the other. Her eyes widened when she saw you and she tipped her head in curiosity. “Who’s this?” she asked, coming over to set the plates on the table. Following behind her, with a pitcher of tea and a stack of cups, was a taller, darker-skinned figure who regarded you with a suspicious look. This woman, you didn’t really recognise, and the look of distrust in her eyes didn’t settle well with you.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact.
“Roadie, drumroll please!” Junkrat said, smiling delightedly.
Roadhog grumbled, but indulged him anyway, lightly patting his hands on the table, making it rattle from the force of the impact.
The more wiry of the two Aussies you were sandwiched between leapt up, placing a peg-leg on top the table, his hands on his hips. “May I present,” he said, somehow louder than he had been before, “Duh-duh-duh-duh! Miss Briallen March!”
“Marsh,” corrected the other, halting the drumroll and immediately reaching for a plate.
“Marsh,” Junkrat echoed, his smile unfading as he gestured to you with both hands, looking between the two women regarding you; Hana seemed amused, her companion, not so much.
“That doesn’t answer the question, Jamison,” the woman said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Junkrat scowled, sitting down and pouting like a child with his arms crossed huffily over his chest. “It’s Junkrat. And she’s Winston’s new assistant.” For a few seconds, it seemed like he was going to sulk for a while, but he, the ever shifting whirlwind, lit up at the sight of the pancakes and immediately began to pile some onto the plate Roadhog had slid over to him.
Almost at once, the woman’s expression changed; her eyes softened and widened at the same time, and she smiled warmly. “Well, why didn’t you say so? It’s nice to meet you! I’m Fareeha, and this is Hana,” she said, gesturing to the gamer, who had also begun to pile pancakes onto a plate.
“It’s, uh, a pleasure,” you said, relaxing a bit. “I-I hope you don’t mind that-that I came in for breakfast. I, uh, well, I haven’t eat-eaten anything since last night.” ‘ Duh! Of course you haven’t, idiot! ’
Fareeha laughed, tilting her head back a bit. “You’re a hoot! Of course we don’t mind, the more the merrier! Hana made some strawberry-oatmeal pancakes, and I made some sweet tea earlier. It was in the fridge for a while, so it should be nice and cold. Help yourself!”
You nodded a bit awkwardly, smiling despite yourself. Avoiding eye-contact, you took a couple pancakes and poured yourself a cup of tea. You listened to them talk easily with each other, slowly feeling more at ease until...
“So, sheila, I heard you took down Ol’ Roy Adams all by yer onsie!” Junkrat said, turning excitedly towards you.
“Um, yeah, I did,” you admitted, pushing a bit at the remnants of your breakfast. “I, um, didn’t-didn’t really mean to, it was just self-”
“Tell me all about it!” He practically jumped up from his seat, eyes sparkling. He turned a complete ninety degrees in his chair, folding his hands neatly on his lap like a child in church, eagerly listening to the preacher.
“I, uhm,” you murmured, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well…”
“Jamison,” Fareeha scolded, frowning over at him. “Not everyone is comfortable talking about… death. If Miss Marsh doesn’t want to talk about it, don’t push her.” She shook her head, and you finally caught sight of the tattoo under her eye. Suddenly, you knew exactly who she was.
Smiling a bit, you folded your hands between your knees and shook your head. “It’s-It’s alright, Miss Amari. I don’t-don’t mind too much. It’s not a-a very… exciting story…” And you fell into explaining what happened, pausing to answer a few questions from time to time, your nerves fading as you went on. By the time your story was finished, Junkrat was looking up at you, wide-eyed and in awe, a bright smile on his face.
“You really did all that?” he asked in a childlike whisper.
“Yeah. Not too impressive, I know,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.
“For one of us, maybe, but for a civilian,” Fareeha said, shaking her head.
“For a civvie, that’s fucking awesome!” Hana cut in, her eyes bright.
“Yes, it’s very impressive. Miss Marsh’s level of combative ability is quite surprising for a civilian of her stature, no offense,” another voice called from the door, making you jump in your skin. There was a chuckle in its cadence, a familiar warmth dancing through the words.
Turning around, you were granted the sight of the friendly-faced gorilla smiling over at you, adjusting his glasses.
You stood immediately, smoothing down your shirt, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t come-come straight to-to your office, sir,” you stuttered, suddenly feeling sickly nervous. “I-I, Lucio - I asked him to show me the mess hall so I could-could grab something to-to eat and-and-and I, um, I suppose I got distracted…”
Winston laughed, shaking his head. “There’s no need to apologise, Miss Marsh. In fact, I came here to grab some breakfast as well. Though, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to accompany me back to my office so we can get you all settled into your new job.”
You held back a sigh of relief and nodded. “Of-Of course, sir!”
Winston’s office was a lot neater than you had expected it to be, which really shouldn’t have surprised you. After all, while he was a scientist, he was also, on a mental and emotional level, a person, same as you. It was comprised of more open space than office, probably to accommodate for his gorilla-ness, but it was comforting nonetheless. Large holographic “windows” shed natural-looking light across the office, giving it a very open feel. Surprisingly, there were very few filing cabinets, perhaps two at most from what you could see. A handful of monitors sat on his desk, each lit up with a different image.
Winston settled down happily in his chair, dipping a peeled banana into a jar of peanut butter as he observed the monitors. “Come, have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Your communicator and card should be…” he tore his gaze from the screens and searched the drawers of his desk. “Ah! Here!” HIs smile was bright as he placed a small watch-like device and a simple-looking card on the top of his desk, pushing them towards you as you came over. “Sorry about yesterday. I was unusually busy and it completely slipped my mind to make sure these made their way to you. Athena flagged me down and informed me on your, er, predicament. I take it Lucio tried to make you take the bed?”
You chuckled and nodded, sitting in the only seat in front of his desk, picking up the items as you did so. The communicator felt light in your hand, lighter than any phone you’d ever owned in the past five years, and resembled an old Pineapple Watch. Interested, you held it up and admired the sleekness of the design. “Yes, he did. I didn’t give in, though,” you responded, looking at your reflection in the metal. “It didn’t feel right, imposing like that. I was already taking up space in his room, I couldn’t take his bed.”
Winston chuckled and held out a large hand, on which you placed the watch. “Here, hold out your arm.”
You did as you were instructed and watched as he balanced the device on your wrist, tapped the flat surface on the top, and the device moulded to the shape of your wrist. Your eyes widened in surprise and you twisted your arm this way and that, trying to get a good look at the device from every angle. It was perfectly moulded to the shape of your forearm, no seam to be seen, and the flat surface was lit up with different clinical measurements, such as your heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, etc. After a second, the screen changed, displaying the words “Please Hold Communicare Before Face”. Doing so caused the text to change to, “Thank You. Please Hold Still”, then, after another second, the text disappeared altogether, replaced with a small image of your face, your name, blood type, age, and other information. Apparently, you were allergic to avocados. Who knew?
“Intriguing, isn’t it? They link to Athena’s database and communicate with each other, whether off-base or on,” Winston said, his eyes bright. You couldn’t help but think of Gibson and his love of technology. He would have gone apeshit over this. No pun intended. “I made them myself, with a little bit of help from our technologies department, of course. I’ll send you the manual a bit later, but, let’s get down to business, shall we?”
You lowered your arm and nodded, folding your hands in your lap. “Yes-Yes sir, of-of course! I can’t wait to-to get started!” you said, smiling up at him.
His smile became confused, his eyes concerned as he looked you over. “Miss Marsh… I hate to ask, and in no way is this intended to be rude, but, I feel I must know. The accident all those years ago, did it… Did it leave you with a permanent stutter?”
You blushed vibrantly, embarrassment flooding over you. Your stutter was a slightly sensitive topic, one you tended to avoid at all costs, but, here in front of your boss, you couldn’t quite do that. “Uhm, uh, n-no it didn’t. I, uhm, Have a habit of-of-of stuttering when-when I’m nervous… My, uh, my-my old therapist said it-it’s a self.... Self-confidence thing,” you murmured, fiddling with your fingers as you looked away. You tried desperately to control it, but, it seemed the more you fought to keep it under wraps, the worse it became. “I’m… I’ve been trying to-to work on it.”
You heard him sigh softly, the sound of clicking keyes following quickly after. You knew, without even trying, that he was pulling up your file - you couldn’t count the number of times this happened during an interview - and you knew what was coming next; Winston would see your file, read everything Ms. Lawson had written about you, all the problems you had after your accident - trouble saying anything for a while, which developed into a crippling stutter that slowly began to fade, frequent lapses in memory, the bits of your brain they’d put metal and programming into just to keep you functioning, how you’d refused to eat for a while, convinced the world would be better off without you, after all, you were a bad person, and so many more things you didn’t want to recount. Then, once he’d read all that, he’d say-
“I see. It says here you stopped seeing Miss Lawson before you finished the therapy for the accident. Would-”
“I couldn’t afford it,” you cut in, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Most-Most of her patients have family that help p-pay for the-the-the therapy and counseling. I didn’t have that luxury.”
Yes, everything was following the usual routine. Next, he’d give you a pitying look, clap you on the back and say-
“I’m sorry, Miss Marsh, but I’m afraid we can’t afford to have you working for us. Please, pack your things and go home.”
“I can see this is a topic you’d rather not discuss,” he hummed softly, settling back in his seat. “Why don’t we move on?”
Wait, that’s not what he was supposed to say! You looked up at him in surprise, met the sympathising look on his face, and smiled gratefully, relief coursing through you. Your fingers stopped running along the semi-sharp edge of your keycard and you nodded. ‘ He’s… not going to make me quit? ’
His grin was rather large and toothy, making you feel at ease despite it’s innate wildness. “I take it the Commander explained most of the heavy parts of your position yesterday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, that means I get the easy part!” Winston chuckled, taking a bite of the banana. “So, first thing I want to say is, welcome to the family! While you’re working here, you’re one of us, which also means that you don’t need to be so formal around us, especially me. At least, when it’s just us agents. Don’t want the others to think they can drop formalities, now, do we? Anyways, while I am your boss, I’d much rather be your friend, so you can relax a bit. I’m not going to bite your head off or anything.”
Five floors. The elevator, thankfully large enough to accommodate the gorilla’s size, took you two down five floors below the office level, which you had learned was at least four floors underground. How deep did this building go? How far underground where you right now? You hadn’t had a chance to leave the facility yet, so you had no idea, nothing to judge by, especially as every floor felt the same as the one above it. Athena must have some pretty intricate atmosphere conditioning programs.
“Your first job will be easy,” Winston explained, leading you down the brightly lit hallway. Unlike the floors above, this one didn’t have any holo-windows, suggesting there were no offices or living spaces. Bright, fluorescent lights hung over your head, casting harsh lighting down onto you as you walked. The air smelled of dust and books, many, many old books. You loved it.
“As much as I would love to say we’re completely up to date on our technologies and keeping everything digitalised, I cannot. As a general rule, we always keep paper copies of things, just in case our system is hacked.” He puffed up his chest a bit. “Not that it’s a scenario which would most definitely play out. I like to think I’ve outsmarted the hackers, but, I can’t say that my systems are completely unable to be tapped into.” He pushed open a door and flicked a light switch. The lights flickered slowly to life, giving off a dull hum of electricity only found in old tech.
‘ Strange... so, this floor isn’t linked to Athena’s system? ’ You coughed as a wave of dust flew into your face as he pushed the door open further, revealing a large records room filled with shelves packed with boxes upon boxes, the contents of most threatening to spill over and flood the floor with papers. ‘ Well… shite. ’
You could practically feel Winston’s uneasy smile as he stepped into the room, gesturing you to follow. “Yes, I know it looks like a lot, and, I won’t lie, it is. These are all of our paper documents since… Maybe twelve years ago? I need them sorted, organised, tossed, whatever, but that can wait. The most important information is right here.” He picked up a box which stood out like a sore thumb; it was new, lacking the coating of dust the others had, and was neatly organised and not full to brimming. “These are the agent’s files, our combat agents, I should specify. They need to be looked through, agents that are… no longer with us… I don’t want you to throw them out, just….” His eyes softened with pain as he let out a soft grunt.
“Just update them?” you offered, reaching out to take the box from him. It was surprisingly heavy, for a box just filled with papers. ‘ Just how old is this information? ’ you thought, looking down at the files. For the box to be this heavy, the paper had to have been at least fifteen years old. With the ever-evolving state of technology, scientists had invented a much lighter, less wasteful type of paper that utilised small amounts of wood pulp and more synthetic materials, such as thinly woven silicon, glass, and a material that mimicked plant fibres. Noone used the old style of paper anymore.
He smiled at your attempt. “In a way, yes. There’s a stamp in my office that I had hoped would never have to be used, but, I suppose it will. Come, follow me. I’ll get you set up in your office.”
‘ I get my own office?! ’ You nodded, withholding an excited smile and tucking the box under an arm so you could turn the light off and shut the door behind you before scurrying after Winston. “So, I take it I’ll be comparing Athena’s more updated files to these old ones and adjusting the old ones accordingly?”
Winston smiled, gesturing for you to enter the elevator before him as the metal doors slid open. “You’re quick!”
You blushed. “Well, it-it-it wasn’t that hard to-to-to deduce, I-I mean, I have had to do, to do this before.”
“You discredit yourself, Miss Marsh,” he sighed, shaking his head as he clambered in after you. “It’s good to be humble, yes, but not so humble that you beat yourself down.” With a small, understanding smile, he gently placed one of his large hands on your back, careful not to knock you over. “So, seeing as you already understand what you’re going to be doing, I suppose I can just leave you to it, then. I’ll link your authorisation level to your Communicare, which should allow you to access the files you need in Athena’s database.”
Notes:
Hey y'all! This story is heavily influenced by all of you, so, make sure to leave your comments or pop by my Tumblr @candiedgears to leave a pm if you want! Love you all and I'll see you in the next chapter!
Chapter Text
A week. You’d been at this for a week already, and you were no more than halfway done with the files Winston had tasked you with updating. Just how many friggin’ files did he have in that box?! At least a dozen too many, in your opinion. You were honestly ready to throw in the towel, call it a day, a year even, and just quit. But, then, you couldn’t do that, could you? It was either this or risk being tracked down by Arachnid, and that wouldn’t be any fun.
Groaning, you tossed the current file to the ground, pulling at your already messy bangs. Your shoulders ached, your stomach grumbled, and your eyes begged to close, but you couldn’t take a break, not until you got done with today’s batch. That’s what you’d told yourself, and you were determined to stick with it, even if that meant staying in your office for ten plus hours a day, six days a week. If it hadn’t been for Lena, Lucio, and Hana checking in on you from time to time, or Winston’s sporadically-timed meetings which he needed you to attend, you’d have gone crazy with cabin fever by now.
“Is everything alright, Miss Marsh?” came Athena’s modulated and disembodied voice. “I have been monitoring your vital signs and have noticed various signs of anger or frustration. Would you like to talk about it? I have learned that humans sometimes feel better after talking out their complex emotions.”
You chuckled and leaned back in your chair, covering your eyes with an arm. “No, no, I’m fine, Athena, thank you for asking. I’m just… A bit overwhelmed with all of this. There are so many files to update. I’m a week in and only halfway done…”
“I see. I could play some music, if you’d like. That might make it feel as if time is going faster,” she offered, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“That’d be wonderful, Athena, thank you.” Within a second, soft music began playing through the room’s speakers, and you smiled before picking up the file you’d tossed, and getting back to work. This was the last file, you told yourself, the last file before you investigated the strange, thick one you’d noticed earlier.
The files had been sorted in alphabetical order, only a few bearing the “deceased” stamp Winston had displayed a disliking for, which showed that you were not the first to go through these files. Though, judging by the amount of data missing from some of them, the last person to go through them had to have done so quite a few years ago. What was strange to you, however, was a file between “McCree, Jesse”, and “Morrison, Jack” labeled “Morgan, Morrigan”. You’d never heard of a “Morgan, Morrigan” before, which didn’t really surprise you - you couldn’t have full knowledge of every person who ever worked for Overwatch -, but the thing that piqued your interest most was that this one file in particular had multiple files in it, and the word “CLASSIFIED” printed in large, bright red letters across the front.
“Morrigan Morgan,” you murmured, running your fingers over the name printed on the thick manila paper. The name had a strangely familiar ring to it, as if you’d known this person, heard their name called a thousand times before, yet couldn’t recall a face, a voice, or a memory to associate with it. Opening the file revealed at least eight agent files, and opening these made your stomach turn. Even so, your curiosity got the better of you, and you persisted, reading each file carefully;
“ Adams, Tazwell
Alias; Hunter
B.O.O; Durban, South America
Death - 12/01/20xx 23:05 pm. Tazwell Adams was shot dead in his own home. Guards remained unaware of the happenings within the home until the next morning. No signs of forced entry or struggle. No other casualties. Assailant unknown. ”
You recognised the man in the picture to be Hunter, one of the older, less popular Overwatch agents back when it was still in action. He didn’t seem too much older than you when he died, in fact, his profile even showed him to be the same age as you were currently.
‘ I wonder why he was murdered… ’ you thought, sorting through the few pictures attached to the file. Adams seemed like a great guy, many of the pictures showed him helping out in those still-destitute areas of South Africa. ‘ Or why he’s in Morrigan’s file… Who is this Morrigan anyway? ’
Setting aside Tazwell’s file, you moved on to the next;
“ al-Ghanem, Mumina
Alias; Masquerade
B.O.O; Palembang, Indonesia
Death - 12/05/20xx 15:18 pm. Mumina al-Ghanem was found locked inside her freezer, having frozen to death. All guards were found either incapacitated, with the worst showing signs of a major concussion, or dead. Signs of forced entry and a struggle were found. Total casualties - 6; Mumina al-Ghanem, Rose al-Ghanem (wife), and four guards. Assailant unknown. ”
You shivered at the image of the old woman’s frozen body, almost feeling the cold yourself. She looked to be around Mrs. Amari’s age, with children of her own in some of the photos after. It looked like all three of them had decided to work for Overwatch as well, though, not as active agents like their mother.
‘ Okay… so that’s two agents on this Morrigan’s list… I wonder what her goal was.. ’ You quickly moved on to the next file;
“ Egland, Nikolai
Alias; Wildfire
B.O.O; Oslo, Norway
Death - 12/10/20xx 17:30 pm. Nikolai Egland was found dead in his bathtub, along with a toaster taken from his kitchen. Guards reported hearing a commotion, followed by Nikolai’s screams, but were unable to make it in time to apprehend the assailant. No signs of forced entry. Assailant unknown. ”
‘ How do they know it wasn’t a suicide, though? ’ you thought, shuffling through the few pictures of Wildfire. He had been a popular agent back then, handsome, charming, fit, well-off, he practically had it all. But, you knew from experience that there could be a lot hidden behind a dazzling smile.
Frowning, you paused, beginning to organise the read profiles by order of the death date, something about this making the back of your neck tingle as it did when you felt something was off. ‘ All of these deaths… It can’t be a serial killer, they always have an M.O.. I can’t seem to see one here, other than the targets were all Overwatch agents… These files… they were in Morrigan’s… Did she kill all of these people? They’re all within the same month!’
“ Karali, Calliope
Alias; Pandora
B.O.O; Athens, Greece
Death - 12/25/20xx 07:00 am. Calliope Karali and her immediate family were all found dead inside their house on Christmas morning, hours after a distress call had been sent out to the Overwatch HQ. Autopsy reports revealed cause of death to be extended exposure to deadly amounts of Cyanogen, though the house was free of the toxic gas upon arrival of agents Newmann (deceased, case unreleased) and Hawkins. All doors had been sealed shut from the outside, trapping the family in with the deadly toxin and ensuring their deaths. All guards were later found decapitated, their bodies heaped in a pile outside the house, with a trail melted through the snow to ensure the assailant’s footprints could not be tracked. Total casualties - 14; Calliope Karali, Matthaios Karali (father), Eliana Karali (mother), Dora Karali (younger sister), and ten guards. Assailant unknown, suspected to be Morrigan Morgan. ”
Your heart squeezed in sorrow as you read this case, a certain pain washing over you that you couldn’t really place. ‘ She was only sixteen… And to be killed in such an awful way… ’ Quickly, without even looking at the photos, you set the profile aside, opting to move onto the next before your emotions could overwhelm you.
“ Kuroki, Urena
Alias; Impulse
B.O.O; Nagoya, Japan
Death - 12/30/20xx 13:50 pm. Urena Kuroki and her lover were found lounging on the living room couch, each with a bullet between the eyes. Assailant, Morrigan Morgan, AKA Black Wasp, identified via security cameras placed throughout the house, escaped and is now on the IWEDC. Heavy emphasis is to be placed on all forms of security concerning the living spaces of agents and their immediate family, and all agents are strongly encouraged to come live at the HQ until Morgan is caught and incarcerated. ”
“Athena, what is the IWEDC?” you asked, looking through the photos in the file.
“The IWEDC, otherwise known as the International Watchlist of Extremely Dangerous Criminals, is an international database on the world’s most dangerous criminals at large. To date, there have never been more than four names on the list at a time.”
‘ Jeez! That means that this Morrigan is scary dangerous... ’ Reading through the rest, you weren’t really shocked by what you found after that; “Lefrancois, Ludovic - Malicious drowning; Pattyu, Anissa - Dragging death; Preece, Gwylan - Crushed between two hacked autonomous cars…” But, after those files, there was nothing, nothing except long-dried smeared ink suggesting someone put a fresh paper in there, then thought better about it.
Thoroughly concerned now, you finished sorting the files by death date and frowned. “Athena, search the database for a Morrigan Morgan,” you instructed, turning towards your holoscreen as you spoke. You couldn’t help it now; you had to know whether or not this person had been caught.
“Of course, Miss Marsh. Scanning… Found.”
Your screen flickered as it slowly began pulling up the record, but, before you could begin to read any of it, it flashed and changed, denying you access. “ Authorisation level 5 ” it read. You sighed in frustration, scratching your neck. ‘ I’ve been denied access? Well, I suppose I’m only supposed to be looking at agent’s files, but… surely Winston would have known I’d find this, right? What- ’
Your door slid open, startling you, and you only just managed to dismiss your screen in time for the commander himself to step in. “C-C-Commander!” you stuttered, giving him a nervous smile. “You-You-You startled me! What, uh, what can I do for-for you?”
He paused a second, as if analysing your behaviour, making you panic silently in your head, before he seemed to relax a bit. “I’ve come to fetch you. Did you already forget about your first training lesson?”
You fought back a sigh of relief, shaking your head as you stood and started furiously gathering up the files. “N-N-No sir! Of course not, sir! I-I just lost track of-of-of time and-”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Leave your stuff where it is, Soldier. No one’s going to come in here and move it. Come with me, I’ll lead you to the training room.”
“Yes, sir.”
He lead you quickly down a few levels to the training room, tossing you a pair of clothes almost as soon as you came in behind him. “Go get changed. We don’t want you ruining that pretty uniform Eugene had made for you.”
You nodded, easily catching the bundle and scurrying into the locker room where he pointed. It was nice and clean, and you got change quickly into the sweats and tank top. You felt a bit uncomfortable as you stepped out and went to stand on the mat, awkwardly looking around. Of course, you didn’t make a fuss about it; you didn’t want the Commander thinking that something like this unnerved you and it was only just a bit out of your comfort zone. You could handle this.
Crossing an arm over your chest, you attempted to hide yourself as you waited for your opponent to show up. You hoped he hadn’t chosen anyone too overly fit, you were still mostly out of shape. Though you were a sucker for yoga, you had skipped leg day… and arm day, and cardio day, and all the days in between. So, while you had impeccable flexibility, your strength and endurance were a little more than somewhat lacking.
“Hey, sorry I’m late, Commander! Got a little caught up with everything, you know how it is,” came a voice from the doorway, and you nearly melted where you stood.
The man was tall, statuesque, and drool-worthy. A playful, crooked smile, messy black hair, and a cheerful laugh was all it took for you to be rooted to the spot, staring. It was easy to tell he was way far out of your league. It didn’t help that he was quickly stripping down to an undershirt and a pair of shorts as he approached the mat, letting you practically salivate as you watched his muscles shift. You could already feel the familiar anxiety building up in your chest.
“That’s alright, Mr. Rose. We all seem to have busy schedules nowadays. Miss Marsh, this is Mr. Rose, until he’s determined you’re in enough shape and fighting form to be sparring with our agents, he’ll be your sparring partner and your instructor. Mr. Rose, this is Miss Marsh. Treat her well, she’s Winston’s new assistant, we can’t break her too quickly.”
Mr. Rose turned to you, flashing a bright smile that made it hard to take your eyes off him, and held out a hand as he stepped onto the mat. “Ah, so this is the brilliant new assistant I’ve been hearing about for the past week! The name’s Dean.”
You stared at him, starstruck for a moment, before snapping to your senses and leaping forward, almost jabbing your nails into his palm as you went to shake his hand. “Bri-Bri-Briallen. It-It-It-It’s nice to-to-to meet you, s-s-s-sir!”
Dean laughed, his warm hand enveloping yours as he shook it, making your skin tingle. “Are you always this formal with everyone?”
You blushed and looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Mr. Rose served as a Sergeant in the American Army for quite a long time. He has a lot of wisdom to pass onto you, Soldier. I suggest you learn what you can, while you can.”
You nodded fervently, unable to look up at the man currently standing before you. ‘ If this Dean stays my instructor for longer than a few days, I think I’m actually going to die… ’
Dean let out a breathy chuckle, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. “Don’t worry too much, Miss Marsh,” he said, drawing back a bit. “I’ll be sure to go easy on you at first. So, why don’t we start by seeing where you’re at right now. Go on, hit me as hard as you can.”
You started a bit, eyes wide as he stepped back and held his arms out. “Um… okay…” ‘ I can’t hit him! I don’t want to hurt him, I mean, I doubt I would hurt him, I’m such a marshmallow, but, still, I don’t want to hurt him… But if I don’t… ’ Furrowing your brow, you clenched your hand into a fist, stiffened up a bit, and punched him lamely in the chest.
His smile faltered a bit as he let out a sigh, shaking his head and dropping his arms. “Miss Marsh-”
Your cheeks felt as if they were on fire as you looked away, crossing your arms over your stomach. “I-I know I just… I don’t-don’t want to-to-to hurt you.”
He chuckled, reaching forward to grab your hands. “You’re not going to hurt me. Here,” he tugged at your wrists and you let him pull your arms away from your body. You wouldn’t have done this had you realised he was planning on pressing one hand flat against his chest and the other against his abdomen. “See? Like solid steel. I promise you aren’t going to hurt me, and, if you somehow do, I’ll be insanely impressed.”
He was right. The muscles under your hands were incredibly firm, almost completely solid. It made your mouth water. You quickly dispersed those thoughts. ‘ I can’t hurt him? ’' you found a buried, stubborn part of you aching to prove him wrong, which worked perfectly alongside the part of you that deeply wanted to impress him. Flexing your hands, you nodded and backed up, rearing back for the punch.
The cafeteria was a buzz with conversation when you walked in, much more than normal. Excitement rippled through the air, penetrating your tired shell and giving you a bit of energy as you made your way over to the table where Lena and Hana sat, tucked in a corner out of everyone’s sight. It was the same table you’d been sitting at for the last two weeks, slowly getting into your routine which consisted of variations between work, training, and down time. The Morgan files had gone to the back of your mind recently, too focused with trying to get into shape as fast and as well as you could, but they still popped up from time to time.
Lena perked up when she caught sight of you, beaming and gesturing excitedly towards you. “Bri, Bri! Hurry up! Your Shepherd's Pie is going to get cold!”
You chuckled and kicked your slow lumber up a notch, your stomach eagerly awaiting the food that you could already smell. “Alright, alright, Lena! Cool your jets! Not everyone can be as fast as you, you know,” you teased, sliding in beside her. “What’s with all the excitement today, anyway? I could swear that this place is louder than it normally is.”
“What, you haven’t heard?” Hana asked, looking up from her bag of chips in surprise.
“Well, obviously not. Care to fill me in?”
“The company’s hosting the annual Halloween party next week. It’s basically a guys ask the girls.”
You raised an eyebrow. “That’s what everyone’s excited about?”
“Yeah, “guys ask girls” can only apply to straight people,” Lean snickered, taking a bite of her own Sheperd’s Pie. “I thought it would sound better if it was “bottoms ask tops”, but Winston quickly shot that one down.”
You snorted, almost choking on your drink as laughter bubbled up in your chest. “Le-Lena!” you cried at the same time that Hana groaned and facepalmed.
“What? It’s true! Anyway, what everyone’s really excited for is to see which special agent brings what person to the party. They already have betting started.”
“Wait, they bet over this?” you asked, shocked.
Hana chortled. “You bet they do! You think fandoms are the only people who ship? I can guarantee at least two pairings are going to be big in the betting roster this year; Reinhardt and Anna, Brigitte and I, and Jesse and Hanzo. I have my money on Jesse going stag again this year.”
“I’m surprised Jesse and Hanzo are still that big in the bets. How many years has Hanzo refused to go? I swear, he’s such a stick in the mud, I really don’t know what Jesse sees in him,” Lena admitted, letting out a sad sigh.
‘ So, wait, does that mean Jesse and this Hanzo are a couple? Or does that just mean Jesse’s got it bad for him? ’ you thought, drowning out the chatter of the other two girls at the table. ‘ Anyway, I’m probably not going to go. Parties aren’t really my scene, too many people, too much noise. I’ll probably just end up spending my time down at the shelter…’
“Ah, Miss Marsh, there you are!”
Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked up to meet familiar green eyes looking down at you, sparkling with a grin.
“Oh, OH! Uh, D-Dean! I, uh, I didn’t-didn’t expect to-to-to see you here! What a -what a surprise!” you stuttered, trying hard not to drop anything in your lap as your hands desperately sought for something to do in the midst of your nerves. “It’s, it’s nice to see you again, you know, after yesterday, and the day before that, every day, for the past two weeks.” You heard Lena attempt to stifle a snicker behind you and you quickly retaliated with a sharp pinch on her arm, out of Dean’s sight. Clearing your throat, you attempted a relatively normal smile. “What, uh, what can I do you for- do, do for you?”
Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head a bit. “Nothing much. I’ve just been trying to get a hold of you for the past half an hour to remind you that our training session is going to be in a different hall today.”
“Really, I don’t remember…” you quickly looked down at your com and, sure enough, there were five missed calls from him. Embarrassed, you flushed and laughed awkwardly. “In-Indeed you have. I must have, I don’t know, had it on silent or something- Not that I’m trying to avoid you! Not at all, I just, sometimes it’s easier to, you know, do my work without, without any distractions. But-But yes, I remember.” Lena trembled beside you, obviously trying to hold in her laughter, and you swore you were going to hurt her if she said anything.
“Good! I’ll see you there in about half an hour, then!” Dean said, giving a small dip of his head in acknowledgement of the two others at the table before making his way out of the cafeteria.
As soon as he was out of earshot, both girls burst out in laughter, and you groaned, hitting your head on the table, almost getting your hair in the food. “I’m hopeless,” you groaned, repeatedly, and lightly, tapping your forehead against the hard surface.
“Oh, Bri, luv, you’re not hopeless,” Lena giggled, trying to fight it back as she patted your shoulder. “That was… Well, quite frankly that was quite adorable.”
“And obvious,” Hana added, shaking her head. “Why don’t you just ask him out on a date?”
“Because he’s my instructor!” you wailed, looking miserably up at her. “And if he says no or the date doesn’t go well, I still have to deal with him on a daily basis! Just think about how awkward that would be, Hana. I’d never be able to leave my room again!”
“I doubt it would be that bad,” Lena started.
You glared up at her.
“Or, maybe it would be. Look, the point is, you won’t know until you try. And, sooner or later, he’s going to find someone else. You’ve gotta shoot your shot when you can, Briallen!”
Your shoulder slammed into the mat. Hard. Pain ripped through your arm and you stifled the cry that tried to escape your lips. Weakness wasn’t an option. The weight of your opponent pressed into your spine, grinding your hips painfully into the mat, fire racing through your upper back as your arms were pinned roughly behind you. You struggled under your opponent, desperately trying to rip your good arm out of their grasp and free yourself.
“Come on, pussy,” they growled, grinding their sharp hips into your lower back, making you groan in pain. “Tap out. You can’t be the favourite forever, and you know you can’t beat me.”
You bucked and twisted furiously, a surge of anger rushing through you at their words. You weren’t going to admit defeat. Not to them. With one last, aggressive twist, you managed to get a leg bent beneath you. Pushing up with all your might, you knocked their weight askew, allowing you to rip your arms from their grasp and completely push yourself up, sending them tumbling to the ground.
Though your left arm felt weak and heavy you knew you had no time to spare. If you wasted even a second they would strike again and you wouldn’t stand a chance. Thankfully, it wasn’t your right arm they had injured.
“Would you like to tap out now, Miss Marsh?” Dean asked, adjusting his grip on your wrists so he was holding them just tight enough to keep you pinned on your back. His weight rested gently on your hips, not enough to hurt, but, again, enough to keep you pinned.
Sweat dripped down the side of your face as you tugged uselessly at your arms; Dean was fast and, while he had promised not to hurt you too early on in your training, he hadn’t promised mercy.
“No,” you responded, giving up on your current strategy and pausing to take a rest. Already it was obvious that you wouldn’t be good at fighting fair; though you were getting quicker, you were small and not very strong, which meant you’d have to rely on your wits instead of brawn when it came to melee.
You’d found it strange that off the sparring mat he made you so flustered, gave you all kinds of butterflies and flutterbies and what have you, but, the moment you two stepped onto the mat, it was like you were a different person. No longer did his mere presence make you stutter like a kid in primary school, no longer were your palms sweaty, knees weak, and your tongue tied, but you were focused, determined, and almost like a normal socially functioning human being. You could hold entire conversations with him while you sparred, could discuss politics if you felt like it, and then the moment you were done, you went right back to being slightly solidified jello; wiggly enough to mess up your words, but solid enough to know you were fucking it all up.
“No, let me work it out.” ‘ I need a way to get him off of me that doesn’t include ripping my arms out of their sockets… I could fake him out… Get him to climb off me and then turn the tables on him… ’ You held back a grin as you committed to the act, and threw your head to the side to face the doorway, eyes wide. “C-Commander!”
Dean’s head shot up in surprise and you immediately seized the opportunity to catch him off guard. Grinning, you pushed up through your legs, twisting your back to swing a leg up to catch his waist, using the momentum to roll him onto his back and pinning him in place.
Castleton green eyes blinked up at you. You smirked down at them. Your noses almost brushed as you grabbed his wrists, holding them above his head in the same fashion he’d held yours.
“Oh, that was very sneaky, Miss Marsh,” he laughed, surprised and obviously restraining himself as he “fought” back. There was no way in hell you were strong enough to hold him down. “Very sneaky and unfair.”
You laughed as well, struggling to hold his wrists down as he playfully wiggled around. “Hey! Stay still and let me pin you for once!”
He raised his head just a bit, nearly bumping his nose against yours. “Oh? And what if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll make you!” you responded, shifting your weight forward to hold his hands down better.
“I’d like to see you try, pipsqueak!”
“Pipsqueak?!” Your voice cracked in a squeak as you echoed his teasing insult, and you giggled at it with him. “Oh, you’re in for it now, jerkwad!”
“Jerkwad? That’s not a nice name to call your date, now, is it?”
You froze, confused. “What?”
“Briallen, would you do me the honour of being my date to the Halloween party?” he asked.
You were dumbstruck and quickly losing any confidence the sparring mat had given you today. Did he really just ask you to be his date? Did that qualify as asking you out? Obviously your answer would be yes, right? It had to be yes, how could you turn this down, but would it?
As you were busy mulling these thoughts over in your head, Dean was busy with getting his revenge. Before you could blink twice, you found your back hitting the mat again, a soft “whuff” leaving your lips as he pinned you back on the mat. “Nice try, Miss Marsh,” he chuckled, leaning forward, breath brushing your ear, “but if you’re going to play dirty, I am as well.” With that, he hauled himself off of you, tousling his hair. “I think that’s enough for today. Go ahead and towel off.”
You sat up, cheeks aflame, and pride hurt. He really just used your obvious attraction to him like that. What a dick move! He-
“And I would appreciate an answer soon.”
Wait, what? You blinked, furry ebbing. “Pardon?”
He turned back to face you, already beginning to towel off the sweat that coated his skin. He was grinning, almost boyishly. “What, did you think I didn’t mean it when I asked you to be my date? Come one, Briallen, you should know me at least a little better than that!” He chuckled when you sat there, dumbstruck and staring at him. “So?”
You jumped, your brain suddenly kicking into high gear and the embarrassment seeping in again. “Y-Yes, of course! I-I’d like-love to come with you!”
“Great! Just tell me what you’re going as, and I’ll dress to match.”
You were about to ask what he meant when the doors to the training room slid open and the Commander walked in, breaking the atmosphere. “Mr. Rose, how’s she coming along?” he asked, walking up to stand beside the mat as Dean tossed you a towel.
“She’s progressing at an extraordinary rate, sir. She managed to get me pinned to the mat this time, while also learning the importance of not letting her guard down,” he responded, smirking over at you, making you smile.
The Commander nodded. “Good, good.”
You pushed yourself up, keen to get off the sweat-soaked mat, but with a slight limp; one of your knees had hit the mat pretty hard when Dean had knocked you to the ground earlier and, while it thankfully wasn’t broken or shattered, it was a bit swollen and pulsed with heat. You were used to small aches and pains, however, after having worked hours at a time at your desk for a couple weeks, and getting beat up on the mat, be it by Dean or one of the other agents-in-training, so it didn’t bother you too much.
“Get an icepack on that, Soldier,” the Commander said gruffly, crossing his arms as he caught sight of your limp.
“Yes, sir,” you responded almost immediately, quickly wiping yourself down and slipping on a jacket as the AC kicked on, chilling your skin. You did as you were told, grabbing one of the adhesive, mouldable ice packs and sticking it on your knee.
“I’ll have McCree grab a biotic emitter for the ride downtown, we don’t want you looking like you just got beat up when you arrive.”
“Ride, sir?” you asked, cocking your head a bit as you furrowed your eyebrows. You weren’t aware of any meetings today, especially not one that was a Triple O (Out Of Office, as Winston liked to call it). You were almost one hundred percent sure that there weren’t any meetings for the rest of the day, and you checked and updated your calendar regularly. “I was unaware there were any meetings today.”
“Yes, well, it is a spur of the moment kind of thing. One of our negotiators fell ill and we need a step in. Winston seems to think you could use the experience,” he turned his head, meeting your gaze with powder blue eyes; he’d long since stopped wearing his visor around you, after the time you caught him with it off and lost your shit. You were chill with it now, of course. “That is, of course, if you don’t object to it.”
Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head. “Of course not, sir!”
He smiled and nodded. “Good. Then I’ll need you fresh-faced and properly dressed in an hour. This beneficiary is very formal and we want to make a good impression. You’ll be leaving around 1400 hours.”
You nodded, quickly downing at least half of your water bottle before standing. “Yes, sir, of course.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Marsh,” Dean said, tossing his towel over his shoulder and giving you a wink. “Good luck at that meeting.”
You blushed a bit, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Y-Yeah, thanks.”
“Miss Marsh, if you would please, I do have something I’d like to discuss with you,” said the Commander, letting his arms drop. “I’ll come with you so I don’t waste any of your time.”
Frowning a bit, you nodded and scurried after the old soldier as he turned to leave, clutching your water bottle tightly in one hand.
“A couple of weeks ago, I found a rather interesting set of files on your desk,” he started after a couple seconds of agonising silence, walking next to you down the hall. His voice was calm, non-accusatory, but the topic still gave you chills; you’d been hoping no one found out about those. “Where did you get them?”
“I-I-In the box of-of-of files Winston gave me to update the first week,” you answered truthfully, swallowing nervously. You could already tell where this was going; you were going to get told off for trying to access files outside of your rank. For the past couple weeks, when you weren’t preoccupied with your work, training, or friends, you were doing everything in your power to learn everything you could about this Morrigan Morgan. You hadn’t found much due to your current level of clearance, but still, you felt like you were close to something, and there was just something about this person that you couldn’t ignore; you couldn’t get them out of your head, couldn’t shake the feeling of deja vu, couldn’t help but want to know as much about them as you could.
The Commander hummed softly, glancing at you through the corner of his eye before looking ahead again, clasping his hands behind his back. “Tell me, Miss Marsh, what did you think of the contents of the files?”
“U-Um, well, I, uh, I think whoever this Morgan person is, they’re dangerous, like, really scarily dangerous. But… I think, no, sorry, I know there’s more to the story than what I’ve read so far,” you said, rubbing your arm. “Some of those files hinted at the possibility of them having had… associates of some kind, perhaps even a whole organisation backing them.”
He nodded, turning the corner with you. “That’s true, she did, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is the fact that you should not have access to any of those files. I want you to forget everything you’ve read and drop the subject, Miss Marsh.”
‘ She? So Morgan’s a girl… ’ You started a bit as he said this, unwilling to actually give up the case; you felt as if you’d been getting close to something, some of that information just didn’t sit right with you, as if something was off or missing. It felt too important and you couldn’t just let it go, not when you felt as if you were getting so close, but, you held your tongue and nodded, swallowing a bit. “Yes-Yes, sir, of-of-of course, sir.”
“You do understand that there will be repercussions if you don’t?” he turned his gaze back on you, his eyes seeming to say ‘I don’t want to punish you, but I will if I have to.’
You nodded again, though in your head, you’d already resolved to do the exact opposite. Something had to be going on, something big, especially if the Commander was telling you to drop your investigation, if you could even call it that. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll leave you to it then, Soldier. You know where to meet them?”
“Yes, sir. In the car park, ground floor.”
He nodded with a grunt and turned off down another hallway, leaving you to walk to your room by yourself.
Lena’s smile was bright as she greeted you in the car park, calling your name excitedly. She was dressed in an adorable suit and you could see the handle of a handgun poking discreetly out from the waistband of her pants. “Well, well, well, there she is! How’d training go?” she asked, grinning smugly.
“Um, well. Dean asked me to be his date to the party,” you admitted, giving her a sheepish smile.
Her eyes went wide and she let her crossed arms drop. “No way.”
You chuckled. “Would I lie about that? He said something about what I was going as, is this a costume party?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Well, duh! It’s a Halloween party, Briallen! What else would it be? But that’s so bloody amazing that he asked you out! You really struck out, luv!”
“So, Dean Rose asked you to be his date?” came the familiar Southern drawl from the door to the car park, followed quickly by the familiar crooked smile and the smell of cigars and whisky as McCree approached you two. “It’s a shame, but I suppose a pretty lady such as yourself was bound to get snatched up sooner or later,” he teased with a wink, chuckling as you blushed. “Just let me know if he doesn’t treat you right, I’ll be tannin’ his hide faster than you can say ‘draw’.”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay, dad , whatever you say.”
He shot you a playfully wounded look. “Aww, now, I’m hurt. Y’could at least say ‘daddy’ instead.”
“Nope! That conversation’s over! Let’s get in the car and get to the meeting, yeah?” Lena cut in, shaking her head quickly and pushing you towards the car. “We don’t want to be late.¨
Notes:
This story is heavily influenced by all of you, so, make sure to leave your comments or pop by my Tumblr @candiedgears to leave a pm if you want! Love you all and I'll see you in the next chapter!
Chapter Text
Mr. Dagfinn Hetland seemed a rather interesting man, according to his files; nearing his late eighties, he owned a large multi-million-euro business that spanned much of the UK selling highly advanced AI systems and technologies, some of which were currently being used by Overwatch. You spent a good portion of the drive to his manor looking over the case file and finally came to the conclusion that this meeting was going to be nothing more than a recap of Overwatch’s recent developments and how his systems, and money, were being put to good use. All you needed to do was sit there, look pretty, and hand over whatever files, forms, and documents that were asked for. A simple job really, you didn’t understand why neither Jesse nor Lena could do that themselves.
“Come on, Bri, you don’t need to really worry about this case,” Lena groaned, gently taking the holopad from your hands and placing it on the seat next to her. “What you do need to worry about is what you’re going to wear to the Halloween party! It’s not too far off now and you’ve got to come up with some idea!”
You chuckled a bit uncomfortably, tugging at your dress shirt. “O-Oh, n-no, that’s okay. I’ll just go in some simple dress or something. I’m not really one for dressing up, or parties for that matter…”
“Oh no, that ain’t going to fly with me or Mr. Rose,” Jesse said, smiling as he shook his head. “You’ve gotta go as something so Dean can match. There’s going to be a contest for best costumes, and I ain’t seen him lose in a coupl’a years now.”
You flushed a little, looking down at the ground. “Is that so? I was… I was unaware of this, um… I don’t have a clue, really…”
“You said this was going to be a good idea,” he growled in your ear, his hand squeezing yours just a bit too tightly, enough to make you wince.
“I thought it would be,” you whimpered, trying to avoid the laughing gazes of your friends. “Alice thought it was a good idea…”
“You’ve embarrassed me for the last time!” his voice roared through your ears as pain flared in your cheek, salty tears singeing the flesh. “I can’t believe I still put up with you!”
You flinched, unconsciously raising a hand to gently touch your cheek. “I think…” ‘I don’t want to go… what if I embarrass him? But, he asked me… He wants me to go with him… What do I do?’
Lena shared a concerned look with Jesse as a few tears began to fill your eyes. “Hey, hey, look now, luv, there’s no need to get upset over this!” she said softly, moving over to sit next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “It’ll be fine! If you’re so concerned about it, why don’t you let Dean come up with an idea? I’m sure he’ll understand.”
You sniffed, frantically wiping at your eyes as you realised you’d begun crying. “Yeah, sure. I think it’d be best if he came up with an idea. I’m not really the greatest when it comes to creativity…”
The rest of the drive took you down to a wealthier district a few hours away from headquarters, down a long, winding street lined with large mansions and manors, each pristine and elegant in their own way and right. Omnic gardeners and landscapers looked up as you passed, only sparing a second of their attention on you before they turned back to their tasks as you drove past. You could swear you saw a ripple run through them, could practically hear the singular thought of “Visitors? No, not ours,” as you watched them. It irked you that you didn’t see a single human working among them; you were a huge supporter of Omnic rights, had spent plenty of time in protests in both Switzerland and downtown London, had helped out at the shelters near your apartment, even now sending a portion of your pay to the shelters since you could no longer be there as often as you’d like. Seeing all those Omnics out there without a human in sight…
As if sensing your thoughts, your driver, coincidentally also an Omnic, chuckled and looked back at you through the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you worry, Miss Marsh,” he said, his voice friendly in tone. “They’re all paid well and given room and board. They’re hired for their precision and expertise in the matters their jobs entail, and each and every one of them have applied for the job themselves.”
Blushing and embarrassed as you’d just been caught glowering out the window, you turned away from the glass, chuckling under your breath and playing with your hair. “Th-That’s good. I-It’s good to-to see things are changing.”
Lena smiled, gently taking your hand. “That’s right! Briallen, you were really involved with the Omnic Rights movements here in London, weren’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, I was. I actually helped organise the faire last June, though I managed to catch something the day of and wasn’t able to make it.”
McCree’s eyes widened and he looked over at you. “Wait, the faire in June? Ain’t that the one that raised funds to help the homeless?”
“The homeless, the mentally ill, and the hungry, yes,” you corrected, smiling. “Most of the proceeds went to them, while the rest went towards the Omnic Rights cause.”
“They raised nearly a million dollars in a single day!” he said, laughing a bit in astonishment. “It was one of the most successful Omnic fundraisers ever since the crisis! How on Earth are you not braggin’ about that?”
Your smile widened a bit and you shook your head. “Because I didn’t do it for the bragging rights, Jesse.”
The manor you arrived at was elegant and eerie, at least to you. Whether it was the tall white marble walls sporting spirals of crawling ivy, or the inherent darkness of the windows that watched your every move as you made your way down the clean brick pathway to the towering front doors, you couldn’t tell, but it made you incredibly uneasy. The whole building had an aura of heavy despair and doom, creeping its way into your stomach where nausea sprung up and threatened to loose itself all over the pretty front porch. You clutched your portfolio to your chest as you stood behind Lena and Jesse, unconsciously trying to hide behind them as you waited for the door to open.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” you asked, a chill running up your spine. ‘This just doesn’t feel right…’
Jesse frowned, turning and reaching back to gently squeeze your arm. “Are you alright darlin’? You look a little ill.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine. Perhaps a bit of late motion sickness?” You offered an unsure smile, which he returned as he let go of your arm to turn back to the doors.
One of the large redwood doors swung open slowly, the uncanny face of a human-esque Omnic peered out at you from the darkness. “Can I he-he-he-help you?” it asked, its voice contrasting it faint visage of humanity with its tinniness and glitching. Its lips did not move as it spoke.
Lena flinched at the sound, but kept a small, forced smile. Obviously, she’d been here before. “Yes, we’re here to see Mr. Hetland.”
“The ben-n-n-nificiary mee-ee-ee-eeting?” it asked, cocking its head like a curious child. Its large blue eyes blinked slowly, clicking as if moving along a track as it moved between the three of you. The more you looked at the Omnic, the more ill and uneasy you felt. It was in a sickening state of disrepair, with many of the wires giving it life and consciousness showing through broken bits of plastic and china. Parts of its skeleton peeked out from behind bits of melted plastic, or were just altogether exposed, giving the Omnic an unfinished, creepy feel. The uncanniness of the face made you feel queasy, as did its familiarity.
“There are-are-are-are three of y-y-y-you, as dis-cussed-cussed-cussed, but thi-i-i-i-i-is one is not the same.” Slowly, and with the fluidity of chunky, half-dried glue, the Omnic raised a hand and pointed at Lena. “Le-Le-Lena Ox-t-t-t-t-ton,” the finger moved to point at Jesse, “Jesse Mc-Cree-Cree-Cree,” the finger turned to you before lowering - more like dropping - to the Omnic’s side, “but I-I-I do not know-w-w-w this one.”
“Oh,” Lena chuckled softly, glancing over at you, her eyes glittering with nerves. “Yes, we forgot to call ahead to let Mr. Hetland know, our negotiator fell ill so we had to find a last minute replacement. This is Miss Briallen Marsh.”
“Nice to meet you,” you offered, managing a weak smile.
“Bri-all-allen Marsh-sh-sh. Comp-p-p-p-p-piling data.” The Omnic cocked its head, eyes boring into yours as the machinery in its head began whirring loudly. For a few seconds, it just stood there and stared at you, calculating, before it straightened with a nod. “Fo-o-o-ollow me.”
You shuddered, almost feeling violated by the in-depth appraisal, and quietly followed your companions as they stepped through the doorway and into the shaded foyer. The oppressive feeling that you had begun to feel on the doorstep became heavier, pressing down on your shoulders and making you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to fend off the slight fear that threatened to creep over your skin. A squeak nearly ripped itself from your lips when the doors slammed shut.
“Mist-t-t-t-t-ter Hetland-land-land-land will be d-d-d-down in a min-min-minute. Ple-e-e-ease make yourself-elf at home in-in-in-in the lounge,” the Omnic said, tilting its head and gesturing with a chipped and rusted hand toward a room to the left.
You did as you were told, following timidly after your friends and taking a seat next to Jesse on the little couch; Lena took a seat in the armchair beside it. The room was nice, quaint, and fairly Victorian in decor. The walls had a beautiful golden floral damask print with a pretty blue background and walnut open-faced bookshelves lined up against them. Each shelf was filled with many old leather-bound books, each well cared for and lacking any signs of sun damage. In the corner of the room, in an elaborate wrought iron cage sat a sleeping Golden Pheasant, whose feathers shone in the sunlight falling upon it.
“Mr. Hetland seems like a rather wealthy man,” you commented offhandedly, clutching the holopad to your chest.
“Yes, he is. That’s why it’s important this meeting goes well,” Jesse said, reaching over to gently rub your shoulder, sensing your unease. “Relax a bit, there, darlin’. No good in getting all worked up before hand.”
You gave a small smile, hardly able to give a response before the door to the lounge popped open and both Jesse and Lena took to their feet. You followed suit, turning to watch as a rather charming old man came striding into the room, leaning on an elegant cane.
Dagfinn Hetland could have been described as a “silver fox”; for a man in his late eighties, he had a charmingly handsome face with very few wrinkles and a full head of silver hair. His cane seemed to be nothing more than an accessory as he stood tall when he stopped to look at his guests. Brown eyes settled strangely on you and the edge of his lips quirked up in an uncanny smile. Quite like his omnic, Hetland seemed to peer straight into your soul.
“Lena, my dear, how lovely to see you again,” he said, his unwavering gaze sticking to yours for a few seconds before he finally looked away. He stepped forward, holding a hand out, which Lena took a moment to accept, fighting back a grimace when he kissed the top of her hand. “How’s Emily, still doing alright?”
Lena chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Well, I hope she’s doing okay. She and I kind of split a while back.”
Hetland frowned a bit, tucking his cane under his arm to cup her hand in both of his. “I am so sorry to hear that, Lena. You and Emily made such a handsome couple. But, there are always more fish in the sea.”
Still awkward, Lena nodded and gently pulled her hand away, tucking it into her pocket.
Hetland didn’t seem to react too much, instead turned quickly to Jesse with an equally bright smile. “And Jesse, the old cowboy.”
Jesse chuckled, shaking his head as he shook hands with the old man. “Well, I ain’t old yet, I can tell you that. I’ve still got the quickest draw in the west.”
Hetland laughed. “Good, that’s good. I’d hate to see you outdone by some new upstart. And who is this new face? I don’t think I’ve seen her before,” he said, turning to you. His dark eyes bored back into you and the smile he sported gave you the impression that he was lying.
“Bri-Briallen Marsh,” you supplied, holding out a hand. “It-It’s nice to-to-to meet you, sir.”
He quirked an eyebrow, as if he expected a different answer. Like lightning, his hand shot up and gripped yours. Tightly. You watched in uncertainty as the skin of your hand turned white and pain started to blossom in your fingers, though you kept a forced smile. Then, almost as quickly as he had grabbed it, he dropped your hand, seemingly satisfied. “It certainly is a pleasure, my dear. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
A little shaken, you turned to sit back down, settling back into the couch next to Jesse. Your hand throbbed slightly and you clutched it gently in your lap, trying not to look Hetland in the eyes. You didn’t like the look you found in them; cold, calculating, and knowing, a gaze you felt that you knew too well, though you couldn’t pinpoint why.
“Oh, dear, oh that won’t do,” Hetland fretted, shaking his head from his seat. “It appears in my old age I forgot to put a pot on for the tea. Dairile can’t do it all on her own… Would you mind accompanying her, Miss Marsh? You can just leave the holopad there and she will lead you to the kitchen.”
Your head snapped up in shock, a glance towards Jesse told you it was fine. “Oh, uh, n-n-no, not at all s-s-sir. I-I’d be happy to.”
Hetland smiled. “Wonderful, thank you very much.”
Hesitantly, you stood, placing the holopad where you sat and went to follow the Omnic apparently named Dairile. Its joints creaked as it walked and it said nothing, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence as you made your way through the hallways.
The kitchen was clean, enough to look hardly used, which was concerning. Did Hetland eat at all? This was a huge manor, didn’t he have any other family living with him?
“I-I-I will get the ke-ke-kettle boiling,” Dairile said, pulling the old metal kettle out of a cabinet near the oven. “You-You-You get the tea cup-up-up-ups. Top cab-cab-cabinet-et-et.” It pointed toward the cabinet it spoke of and turned to its task.
You fought the shiver that rose up your back from its glitching voice box and pulled the tea set out of the cabinet. It was gorgeous, beautifully ornate porcelain set painted with scenes of spring. Fitting for the level of aristocracy the whole manor seemed to display.
With gentle hands you began placing them on a tea tray that had been sitting on the counter, first the plates, each with their own special bird on them, and then their matching cups. About halfway through, your hands started shaking, making it difficult to place the cups down without making them clink loudly against the plates. You had no idea what brought on this anxiety; the kitchen was quiet, save for the sound of the gas stove and the ticking of a clock that you couldn’t find.
‘I know you.’ A voice whispered in your ear, child-like and wispy.
You jumped, almost dropping one of the cups, and looked around. There was no one there, and the Omnic was still staring at the kettle, its back turned to you. ‘That couldn’t have been the Omnic, the voice sounded nothing like it… Am I just hearing things?’
“The tea is-is-is in the jar. Two-Two-Two tablespoon-oon-oons in each cup,” the Omnic said, confirming your thoughts. Its cracked metal hand pointed at a porcelain jar on your right, also decorated with scenes of spring.
“R-Right,” you answered, picking up the jar and going to take it over to the counter. You poured the allotted amount into each cup as instructed. Something didn’t feel right. Goosebumps ran up your arms and a chill pressed against the back of your neck, making the hair stand on end.
‘I KNOW you,’ the voice repeated, and you froze. ‘I tried to escape… You stopped me, held me down, held me captive…’
There was a clicking sound, soft, almost inaudible, and then a flurry of movement. The jar was knocked from your hands, shattering on the ground and sending loose tea leaves flying everywhere, something grabbed you by the back of your neck and threw you across the kitchen into the white tiled wall which cracked under the force. Pain shot through your body as your head smacked against the floor, but you didn’t have time to let out even a gasp before the Omnic was on you again, hauling you up by the hair and pinning you to the wall by your throat.
Malice burned in those glassy blue eyes and a snarl tore its way across the porcelain face, cracking the thin layer of paint which covered it. Thin metal fingers closed around your neck, slowly cutting off your airway. ‘They killed me because of you!’ the voice screamed, almost laughing as you frantically fought to pry the fingers away from your throat. ‘And now, I’m going to kill you!’
“J-Jess-” you croaked, your voice cut to a thin whisper as the Omnic squeezed your throat.
‘Oh, no, don’t even try to call for help! They won’t hear you!’
“Is everythin’ alright in there?”
You blinked and the scene changed. You were standing, leaning over the counter, trembling with tears streaming down your cheeks, the jar of tea in shards by your feet. Your throat felt raw, as if you’d been screaming, or choked. The Omnic was still standing by the oven, watching you. A flurry of coughs ripped themselves from your chest, bringing you to your knees as oxygen went rushing back to your head.
“Whoa now, pumpkin, take it easy,” Jesse said, swooping in to catch you before you fell. “What happened, what’s wrong? Darlin’ you’re bleeding!”
Shaking, you looked down to see a large gash on your palm that was actively leaking blood. You couldn’t feel the pain. “The-The-The Omnic!” you managed, looking over toward the android. “It-It-It threw me-” you stopped short as your gaze turned towards the wall you had been thrown into; there was no sign of any damage. “N-No, no I’m sure of it!” Frantically, you turned back to Jesse, catching sight of Hetland standing in the doorway behind Lena, watching.
He was grinning from ear to ear.
“Jesse, maybe you should take her home,” Lena suggested, looking worriedly down at you. “I’ll stay and finish the meeting.”
You sobbed, shaking your head. “No, no, it happened! I swear!”
“Alright now, sweetpea, you just take a deep breath, okay? We’re going to get you home to Angela and she’s going to take good care of you,” Jesse murmured, scooping you up and holding you to his chest.
Angela’s clinic smelled of the usual Tekoe tea and camphor, with a slight hint of hospital grade disinfectant, a smell which clung to you for a while after every check up. The lights buzzed softly, illuminating everything underneath them with their fluorescent, unnatural light, bringing you back to your days in the hospital back in Switzerland. You’d spent nearly a year there before the hospital decided that, since you couldn’t pay for anything, you’d have to leave, and kicked you out. Thankfully, you’d mostly recovered by then.
Jesse sat next to you, a hand pressed comfortingly against your back as you leaned against him, cradling your bandaged hand with the other.
“Well, the good news is, your hand will heal,” Angela said, sliding over to you on her rolling stool. “What I’m more worried about is your mental health. Briallen, when was the last time you saw your therapist?”
You frowned and looked away. “I’m not psychotic.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“About four and a half years,” you murmured, refusing to look up at the doctor.
“Scheisse,” Angela sighed, rubbing at her face. “Do you know how dangerous that was, especially after your crash?! So many problems could have manifested-”
“I’m fine, Angela,” you said through gritted teeth, squeezing your uninjured hand in a fist. Jesse rubbed your back.
Angela went quiet for a few moments, her gaze sad. “I’m assigning you a therapist. I want you to see them on a weekly basis, at least, until we get this figured out. Don’t argue with me,” she said, cutting you off before you had the chance to speak against it. “I will let Morrison and Rose know so they can adjust your schedule. Your therapist will contact you later today, it’s best you see them now while the incident is still fresh in your mind.”
You clenched your jaw in frustration, closing your eyes. ‘I don’t need to see a therapist, I KNOW what I saw, and it was real… At least, I think it was...’
“As for your hand, I’ll give you another bioemitter to help with the healing and I want you to stop in tomorrow to change the bandaging. Also,” she turned to you, having begun typing on her computer, no doubt already formulating emails. Cerulean eyes met yours, watching you. “I want you to take at least a week off work. It’ll help with the stress and it’ll be good for you, I promise. Go to lunch with your friends, stay in bed all day, do whatever you need to just take a break.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you sighed.
She looked over at Jesse. “I want you to stay with her for a while, make sure she’s okay.”
“Yes’m,” he replied, rubbing your back again. “I’ll take good care of her, promise.”
Angela sat with a hand tangled in her bangs, a still steaming cup of tea sitting beside her. Ana’s office, full of comfortable armchairs and constantly smelling like a mixture of myrrh and cinnamon, was a comfort to the stressed medic. She had often come there back in the old days of Overwatch, sometimes seeking council from the older woman, other times just needing a friend to talk to and a cup of tea to calm her nerves. Ana had always been a very motherly figure to everyone on base, always willing to offer advice or just a shoulder to cry on. Today, however, there was no advice to be given, no tears being shed; the tone of the room was somber, tense, and Jack’s anxious pacing was not helping.
“Jack, would you please sit down?” the old woman asked, apparently as fed up with the constant movement as Angela was. “Stressing out over this is not going to help anyone, let alone Miss Marsh.”
“She’s right, you know,” Angela sighed, shifting to rest her chin on her hand as she reached to take a sip of her tea. “Maybe we need to tell her, Jack. She’s going to find out sooner or later. Especially when it comes to her rate of healing. Jesse told me he saw the bruises on her neck disappear before his very eyes.”
Jack shook his head, falling back into an armchair across from the medic, foot tapping out a nervous rythym on the floor. “She’s not going to find out anything. I’ve already told her to drop the Morgan files she was looking into.”
“Told or commanded?” Ana asked, stirring her tea.
“Whether it was an order or a request doesn’t matter, we all know her well enough to know she’s not going to give up that easily,” Angela cut in before he could answer, rubbing her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on.
The room went quiet, the air filled only with the sound of a ticking clock and Ana’s cat purring softly. The quiet would have almost been calming if it weren’t for the subject at hand. It would have stayed quiet for longer but Angela had too many thoughts on her mind.
“Jack, we’ve both known her for quite some time, but you’ve known her far longer, ever since she was a child. Did-” she didn’t even get a chance to ask her question before the old soldier shook his head and interrupted her with a question of his own.
“You said she had relived a memory?”
Angela sighed. “Not necessarily. She connected with an omnic and saw its thoughts. It recognised her, told her that she had stopped its escape. I think… We are aware of Mr. Hetland’s involvement with Aderyn-”
“Are you trying to suggest that Aderyn was experimenting with more than just genetics?” Ana asked, eyes wide as she leaned forward.
“Not Aderyn herself, no, but her colleagues, perhaps. They weren’t exactly morally, legally, or ethically in the right. It is probable that they were playing around with something far more dangerous than just genetics.”
Jack shook his head again. “It can’t be possible…”
“Think about it, Jack, how else would Briallen be here, and so young at that? It’s the only thing that makes sense!”
“Angela does have a point, Jack,” Ana pointed out, drawing her lips together. “Briallen should easily be ten years younger than myself, but she appears to be no more than twenty-six. There’s no doubt in my mind that Aderyn’s done more to that poor girl than we may ever know.”
Angela watched the old soldier, her eyes soft with understanding. She knew how much he blamed himself for Briallen’s past, for everything she went through, for not being able to keep Aderyn from going down the path she did. “Jack, if you just let me, I can figure out how to reactivate the genetic code and we can make up for what Aderyn did by teaching her to fight for good. We-”
“No! We’re not going to do anything!” Jack barked, frowning over at her. “We’re going to let Briallen be. We’re going to let her lead as normal a life as she can under Overwatch. It’s what I owe her, it’s what she deserves. What is the point in telling her everything if she’s not going to change?”
“But what if she does?” Angela asked, her brows furrowed in concern. “What if she changes back on her own?”
“She won’t.” Jack’s words were firm, surprising in their assuredness, as if he knew exactly what would happen with the young woman he felt responsible for. He knew nothing, however, knew even less about her current state than Angela did.
Neither of the women in the office spoke up as Jack stood, his presence commanding and filling the room as he looked between them before turning and leaving.
Ana’s cat had stopped purring and the air tasted bitter in the wake of the conversation, leaving Angela feeling shaken, drained, and disappointed. She had hoped Jack would support her idea, support bringing the old Briallen back.
“You have to understand, Angela,” Ana sighed, shaking her head and setting down her teacup, “that what Jack wants for Briallen isn’t a life filled with war and combat. I was the same way with Fareeha, you know. We, all three of us, know what it’s like to lose friends in combat, what it’s like to live in a constant state of war. Is that really the life you want Briallen to lead?”
“No, I suppose not,” Angela admitted, rubbing at her temple; her headache had arrived. “But I don’t see the point in not telling her about her past…”
“Sometimes we have to let the past go in order to move on to the future.”
“You don’t have to take care of me, Jesse, I’m not a child,” you said, rubbing your face as you watched McCree open the tiny fridge in your kitchenette and pull out a bottle of water.
“That may be, but I’ve been given orders from Angela,” he chuckled, coming back to sit beside you on the couch, opening the bottle before holding out the water to you, “and no one wants to get on Angela’s bad side.”
“I guess that’s true.” You took a small sip from the offered bottle and set it down on the coffee table, closing your eyes. ‘I know what I saw… I’m not crazy, I’m not!’ “Whoa, hey!” Your eyes flew open as Jesse picked you up, shifting you to sit on his lap while he wrapped his arms around you.
“I know you ain’t crazy, pumpkin,” he murmured, setting his chin on the top of your head. “I know you think you don’t need to see this therapist, that Angela’s just bein’ a bit crazy. But, believe it or not, every one of us needs someone to talk to. Hell, I gotta therapist, and-”
You laughed a bit, shaking your head. “I know how important a therapist is, Jesse. My therapist after the crash helped me come to terms with myself and what happened I just… I know what I saw, Jesse, I felt the pain, hell my head is killing me right now.” You took a shuddering breath, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “I- that Omnic tried to kill me… I felt the fingers wrapping around my throat, I felt the fire in my lungs, I felt my consciousness fading.”
“Oh, baby,” he sighed, gently taking your hands into his, thumb rubbing against the back of your uninjured hand. “I can’t really say anythin’ other than I believe you.”
“Don’t lie to me, McCree.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue, shocking the both of you into silence. ‘That… That didn’t sound like me…’ “I-I-I’m sorry, I-”
Jesse shook his head a bit, letting out a soft sigh. “Don’t apologise, you ain’t got nothing to apologise for. Let’s just talk about something else, shall we?”
You looked down at your hands, marveling at how much larger his were than yours. Naturally, you turned your hand over and caressed the metal of his fingers, curious. “Can you feel anything?”
“Hmm? Oh, you mean in my hand?” He chuckled, flexing his fingers against yours. “In a sense, I suppose. I can feel the pressure of your hand on mine, but I can’t feel any warmth from it. Which is a blessing and a curse. I mean, I can pull food out of the oven without using an oven mit now.”
You let out a sniffly giggle, your skin tingling as the metal of his hand began to warm. “And how is it a curse?”
His voice was soft as he responded. “Well… I quite like being able to feel that warmth. Reminds me that I’m still human.”
You dissolved into meaningless conversation, just enjoying having the company for a while. While you loved hanging out with Lena and Hana and the others, Jesse was a different kind of companion; a lot softer and calmer than you would have expected from the cowboy. In fact, he seemed almost melancholy, especially as he brought up Dean.
“So, you and Dean really going to the party together?” he asked, looking down at you as you took a drink from the bottle of water, his smile drooping a bit when you nodded, despite how hard he tried to hide it. “That’s gotta be exciting. I bet you two will make a dashing couple.”
You furrowed your brows at his tone of voice and opened your mouth to ask what was wrong when your phone started going off. Frowning, you glared at the offending device. “I’m not answering that.”
Jesse laughed. “Come on, sugarpie, you gotta answer it. It’s most likely your therapist, and you heard Angela, best to get this out of your head while it’s fresh.”
“I don’t want to answer it though…”
“If you don’t answer it, I’ll do it for you,” he warned, giving you a devilish grin.
You raised an eyebrow, refusing to move.
“Alright, you asked for it.” He reached forward with a grunt, not wanting to knock you off his lap as he leaned to grab your phone and press it to his ear. “Dave’s Sperm Bank, you spank it, we bank it, how can I-”
“OH MY GOD! Jesse, no! Give it to me!” You cried, fighting back laughter as you wrestled the phone from his hands.
He released it with a teasing grin, letting you slip away to have a proper conversation.
“I am so sorry about that, Jesse had my phone. This is Briallen Marsh, how can I help you?” you said, desperately trying to amend for Jesse’s antics.
“Hi, Briallen, I’m Dr. Penn, the therapist Angela was talking about. She mentioned she wanted you to come see me before the end of the day. What time is best for you?”
As soon as the young Brit left the manor, Dagfinn leapt up and hurried to his office. He tore into his cabinets, tossing papers left and right until he found the file he was looking for. “Let’s see, let’s see… brown hair, check… brown eyes, check… I’d recoginse that cheekbone structure anywhere, they’ve got Aderyn’s name written all over them… Height checks out… Ah, here it is. Living metal arm, right side.” His grin nearly split his face in two as he looked down at the image of the young woman he’d met earlier. “Oh, how the years have done thee well, child,” he murmured, shaking his head at the more menacing countenance that glared up at him from behind its glossy, card stock prison.
With a speed previously unknown to men his age, he sprinted over to his computer, where he brought up a call. Within moments, the face of a tired, angry older woman popped up before him.
“What is it, Hetland, this better be important. Have you any idea what you are interrupting?” she asked with a scowl.
He dipped his head in apology. “My apologies, Dr. Morgan, but I have some news I’d thought I’d share with you. I’m sure it will brighten your mood considerably.”
Notes:
I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I've been having a lot of personal issues, but I think I'm finally finding myself again. Hopefully I don't leave for too long for the next chapter!
Chapter 8: Honey-Tongued
Chapter Text
‘ She looks so… different when she sleeps, more peaceful, I s’pose,’ Jesse thought, looking down at the woman laying beside him on the bed. He had carried Briallen in. She had tried to claim that he didn’t need to, that she was fine.
But he could tell otherwise.
When she came back from the therapist she was trembling, avoiding eye contact, and scratching at her neck where he had seen the bruises fade. Her stutter had gotten worse, to the point where he had trouble understanding some of what she said, and she teared up more than once. Eventually, he just wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, scooped her up, and took her to bed, letting her cling to him on the way there. She tried to tell him that he didn’t have to do this, but the way she clutched at his shirt said otherwise; she was scared, and he’d burn in hell before he left her alone like this. This was not the natural kind of fear, but a kind manufactured in her subconscious. Whatever had happened to her in that kitchen cut her deeper than it had seemed.
Now, though, the fear seemed to ebb away, leaving her relaxed and at peace.
‘ I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this content before,’ he mused, gently running his fingers through her hair. It was softer than he expected, falling back to reveal a small scar right below her ear. ‘ Wonder where she got that .’
A smile grew on her face as she shifted, attempting to bury herself in his chest. It was adorable and knowing that he made her feel safe enough to seek him out in her sleep was touching. It also reminded him of Hanzo once he got a bit of liquor in him. Cuddly as a cat, one could say.
‘ Shit, I forgot to let Hanzo know everything went okay!’ Gritting his teeth, he gently pulled away from Briallen, trying not to disturb her when he knew she needed this sleep to reset. ‘ Hanzo’s gonna be pissed! He hates it when I don’t call after a mission, even a small one like today’s… ’ Successfully out of the bed without having disturbed the still-sleeping Briallen, he grabbed his phone and hurried into the living room, closing the door behind him.
“Hey, Hannybear, how’s it going?” he asked, laying on the sweetness a little thick to avoid getting yelled at. It didn’t work.
Hanzo’s voice was as stern and tense as Jesse had expected it to be when he interjected. There was no getting around this one. “You usually call right after a mission, is everything okay?”
Jesse sighed, rubbing at his face. “Yeah, everything’s fine… now . Briallen… had some kind of a run in with Hetland’s Omnic. I don’t know exactly what happened, all I know is that one moment the meeting was going as normal, and the next, there was a crash and a scream from the kitchen. When I came running in, she looked as if she was going to faint and there were finger-like bruises on her neck. She- She claimed the Omnic had thrown her against the wall, but it looked to me like she hadn’t moved an inch since she dropped the tea jar…”
There was a pause. “And how did she fare?”
Jesse frowned a bit. “She’s… fine now. She visited her therapist and came back about a half an hour ago all shaken up again. I hope it’s just from havin’ to relive the whole thing.”
“That is good.” Hanzo’s voice bordered disinterest, but there was something else there, something coated with a venom.
“Okay, what’s got your panties in a twist, Han?” Jesse asked with a sigh, rubbing his face. “I can hear that tone of yours and it ain’t friendly.”
“I dislike how much time you have spent with her recently. It feels like you are trying to replace me.”
‘ He always has been the jealous type… ’ “And what makes you think I would go and do a stupid thing like that?”
“I do not know, you tell me, Jesse,” Hanzo’s words came back cold, almost angry.
‘ Oh shit, what did I forget… It wasn’t his birthday, 4/20 is easy enough to remember, and I’ve got calendar notifications on my phone so I don’t forget our anniversary… ’ He cringed. “Ah, shoot, I forgot about our dinner today, didn’t I?”
“Should I even dignify that with a response?” came the hissing retort Jesse had been waiting for.
“Listen, Hannybear, I am so sorry, I promise I had planned on meeting you there today, it’s just that so many things happened today and I-”
“Save your breath, Jesse,” Hanzo sighed, the shake of his head audible through the phone’s speaker. “Just make sure you come back at some point.” And with that, and a soft click, the conversation was over, leaving Jesse dumbfounded in the middle of the living room.
“Boyfriend problems?”
Jesse jumped and turned to see Briallen standing in the doorway, looking over with the duvet cover around her shoulders and a sympathetic smile on her lips. He returned it with a half-hearted one of his own. “Yeah, I kinda messed up today, forgot about some plans we’d had for a while now… But, that’s my own fault and I will deal with the consequences when they come. What matters right now is you, are you doin’ okay, darlin’?”
Her eyes softened and he could have sworn he did too, though he tried to hide it. ‘ If Hanzo would take the time to get to know you I know he’d take a shine to you just like I have… ’ Hanzo really hadn’t taken a liking to Briallen, or even the concept of her presence since he’d learned of it, but that really wasn’t a surprise. He was slow to trust, especially when it came to intimate details about himself, of which she would learn plenty doing what she did.
“I’m doing a bit better, though I’m still a bit shaken up, but is e a th ‘ann,” she said with a shrug and a thin smile which did very little to hide her discomfort, gesturing in the air with her wounded hand.
‘ Gaelic, ’ thought Jesse, watching her gaze drop to the ground and her teeth catch the meat of her lip so she could chew on it while she thought. ‘ I didn’t know she spoke it… ’ He let out a soft sigh, moving closer so he could gently tug the lip out from her teeth with his thumb. “What are you thinking about, darlin’?”
She looked back up at him, honey brown eyes clouded with confusion and worry. “Jesse, if I… can I show you something without,” she hesitated, looking away again to work something out in her head. After a few seconds, she shook her head, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes. “Can I show you something important? You have to promise not to tell the Commander.”
His eyes widened. ‘ Not tell Jack? What- Is she hiding something? ’ “I don’t know, Bri, I-” but the look she gave him cut his words right off. She looked so desperate and so earnest… “Uh, I mean, s-sure, go ahead.” ‘ Damn. She melts me like a pat of butter on a pancake… ’
“Whoah,” Jesse breathed, looking over the folders and notes she was spreading out over the coffee table. There were nearly enough manilla folders stacked together to make a fort, and it looked like each paper contained within was carefully documented, highlighted, and labelled; she had clearly spent plenty of time organising this information. She was dedicated. “That’s… that’s a lot.”
“Mmn,” she hummed, nodding as she went to stand beside him, fingers playing with a strand of her hair. “It took me weeks to compile all of this, but I know that there’s more info in the database. Winston’s just too good with his tech and I can’t get Athena to let me see any more than this. There aren’t any hard copy files in the records room down on floor fifteen, but there’s a gap where they should be, almost like the files were removed and never put back.”
He furrowed his brows, picking up the folder she handed to him, the one that started it all, and read through it. ‘ Morrigan? Why does that name sound familiar? ’ “But that don’t make a lick of sense. You’re Winston’s assistant, ain’t ya? Wouldn’t that mean you’ve automatically got a higher authorisation level than most of us? I mean, you are the one cross referencin’ the agent files, right? Can’t you just ask Winston to let you read them?”
She shook her head, chewing on her lip again. It seemed to be a developing habit. “It’s not that simple, Jesse. The files I’m missing require an authorisation level of five. What’s your current level?”
“Four, I believe.”
She nodded. “So’s mine. So’s Lena’s, and Lucio’s, and Hana’s, and pretty much everyone else. You all have a higher authorisation level than anyone else, especially Dean. All of you except Jack, Angela, Anna, and Winston. They all have level five, the highest I’ve been able to find, which means they can see everything. These files, the ones I’ve been trying to access and the ones that will give me most of the information I need, they’re under the tightest lock and key, restricted to only the most senior Overwatch members, and most likely on a need-to-know basis. The fact that I came across that first one was probably just a fluke, some dolt putting a file away in the wrong place…” Her hands came up and she rubbed at her face, shaking her head. “Anyway, Jack already told me to drop it, but, I mean, just read the files! I can’t, in good conscience, just drop these files and forget about it! It doesn’t look like anything was actually wrapped up!” Her voice had risen in volume enough that her cat let out a soft chirp of concern, looking up at her.
Jesse raised an eyebrow at her before looking back down at the files, shifting through them and scratching his cheek. “I hear ya.. What these files are suggesting… We could have a whole ‘nother big baddie on our hands. Sure, the lab was destroyed, but it looks like most of these scientists weren’t incarcerated, especially this Dr. Morgan and her pet Black Wasp…” ‘ Black Wasp… why does that name sound so familiar? Why does this all sound so familiar? ’ “Do you know if Morrigan’s been found yet?”
She shook her head again, exasperated. “No, I don’t. The last mentioned sighting of Black Wasp was about six years ago when she was identified via the CCTV cameras of an airport in Switzerland…. After that it-” her voice, having gradually slowed and softened, cut out altogether with a weak sob.
Turning, Jesse was surprised to find her eyes welling up with tears. “Woah, woah, woah, hey now,” he said, dropping the files to pull her into a hug. “What’s going on, what’s got you teary eyed, sweet pea?”
She shuddered, another weak sob running through her as she struggled to push herself away. “No, Jesse, don’t! Please,” she whimpered, backing away in horror as he loosened his grip. Her eyes were wide with fear, her entire body trembling. “Jesse, I woke up five years ago in a coma… that-the hospital I was in was only a few miles from that airport.” Tears dripped quietly down her cheeks as she hugged herself. “Jesse, what if… what if I’m Morrigan?”
Jesse opened his mouth to speak, to dispute that ridiculous point, but the door slid open and a body came hurrying quickly into the room. It was Dean Rose, his face contorted with worry as he hurried up to Briallen, gently grabbing her arms by the elbow.
“Briallen! Are you alright, love?” he asked, reaching up to push away her bangs as he looked into her eyes. “I only just heard what happened and came as soon as I could.”
At the way she looked up at Dean, all wide-eyed and open, Jesse felt a spark of… what was that, jealousy? No, it couldn’t have been. He couldn’t be jealous, he had Hanzo, he had nothing to be jealous of. Nevertheless, Briallen had expressed a very clear desire to not be touched, and she seemed on the verge of yanking herself away from Dean. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she wasn’t about to stand up for herself, so Jesse would have to do it for her.
“Hey pal, Bri’s not really in the mood to be touched right now, maybe you should take a few steps back,” he said, reaching out to gently lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder.
Dean yanked it away, glaring up at him. “I think if Briallen wasn’t in the mood to be touched, she’d let me know,” he said, almost tightening his grip on her arms, pulling her closer. “If anyone should take a few steps back, it’s you.”
Jesse looked to Briallen, urging her to stand up for herself, but she just looked away and let herself be pulled into Dean’s chest. “It’s…. It’s fine, Jesse,” she murmured, not at all sounding like she actually believed herself, but meek and surrendering.
Dean’s glare didn’t fade as Jesse took a step back, almost looking him up and down in a challenge. “What are you doing here anyway, McCree? Isn’t it a bit inappropriate to be alone with another man’s girlfriend?”
Briallen’s eyes jumped open in shock, as if this was news to her, but she didn’t argue the point, which made Jesse frown.
“Dr. Zeigler asked me to keep an eye on her after her accident,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He stood a few inches taller than Dean and certainly had a bit more muscle on him, but made no move to intimidate. If Briallen wasn’t going to object to being held so closely after explicitly asking to not be touched, he wasn’t going to argue. Maybe she felt more comfortable in Dean’s arms than in his. Again, that twinge of envy twitched in his chest, making his frown deepen.
“It’s okay, Dean,” Briallen murmured, pushing herself away from his chest enough to look up at him, but not enough to break his embrace. “He’s just a friend, don’t worry.”
“Still, I think he should leave,” Dean responded, not taking his gaze off the cowboy.
She seemed to hesitate, looking between them before looking away and down at the floor. “Maybe… Maybe you should leave, Jesse. I’ll-I’ll see you later.”
“Are you sure, darlin’?” he asked, cringing as the endearment slipped out, making Dean’s glare sharpen.
“Yes.”
“Alright, then. Just let me know if anythin’ happens, okay? Don’t forget to call Dr. Penn as well,” he said, his frown softening in disappointment. ‘ One day… hopefully one day she’ll stand up for herself… ’ With a bow of his head, he turned and stepped out of the apartment, attempting to bury the little green monster that was rising in him. ‘ Stop it, Jesse. She ain’t yours and you’ve got Hanzo…. I just hope she’s happy… ’
Almost as soon as Jesse had left, Dean had turned to you, his expressions dancing between concern and irritation. “What was that all about, love?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek, his hand warm and large against your face.
“I don’t know…” you murmured, closing your eyes and surrendering yourself to the touch. It had been forever since someone had touched you like this, and you revelled in the feeling. “Jesse really was just trying to look out for me, Dean…”
He frowned a bit, tilting your head to the side to make you look at him. “Still, I don’t want you hanging around him by yourself. I’ve heard stories about McCree, and I really don’t want you to end up being one of them, ok?”
You furrowed your brow, looking up at him in confusion. “Stories? What are you talking about?”
He looked away, seeming to waffle between his options before he sighed and pulled away, leaving you feeling cold from the shock of how quickly he did so. You wanted to run after him like a puppy as he walked to the couch, but only just managed to hold yourself back and followed at a reasonable pace. You wanted to be wrapped up in that warm embrace again, the one you hadn’t felt in years.
“Do you have anything to drink?” he asked, his eyes scanning the files you had splayed out on the table.
“Uhm, I mean, I’ve got some water,” you said, your anxiety starting to build. ‘ What kind of stories has he heard about Jesse? ’ “Would you… like some?”
He smiled, a charming glint of teeth that gave you a sense of whiplash. “Yes, please, if you wouldn’t mind. I am a little parched from running down here.”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around your chest as you walked to the kitchenette to grab a glass. “Speaking of which, how did you get down here? I thought this floor was restricted access to the heroes and me only. Here.”
His smile widened a bit as he took the glass from you and proceeded to down nearly half of it in one gulp. “It is. I convinced the Commander to give me special access after we heard what happened. We were both very worried about you, you know?”
“No, I didn’t. But… I’m glad you were.” You watched him for a couple seconds, waiting for him to continue with the subject from a few moments ago, but it was clear he wasn’t going to without being prompted. “So, um, about those stories concerning Jesse…”
Dean frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose in a sigh. “I really didn’t want to tell you about them, Bri. I know he’s your friend and I didn’t want to ruin your image of him… But, if you insist.” He looked up at you, his eyes serious and angry, at what you couldn’t tell. “Jesse McCree is a womaniser and a pervert. He will do everything within his power to get close to you, to make you think you’re his friend, hell, maybe even love him, and then he’ll use you, and once he’s done doing that, he’ll drop you like a stone and never speak to you again. It’s happened to plenty of women on this base, a few of my friends included.”
Your heart twisted in your chest and confusion wracked your brain. “No, that can’t be true. Jesse is a sweetheart, he-”
“That’s exactly how he gets you, babe,” Dean interjected, standing up and taking your hands into his, caressing one of your cheeks again. “See? He’s already starting to get under your skin. You’re lucky I came and warned you in time or you might have had your heart broken.”
A few tears welled up in your eyes. ‘ Could Jesse have been using me? He was getting awfully close today... ‘ “Are they… are they really true? Is he really a bad guy?”
Dean clicked his tongue and ran his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away a tear. “Oh, baby. He’s not a bad guy necessarily, he just does some bad things. I want you to be careful around him from now on, ok? Try your hardest not to be alone in a room with him. I don’t want you to get hurt. Ok? Promise me that you’ll try?”
You nodded, nuzzling into the touch. “I promise.”
He smiled, that brilliant grin that always made your heart skip a beat. “That’s my girl.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into an embrace. “That’s my good girl.”
Angela was sitting back and reading a book, relaxing with a cup of tea in her apartment when Jesse came knocking. She was almost tempted to send him away, to tell him to come back later, and she almost did, but the urgency with which he spoke, and the mention of Briallen’s name, bade her not to. She was quick to answer the door after that.
“Doc, we really need to talk,” he said, stepping into the apartment after she opened the door. “And I want you to tell me the truth, no lyin'.”
She frowned, confused. “Jesse, when and why would I ever lie to you? What’s going on? Is Briallen okay?”
“She’s fine, for now. She’s got Rose.” He rubbed angrily at his face, as if that fact upset him.
“Well that’s good,” she said, turning to get him a cup of tea. “I’m glad to hear they’re getting along well! He is her instructor after all. Didn’t I hear something about them going to the Halloween party together? Oh! Are you and Hanzo finally going to go together this year?”
Jesse turned a frustrated glare her way, shutting her up quickly.
“Ah, yes, not the point of the conversation. What’s going on, Jesse? What’s bothering you?” she asked, handing him the cup and settling down on her couch.
Jesse took the cup almost hesitantly, but sat down anyway, cradling the warm porcelain in his hands. “Who is Briallen?”
Chapter 9: The Truth Stings
Notes:
I think this is the fastest I've gotten a chapter out in almost a year! Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Do you remember what I taught you, mo ghràidh ?” the voice whispered, soothing. Fingers brushed through the girl’s hair as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Angry. Angry eyes, angry lips, an angry soul.
“Don’t trust anyone but you, Máthair ,” the little girl responded, brown eyes twinkling dangerously.
The woman laughed softly, and she dipped down to press a kiss to the top of the girl’s head, her face obscured by a waterfall of black hair. “That’s right, mo phrìseil . Everyone out there is your enemy. Especially those who bear the brand of Overwatch. You’d do well to remember that.”
The girl nodded, clenching the rabbit doll in her fist so tightly that the fabric under her nails began to rip. “Yes, mam.”
A splitting headache was what awoke you, sending you hissing back into reality. The dream lingered, clinging to you like an undesirable scent and clouding your mind. ‘ Who was that woman? Why does it feel like I know her? ... Nevermind that, where am I? ’ You blinked in the artificial sunlight streaming through the window, taking in your surroundings as quickly as the pain in your head would allow you to. Potted plants lined the shelves, many of which bore beautiful, fragrant flowers that seemed to glow in the artificial sunlight, some were being used as bookends, sheltering ancient plays and poems in their leafy embrace. The walls sported a pretty cream colour and a few framed pictures of flowers as well as a handful of pressed leaves encased lovingly behind the glass. On the dresser beside you was a picture of a kitten with a little stub of a tail all tangled up in streamers. You smiled. This room that gave off so much warmth and comfort was yours, but the arm draped over your waist wasn’t.
There was an unfamiliar warmth pressed against your back and the gentle breath of sleep occasionally brushing against your bare shoulder. You tensed, mind racing and trying to remember everything that had happened the night before, fearing you knew the person behind you.
‘ There’s no possible way!’ you tried to tell yourself, squeezing your eyes closed and clenching a fist around the blanket pulled up over the two of you, almost as a guard to your nude form. ‘ You’re in headquarters, Jeremy is not part of Overwatch, therefore there’s no possible way he could make his way in here and into your bed. Even if there was, you wouldn’t let him into your bed to take you again. You’re safe, you’re fine, calm down! ’ Steeling yourself, you attempted to slide out from underneath the arm and off the bed, but the shifting movement worked against you and shook your partner awake.
Dean grunted softly, stretching his arms a little before pulling you back flush against his chest with a chuckle. “Well, good morning sunshine,” he murmured. He slid aside your hair to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his other hand resting on your stomach, sending a shiver down your spine. “Did you sleep well?”
At the sound of his voice a wave of relief rippled through you and you relaxed back into the embrace with a smile and a sigh. Reaching up, you let your fingers tangle in his hair. “As well as I normally do, I guess. I had a strange dream, I can’t quite call it a nightmare, though it did bother me…”
“Really?” he asked, yawning a bit into your skin before pressing a few quick kisses to it, his slight stubble brushing against the sensitive spot.
You couldn’t help but giggle and squirm at the feeling, your fingers falling from his hair to attempt to cover the skin there. The movement made him groan sadly, but he conceded and pressed a kiss to your fingers instead, an apology. “Yeah. I was this little girl… to be frank she looked a lot like me, or what I would assume I’d look like as a child… and there was this woman whispering things to me in Gaelic, telling me not to trust anyone but her… I wonder what it could mean.”
“Mmn,” he hummed, drumming his fingers against your exposed stomach. “Do you think it could have been a memory? Something returning from your amnesia?”
“Possibly,” you sighed, turning onto your back to look up at the ceiling. “But I can’t be sure. God,” you hissed at the pain that shot through you, bringing a hand up to your head and sitting up. “Fucking headaches. I’ll be right back, just gotta go grab some aspirin.”
He sat up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you seated. “No, I’ll get it. Where do you keep it?”
Turning, you smiled over at him, a little bit shocked. “Uh, the cabinet just to your right when you walk in. Are you sure? I can totally stand on my own and go get it myself…”
He chuckled a bit, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “Nah, I’ll get it, you just wait here.”
Your smile widened a bit when you looked down at your hands, listening to him walk off to the bathroom. It’d been a long time since you’d woken up with someone like that, and, though those memories were no longer fond, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief and comfort in it. For a few moments, you could actually forget about all the things that plagued your mind about yourself and just relish in the feeling of being loved, and last night had definitely granted you more than just a few moments. You could remember it now that you had really woken up. Dean had warned you about Jesse, something you were still a little unsure of, and then suggested that he go out and grab some “actual drinks” as he had called them. Apparently you were still shaking and a nervous wreck, according to him, and a few drinks might do you some good. You’d refused to leave your apartment, of course, Dr. Penn had suggested you stayed in for the night, so Dean went out and grabbed an eight pack. From then on it was a lot more fuzzy, which you expected; you were a lightweight after all.
Sighing contentedly, you picked up your phone to check for any messages and found at least three missed calls from Lena, which you should have expected as you didn’t get to see her after the accident and she was bound to be worried about you. ‘ I should probably call her, ’ you thought, dialing in her number. ‘ It is almost noon… ’ Almost as soon as you heard the first ring, Lena answered, sounding concerned.
“Briallen! Are you alright?? Is everything okay???” she asked, nearly shouting in your ear. “Did Dean hurt you? Do you need help??”
You scrunched your nose, confused. “What?” you asked with a soft, anxious chuckle. “Why would Dean hurt me? I’m fine, are you okay?”
Lena laughed a little nervously. “I just- Jesse said there was a little altercation in your apartment involving Dean and that he couldn’t do anything to help. I just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to you.”
The sincerity in her voice made you soften. “No, Lena, I’m fine. And… I don’t know what to call it, but it wasn’t an altercation, Dean was just worried about me is all. Everything’s fine.”
“Good,” you could almost hear the sigh of relief. “How’s your hand? Doing okay?”
“My what?”
“Your hand. You know, the one you cut open with the tea jar at the meeting?” she prompted, sounding a little exasperated.
“Oh! Yeah, uh,” you looked down at your hand, flexing it. There wasn’t any pain. Your brows furrowed. “Uh, give me a sec. I forgot to replace the bandage…” You tucked the phone between your ear and your shoulder and gently unwound the bandage from your hand to reveal… nothing. There was absolutely nothing wrong with your hand, no broken tissue, no bruising, no scarring, nothing. It looked exactly as it had before the incident happened. “Dè fo Shealbh,” you murmured, turning your hand this way and that to examine it and finding absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
“What was that?”
“Uhhhh, nothing. It’s fine! The bioemitters are working wonders! I can hardly feel it,” you said, not exactly lying, but not telling the truth either. You knew the speed at which the bioemitters worked, and they were most definitely not responsible for this. Hearing the bedroom door open, you waved Dean over. “Look, Lena, I’m gonna have to go. I’ll call you later, alright?”
“What? So quickly?” she asked, disappointed.
“Yeah, I know,” you turned to look over at Dean, only to find yourself at almost level height with his unclothed crotch. “I promise I’ll cock- TALK to you later. Bye!” You could feel your entire face burning a bright vermillion as you hung up the phone and immediately turned away, making him laugh. “S-S-Sorry, I just-just-just wasn’t expecting, well, uhm, you know... THAT,” you tried to explain, gesturing wildly with your hands as you focused your gaze onto the carpet. ‘ That’s a nice carpet, pretty blue… God, it’s right next to me… ’
Dean shook his head with a smile, grabbed one of your flailing wrists and placed the aspirin into your palm. “You are absolutely adorable when you’re flustered,” he remarked, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head as he set the cup of water down on the bedside table before going to find his clothes.
‘Okay, so, I’m naked, he’s naked, there was alcohol involved… oh, ’ you groaned, grabbing the cup and downing the pills and the water in one fluid motion. ‘ We definitely had sex last night… how much did I drink?... ’ If you could have turned a brighter red, in that moment, you would have. You set the cup down and bent over, holding your head between your hands with your elbows on your knees. ‘ We haven’t even gone on a date yet… And-and-and he said that thing about me being his girlfriend last night… It’s only been a day or two since he asked me to come to the party with him… God this is moving way too fast… But how do I tell him? What if he takes it the wrong way? I don’t want to scare him off forever! ’
“Briallen? Hello? Earth to Miss Marsh!” Dean sang, waving his hand in front of your face a bit. “I’m not really used to this kind of reaction…”
You jumped, meeting his eyes, which were glued to yours, an amusement shining in them. He was crouched down in front of you, now fully dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that hugged his features marvelously, which meant you could look at him without feeling much shame. “Huh? Oh, I, um, I was just thinking, I dunno…” ‘ If I don’t say anything now, things will definitely be going way too fast later!’ “Uhm-”
“It was a little fast, huh?” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that, I usually try holding off for a couple dates, but last night… we both got kind of drunk and, well…” He looked away for a few seconds, then clicked his tongue. “You know what, why don’t I take you for a date right now? I know of this great little garden in headquarters we can go have a picnic in, then we can go right down to Eugene to get you fitted for your costume for the party,” he offered with that brilliant smile of his. “What do you think?”
You thought for a second, biting the meat of your lip and looking down at the floor. Then, with a smile, you looked up and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Yeah?” he confirmed, taking your hands into his to pull you up to standing, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then, I’ll let you get dressed while I go get the food and everything ready.”
The greenhouse was, subjectively, the most beautiful place in the headquarters, according to Zenyatta; filled with so many varieties of trees, bushes, and flowers, as well as many different kinds of pollinators, it was almost its own ecosystem. The fact that the plants and their pollinators could survive for as long as they did this far underground fascinated not only him, but quite a few others on base, so he and his student weren’t always alone for meditations. In fact, he actively encouraged others to join if they felt compelled to do so. It was always interesting to see who showed up, which people returned more often than others, and which ones took it way too seriously. It must have been fate that day that no one showed up and the girl walked in only a few minutes after he’d settled in.
All at once, his mind was bombarded with thoughts that weren’t his own, which startled him. It had been a long time since another Omnic had sought to communicate in this way, and to be doing so in such a crude fashion, they must have been new at it. Thankfully, once he had found the right frequency, he was able to quieten those thoughts enough to work through them to find their source. Imagine his surprise to find not another Omnic at the other end of the tether, but a young woman.
“Something has distracted you, Master,” Genji said, drawing Zenyatta’s attention back to himself.
He hummed. “Yes, there is one here of Omnic mind who does not possess an Omnic body.”
“What? How is that possible?” The shock and surprise in Genji’s voice was amusing to the monk, and so, he chuckled.
“Life takes on many forms, my pupil. You and I alone are prime examples of that notion.” He went quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “I will admit, she is a very interesting case.”
“An Omnic mind but a human body,” Genji mused, drumming his fingers along his leg. “I wonder what that looks like.”
“You may very soon get a chance to see for yourself,” Zenyatta chuckled, nodding his head toward where the thoughts were coming. “For she approaches now.”
True to his word, a giggling young woman rounded the bend and ducked playfully behind a tree, glancing over her shoulder once to watch behind her. As she turned to press herself against the trunk of the tree, she locked eyes onto his student and smiled brightly, holding a finger up to her lips with a wink. Following quickly after her was a familiar face to all three of them. As soon as he got close, she slipped behind the other side of the trunk, watching him gleefully from the shadows.
“Ah, Mr. Rose, how wonderful to see you again,” Zenyatta said, catching his attention in order to play along. It was always so nice to see the young couples enjoying themselves instead of cloistering themselves away into office chairs and hunched over their desks. Nothing of value could be learned staring into those holoscreens all day. “How are the mantras working for you?”
Dean smiled a little, seemingly flustered as he shifted the picnic basket from one hand to the other. “Uh, great! I haven’t had to use them as often, which is good, but they always help to keep me focused. You, uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see a young woman dash by here? About five foot two, long brown hair, drop dead gorgeous?”
Genji shook his head. “No one but you has come by here. Perhaps Briallen went in a different direction?”
“Maybe, I dunno she- Wait. I didn’t mention her name,” he said, a small grin forming on his lips.
At that moment, Briallen leaped from the shadows, wrapping her arms around his neck and almost dragging him backwards with her weight. “Surprise!” she giggled, letting go so as not to choke him. “I gotcha good, didn’t I?”
Dean let out a laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him, his eyes never seeming to leave Genji, who stood, with a slight stretch. “You definitely did! You had me worried there for a second, thought you ditched me.”
“Aww, I would never do something like that,” she said, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s good to see you again, Genji! How did that last mission go?”
“Very well, thank you! Tuscany is beautiful around the fall and Angela loves their cantucci, so it was like three birds in one,” he laughed, seeming to also sense the rising tension coming from Dean. “I do not believe you have met my Master, yet. Master, this is Briallen Marsh, she is Winston’s new assistant.”
Zenyatta stood to shake her extended hand, keeping a careful eye on Dean. “Briallen Marsh, that is a name I am familiar with. You did a wonderful job with the fundraiser last year! I was eager to meet you, but your colleges had told me you had fallen ill just before and were unable to make it.”
She beamed and blushed, seeming to waffle between being proud and embarrassed. “Oh, well, yes, that’s true. I’m glad you were able to make it though! It always means a lot to me to hear people enjoyed my work, especially if it meant they ended up helping others in the long run.”
“It is an honour to meet one so young, yet so devoted to the wellbeing of others,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Only be sure to keep yourself in mind. You can only help others if you yourself have been helped first.”
“Thanks, I’ll, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.” ‘ Whatever that means… ’ the amusing thought came down the tether, and if Zenyatta were able to smile, he would have. She would learn in time what that meant, he believed.
“Well, if you two gentlemen wouldn’t mind,” Dean cut in before anymore banter could be had. “We do have a picnic to get to, hopefully before the ice melts. It was good to see you.” And with that, he was ushering Briallen away with a hand pressed against the small of her back, though she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she smiled and gave a quick wave before happily coming along with him.
“He is not right for her,” Genji mused as soon as they were out of earshot. “He will bring her much pain and suffering…”
“Some things cannot be helped. Sadly, she must learn on her own what is best for her,” Zenyatta sighed, returning to his seated position in the grass.
“Mmn,” his student replied, shaking his head. “So she is the one who has an Omnic mind?”
He nodded. “Enough so that I heard some of her thoughts. I do not think she is aware of it. She will be in time, it is not our place to explain her existence to her.”
“I can’t believe you two actually had sex already!” Lena said, shaking her head as she picked out her lunch. “That was, like, super fast, don’t you think?”
You blushed a bit, following after her and doing the same. “I do think so, but like I said, we were both drunk and things happened…”
“And he’s claimed you as his girlfriend already?” she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. “You might want to watch it, Bri, I’ve known relationships like that and they’ve never ended well.”
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything bad by it, I mean, I didn’t really mind it. He did also take me on a wonderful date after we woke up,” you said, trying to prove that it wasn’t nearly as bad as Lena was making it out to be. You had told her pretty much everything that had happened, excluding what Dean had said about Jesse; Lena wasn’t really at risk with her not being attracted to guys and all, and you really didn’t want to ruin her image of Jesse.
She smiled a bit. “I heard, you guys ran into Genji and Zenyatta, didn’t you? Genji said you two made a handsome couple. Did you guys ever decide what your costume theme was going to be?”
You smiled and nodded eagerly as you sat down and began to tuck into your lunch. “Yeah, we did! I’m not allowed to tell anyone, though, it’s supposed to be a surprise, I guess. But, I did get fitted for the dress yesterday after the date and I caught a glimpse of the dress concept Eugene has planned for it! It’s going to be absolutely beautiful!”
“I’m sure it will be!” Angela said, coming up to your table with a small, strange smile on her face. She was looking down at you with an expression that was almost like pity. “Eugene is very talented when it comes to dress-making. Briallen, I would like to talk to you in my office. Now, if that’s alright.”
Your eyes widened and you exchanged a worried glance with Lena. “Can I ask what this is about, Angela?”
She smiled thinly and shook her head. “I’m sure this is something you’d rather discuss in private, I’m afraid. Sorry to steal her from you, Lena.”
Lena shook her head quickly. “No, that’s alright, Doc. Bri and I can finish catching up later, yeah? Go on ahead.”
“Thank you. If you would come with me, Briallen? You can take your lunch with you, if you’d like.”
“Just take a seat right here,” Angela said, gesturing to a rather comfortable looking armchair in her office as she pulled up a small table for you to set your lunch on. Her office wasn’t as big as you’d expected it to be and it felt almost like you were visiting your old therapist with how it was decorated; her degrees all hung up nice and neat on the walls, a small bookshelf filled to the brim with books, not all medical, and quite a few plants sitting around. There were no filing cabinets; she must have switched purely to digital files long before you were hired.
You sat nervously, feeling like a kid about to be lectured. “So, what’s this about?” you asked, almost instantly shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
Her smile was soft and… sad, in a way. “Jesse tells me you’ve been looking into the Black Wasp case. Is this true?”
Your eyes widened and your heart sank into your stomach. ‘ He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone…’ “Uh… am I in trouble if I say yes?”
Angela laughed softly. “No, you are not. In fact, Ana and I both knew you weren’t going to drop the subject when Jack told you to. No, you’re not in trouble. I didn’t bring you here to lecture you, I brought you here to ease your mind. Jesse told me you drew some very interesting connections between yourself and Morrigan, to the point where you were concerned you were Morrigan. Is this also true?”
You narrowed your eyes, watching the doctor closely. “Yes. Angela, do you know something? Something about who I actually am?”
She nodded. “I do, but before I can explain that, I have to talk to you about Black Wasp and Organic Omnics. To be honest, Jack should be the one here talking to you about it as he was the closest to Aderyn, but he doesn’t know I’m telling you about this. Let this be our little secret, hmm?” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Tea?”
You shook your head. “No thank you.”
“Very well. To start off with, you are not Morrigan Morgan, though, in a way, you resemble her. Not in your past actions, Briallen, but in what you’ve endured. You see, Dr. Aderyn Morgan was a very intelligent woman, though… misguided morally. I had the displeasure of meeting her once, and it was not pleasant conversation, let me tell you. Aderyn was the lead scientist of Organic Omnics, which was a government funded project created in Scotland sometime during the Omnic Crisis. It’s original goal was to find a bridge between Omnic and Human to create some kind of peace between the two and help end the war.”
“I get the feeling that wasn’t at all what it was doing, was it?” you asked, taking a bite of your sandwich. It was definitely a relief knowing that you weren’t the murderer you’d been doing so much research on, but hearing that you resembled her kept you a bit confused.
“Well, to a degree, it was. Aderyn was successful in blending humans and Omnics using a creation of hers called Living Metal. Tell me, do you remember the way the bullet wrapped around the bone of your right arm on the day we met for the second time?” she asked, pulling the offending bullet out of her desk. It was a little weird that she had kept it.
“Um, yeah. But I’d never been shot before or seen someone get shot outside of tv, and you didn’t seem to really react strangely to it, so I figured it was normal,” you said, leaning forward to get a better look at it.
“That would be because I didn’t want to freak you out,” she admitted, leaving the bullet on her desk. “I can assure you that bullets don’t normally mould around bone like this. This bullet did so because the bones in your right arm are made up entirely of Living Metal, as are parts of your spine, and parts of your occipital, temporal, and frontal lobes. Have you ever noticed how Omnics around you almost seem to react to your thoughts? That’s because Aderyn had implemented the communication link found in the hardware of many Omnic minds into your own, and many others like you.”
You frowned, rubbing at your face in confusion. “Okay, okay, slow down. So, you’re saying I’m part Omnic? That’s.. You’ve got to understand that’s a little hard to take in. I don’t feel any different from what a normal person would feel like in any way. At least, I don’t think I do… Even-even if I did, wouldn’t I have been told this because of how long I spent in that hospital?”
Angela shook her head. “No, because we, Jack and I, paid them not to. Listen, before you get upset, Briallen, you have to know we did this for your own good,” she said, standing up and walking over to you. She crouched down, taking your hands from your face and holding them gently in hers. “You were made in the image of Morrigan, the same engineering, the same genetic code, the same cybernetic enhancements, as were many young orphans who sadly ended up in Aderyn’s care. But you managed to escape before Aderyn could turn you into a murderer. Jack and I just wanted what was best for you at that time, which was to hide any hint of your past identity. If you knew any of this, there was a chance you would have called attention to yourself and she would have found you again.” Her eyes looked pleadingly up into yours. “Briallen, you don’t have to forgive us, that’s not what I’m asking you to do. I’m asking you to understand that we were only trying to help in the best way we could. Jack…
Jack felt responsible for you, Chäferli. He met you once when you were a child, back when he tried to stop Aderyn from becoming what she is today, and he left thinking he’d managed to persuade her. If he had known… he would’ve taken you away from that awful place, I know it. Every time our conversation steers to you, he gets the saddest look in his eyes because he knows he failed you. When I told him I found you again, when I told him what happened, he was so happy. All he wanted was to keep you safe and allow you to live the best life you could away from Aderyn. We did this to give you that life.”
A few tears welled up in your eyes. You’d known Jack acted differently around you, but you could never put a name to it. Now, you felt you could. ‘ Was that… Was that him trying to be fatherly to me? ’ “And now?” you asked, trying not to cry. “What does this all mean? Who does that make me? Who am I, Angela?”
She smiled and squeezed your hands. “You are Briallen Marsh. You are the girl who escaped the clutches of a mad scientist who bent your body to her will, and you lived. You are the girl who sacrifices so much of her time, money, and body to those in need because your soul is so pure and your heart hurts to see them hurting. You are a beautiful, shining soul and I do not want you to ever think you are anything less because of what Aderyn’s done to you.”
Tears now flowed down your cheeks and you lurched forward, wrapping Angela up in an embrace. Throughout all the years of life you could remember, no one had ever been able to help you learn about your past. You had anguished over it night after night, just wanting to know your place in the world, not realising you’d already carved it out on your own. Even more than that, no one had ever tried to tell you that you were worth more than you thought. Your friends had all tried, but they just didn’t understand. Now you knew.
Angela let out a soft chuckle, hugging you tightly back, and letting you cry into her lab coat for a little bit. After a while, after your tears had mostly dried and you loosened your grip around her, she pulled back with a smile. “What would you say if I told you that you had a chance to help even more than you already are?”
“What?” you asked, sniffling and wiping at your cheeks.
“Aderyn did more than give you cybernetic enhancements, Briallen. She played with your genetic code, but hid it all away until she was ready to use you. If you give me the chance, I could reactivate the code and you could be more than just an assistant.”
Notes:
Translations
* mo ghràidh - my love
* Máthair - mother
* mo phrìseil - my precious
* Dè fo Shealbh - what the hell
Chapter 10: To Bee or Not To Bee
Chapter Text
‘You could be more than just an assistant, Briallen. You could join Lena and everyone on the hero roster. You could do so much more good in the world than you are right now.’ Angela’s words bounced through your head as you struggled to fall asleep. You were a genetic mutant, apparently, which was a little hard to accept and understand. You had been trained and conditioned by this Aderyn , which might have explained how you were such a sharp shot, even though you hadn’t knowingly held a gun in the past five years. You were worried about what you might have done with those skills before any of this.
Now, you were trying to decide whether you should go through with the procedure or not. You had it pretty good right now, a stable job in which you really weren’t in any danger, someone to love and hold you when you felt down, friends who felt more like family…
You rolled over, facing Dean as he slept, and reached out to gently run your fingers across his cheek. ‘ I wonder what kind of combat he’s seen… How many people he’s… how many he’s lost. How long was he in the army for, it couldn’t have been that long, he’s too young…’ You let your hand fall back down to the mattress. ‘ Should I tell him? We’re dating, he should know at least the most major things happening in my life, right? Maybe he’d be able to help me make a decision... But what if it scares him? What if he doesn’t like me anymore after that…’ You bit your lip and sighed, quietly slipping out of bed. ‘ I need to go for a run.’
The night air was cooler than you expected as you exited the compound, but you didn’t let it get to you as you set off with a slight jog to get started. You hoped the air and the blood pumping through your veins would clear your mind enough to let you get to sleep, but it did practically nothing. Instead of forgetting about everything and focusing on the music and the feel of your feet pounding the pavement, you continued to waffle with your choices and question every thought you had.
Frustrated, you stopped and leaned against the compound’s rear wall, gripping your knees. “I am Briallen Marsh, I am twenty-six years old, I am an assistant,” you murmured to yourself, trying to revert to old mantras that used to keep you sane back in the old days. It was supposed to help you focus your thoughts on the present instead of the past you thought you might never know. “I have a cat named Euripides, he is five. I have a boyfriend, his name is Je-Dean, he is sweet and he loves me for who I am.”
“Briallen? What are you doin’ out here?” came the familiar southern rumble as Jesse approached, smiling brightly.
You stood up quickly and smiled, happy to see his familiar face. “Just out for a run, clearing my head,” you said, pulling out your earbuds and wrapping your arms around yourself. As you stood still, the cold air clung to the sweat on your skin, making you shiver, something Jesse’s keen eyes didn’t miss.
“Just clearin’ your head, huh? Then why’re you out here without a jacket?” he asked, pulling off his serape to wrap it around your shoulders. His eyes took on a serious darkness as he looked down at you. “You ain’t runnin’ from anything, are you? Does Dean know you’re here?”
You blinked, surprised, one at the warmth the serape provided and how his scent swirled comfortingly around you, and two at the sudden shift in tone. “I’m… I’m fine, Jesse. Dean’s still asleep, so no he doesn’t know where I am. Even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t need to know where I am twenty-four-seven.”
Even with the confirmation, Jesse’s eyes stayed dark. “Listen to me very carefully, Briallen,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “If he ever lays a hand on you, you let me know first thing, okay? You send me a message or something on your communicator and you let me know and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Your heart beat quickly in your chest with a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You liked Jesse, as a friend, you’d thought, but the way he had you almost pinned to the wall… You couldn’t tell what this feeling was. Fearing it was more than just platonic affection, you forced yourself to settle on fear. “Jesse,” you breathed after a few moments, unable to tear your gaze from his. “Jesse, you’re scaring me.”
As soon as the words were out of your mouth, the sudden persona he’d gained melted, and his expression read nothing but guilt as he quickly took a step back. “I-I am so sorry, pumpkin, I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just… I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I knew that he’d hurt you…” He turned away a bit, scratching at his neck and rubbing at his face.
Your fear faded quickly, replaced with a warm gratitude. “Jesse… you don’t have to be so worried about me, you know. Dean’s not going to hurt me, I can promise that. Why would you even think such a silly thing?” you asked, reaching up to place a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his gaze back to you.
His eyes searched yours for a couple seconds before he sighed. “I… I don’t know. Sometimes I just worry about my… friends. Let’s… let’s talk about something else, shall we?” His smile was weak and his gaze begged you to agree, so you let it drop.
“Okay, what are you doing out here so late? I didn’t take you for a late night runner.”
“I needed a smoke,” he answered honestly, turning to stand beside you against the wall. “Hanzo doesn’t like it when I smoke inside the apartment, so I come out here to do it. Also helps to get some fresh air.”
You frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t do it anywhere and just quit altogether. Smoking’s no good for your health, you know,” you said, looking up at him from the corner of your eye as you kicked at a small pebble on the ground, holding the serape closer. It was very calming, being surrounded by his scent again, enough so that you had forgotten entirely how Dean had warned you about him.
Jesse chuckled, giving you a slight nudge. “Now, look who’s worried about who. Trust me, I get enough nagging from Angela to know the whole spiel. You don’t need to remind me. Speakin’ of Angela, I heard she dragged you into her office earlier today. You okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I uh… Well, uh…” you bit your lip, dropping your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, honestly. I think… I think I’m finally starting to see larger chunks of who I was thanks to Angela but… I’m… Angela- ugh!” you groaned in frustration, kicking off against the wall and beginning to pace. “I’m so tired of not being able to get my fucking thoughts out! Jesse, I’m a mutant, I went through some awful fucking scientific torture because of Dr. Morgan, who planned to use me as a killer but never got the chance because I managed to escape and flee to Switzerland by gods know what transportation only to find myself in the middle of a fucking street like a dumbass and end up in the hospital because I wasn’t paying attention to traffic! Half of my brain is Omnic technology and the bones of my entire right arm are some strange fucking metal that lives and feels and acts like normal bone and, apparently, I’ve been sending out thought waves or whatever to Omnics around me because of what that godsdamned doctor did to me and I-”
Jesse leaped forward, grabbing you by the arms to steady you as you tripped over your feet, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Breathe, darlin’, breathe,” he murmured, gently rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. “I don’t think I heard you take a single breath during any of that.”
He was right; your head reeled a little bit and you leaned against him for support. You were trembling and a few tears collected in your eyes. “Jesse… I’m not human. I… I don’t know what I am, Angela didn’t explain what the transformation would be, but Aderyn messed with my genetics, she pretty much rewrote the code to my body… I only look human because she managed to mask the changes she made, I think she was planning on unmasking them when I was to be trained but…” You looked up into his eyes, clutching at his arm. “I don’t know what to do, Jesse. Angela says she can unmask the code, make me a hero, but, I don’t know if I want that. I mean, what if… what if I don’t look the same? What if I’m ugly and deformed and just… Not who I am now?”
Jesse took a second, pulling you into an embrace and pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting out a heavy breath. He held you in silence for a few moments, allowing you to cry quietly into his chest as he rocked you back and forth until, finally, he spoke. “Briallen, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, and I mean that wholeheartedly. I ain’t just talkin’ about your looks, I’m talkin’ about your whole self. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re so selfless, I bet you’d try to give your life for someone you just met if it meant savin’ theirs. There are a lot of strange people on this base, robots that walk and talk, a cyborg who’s gone through a lot more than I think I ever could, a rat with a fetish for explosives.”
You chuckled, sniffling and wiping at your eyes as you pulled away a bit to look up at him.
He smiled. “And, hell, even look at Winston, he’s a gorilla that can talk,” he said, reaching down to wipe at one of your tears, his hand cupping your cheek. “All of us here have one common goal, to help save the world. Isn’t that one of your goals?” he asked, watching you nod your head, and chuckled. “Then I think you’d fit right in, mutation or not. I’m not gonna tell you which choice to make, whether you go through with Angela’s plan or not is all up to you, I just want you to know that, whatever choice you make I-we will all love you just the same, okay?”
You smiled, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes, your heart swelling as you nodded. “Okay,” you whispered, unable to help but relapse into another bout of tears. There was so much pent up emotion inside your chest, so many years of fearing who you were, of uncertainty about your place in the world, and, somehow, being here with Jesse, in his embrace, it made you feel like you had a place where you were accepted no matter what. It made you feel stable for the first time in years.
He let out a sigh of relief and pulled you back against his chest, pressing another kiss to the top of your head as he gently ran his fingers through your hair. He let you grasp at his chest, crying into his shirt just letting it all out. When all your tears had dried, he let you pull away and reorganise yourself, let you stand there and regather your breath, then held a hand out to you.
“Let’s get you inside, hon. I think a good night’s rest will do you good,” he said, wrapping his fingers around your hand when you reached out to grab his. His smile was soft, understanding and warm, inviting even, and you couldn’t help but smile back in return.
“Come on, Han, you ain’t even met her yet!” Jesse sighed, rubbing at his face as his boyfriend took another drink of his beer. The party had hardly even started and Hanzo was already staking claim to a seat at the bar. “Would you just give her a chance? We’ve been talking about finding a third.”
“Yes, we have, Jesse, but for a third to work, we both have to have interest. You’ve already stated that she and Rose are together, so why would I have any interest in her? You know how I feel about you pining over people who are already taken,” Hanzo shot back, frowning. “It’s immoral.”
Jesse snorted, shaking his head. “You’d know about immoral, wouldn’t you?”
Hanzo seethed. “Do not bring that up. We’ve talked about this.”
“If you would just talk to her, I know you’d take a shine to her,” Jesse urged, sighing again and reaching over to place a hand over one of Hanzo’s. He looked up at him with imploring brown eyes, reaching up to brush away his bangs. “Han, I’d like you to at least meet her. You don’t have to take a liking to her in that way. At the very least she is my friend and I would love for you two to get along.” He smiled softly, cupping his boyfriend’s cheek. “As long as you give her a chance, she will like you, I promise. She’s just got this genuine kindness about her, she’s so sweet. Please, Hannybear?”
Hanzo sighed, tilting his head to lean into the touch. He watched Jesse for a few seconds, the cogs turning behind those dark eyes of his, before he closed them and nodded, relenting. “Only because you look adorable when you beg,” he said quietly, pulling away from the touch to take another drink. “But I feel like you have an ulterior motive, Jesse. What is it?”
Jesse’s smile faded and he dropped his hand heavily into his lap, gripping at his leg as he let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve… I’ve heard rumours about Rose. Many rumours from people I trust. He’s not a good man, Han,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m afraid he’s going to hurt her.”
Hanzo stiffened, frowning. “Physically?”
“Possibly. Mentally and emotionally are more likely,” Jesse admitted, rubbing at his face, almost messing up the skeleton facepaint Hana had done for him. It bothered him that she was so attached to Rose; they had practically been joined at the hip for the past week, and it was starting to seem like that wasn’t her idea. “He’s already got his eye on me, and I’m pretty sure he’s told her some bullshit lies about me seein’ as she’s been obviously trying to avoid being alone with me after that night. But he don’t know about you.”
“You want me to keep an eye on her,” Hanzo said, understanding what his boyfriend was trying to get at.
“Please, Han. You’ve already said you got no interest in her, not as long as she’s with Rose, he won’t suspect a thing. I don’t want to spook her or prompt Rose into doin’ anything drastic on account of he might hurt her, but I want to make sure she’s safe. ‘N I trust you the most,” he slipped his hand into one of Hanzo’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Please, darlin’, I’m beggin’ you here. Truly beggin’.”
Hanzo seemed to think for a few moments. “On one condition,” he said gruffly, finishing his drink. “I get to top tonight.”
Jesse grinned, pushing himself up to press a kiss to Hanzo’s temple. “Yessir. Thankee, gorgeous,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around him as he stood.
Hanzo chuckled, leaning into the affection. “You were right, she is pretty,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the ballroom doors where people were slowly streaming in.
Jesse looked up in surprise and had his breath nearly taken away. She looked absolutely stunning in her costume; a floor length, cream coloured dress adorned with pink and red flowers clung nicely to her frame, outlining the curves of her waist and torso perfectly while also giving her a look of young innocence - something she really didn’t need help achieving -, her hair was pulled to the side in a loose braid, also adorned and intertwined with flowers and little pieces of greenery. Her eyes shined so brightly he could nearly make out their honey caramel undertones from halfway across the ballroom. He was so captivated that it took him a second to recognise the dark figure standing beside her.
Rose was dressed in a very, very dark suit with what looked like blue flames painted professionally up the sleeves and pant legs starting from the cuffs. He was holding what looked like a bident, which was the only thing, in Jesse’s mind, that gave away what his costume was.
“Hades and Persephone,” he mused bitterly, shaking his head. “How appropriate.” He watched as a small crowd gathered around them, knowing it was Rose’s own parade of groupies. “Do you think he ever gets tired of having his ass kissed?”
Hanzo snorted, stifling his laughter. “Hush, Jesse, jealousy is not a pretty colour on you.” He titled his head, watching how Jesse softened just at the sight of her. “You truly are smitten, aren’t you?”
Jesse smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze trailing after her as she and Rose drifted further into the ballroom, Rose’s friends following closely after.. “You won’t blame me once you get to know her, Han. You’ll start melting just from the sound of her voice just like I have.”
Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Jess… She looks happy. Are you sure you’re right about Rose?”
Jesse’s smile hardened as she caught sight of him and started to make her way over. “I’m more than sure. Relationships like that never start off bad. Briallen! Or should I say, Your Highness,” he said, giving her a dramatic bow as he admired her up close; she glowed even in the dark atmosphere of the bar. “You are lookin’ absolutely radiant, as ever. I daresay you don’t even need that dress to outshine the rest of the women here tonight.”
Briallen blushed, brushing back a strand of loose hair. “You think so? Dean insisted on having a professional do my makeup for tonight, I’m not a big fan of all the layers caked onto my face, but I’m glad it was worth it. How are you, it’s been a while!” There was a sadness in her eyes as she spoke, a sort of apology mixed in with their depths; she didn’t want to be avoiding him like she had been. He suspected Dean had learned about their late night encounter and had had quite the conversation with her. Jesse both did and didn’t want to know how it went.
‘He’s already started manipulating her, hasn’t he?’ he asked himself, watching the way her eyes jumped from him to the crowd Rose was still swallowed up in and back again. “Is sumthin’ wrong, darlin’?” he asked softly, following her gaze to find Rose watching them, obviously unhappy, either with her current choice in company or simply with the fact that she wasn’t currently glued to his arm, completing the costume.
She cleared her throat and shook her head, quickly stepping up to the bar and ordering a drink. There was a nervousness to that lilting Irish accent of hers, making it wobble just slightly. “N-No, why do you ask? Everything’s fine. So, did you come stag again this year? Lena said you might’ve.”
Hanzo snorted and moved to stand and walk away, but Jesse hooked an arm around his waist and dragged him back.
“No, I didn’t. Briallen, I would love for you to finally meet Hanzo, my boyfriend,” he said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Hanzo’s head as if to prove a point.
Hanzo frowned a bit. “I am not a trophy to show off, Jesse,” he grumped, turning dark eyes on Briallen, who shifted awkwardly but still held out a hand with a bright smile.
“It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you!” she said, cocking her head, as she waited for him to return the gesture. “Jesse has told me a lot about you, all good things, of course!”
Jesse’s smile softened with pride. Even under Rose’s oppressive thumb, it seemed she’d been working on gaining confidence. He remembered when she’d struggle to get through the first “hello” without stuttering terribly. Now, here she was, standing her ground against his grumpy, glaring boyfriend.
Hanzo seemed to hesitate before Jesse felt him relax against his side, reaching forward to shake her hand. “It seems my partner likes to talk about us both quite a bit, as he’s also talked extensively about you.”
Briallen’s blush seemed to deepen at that and Jesse found some sort of pride in the reaction. “Has he? Well, I’m flattered to be a part of your conversations.” Her fingers wrapped delicately around the stem of the martini glass that was placed beside her and she leaned forward to take a drink, her eyes scanning the crowd of people, no doubt for Rose. It seemed she couldn’t find him, because they widened a fraction only a second later and she stood stiffly in place, looking around.
‘She looks like a frightened fawn… I’m going to kill him if he hurts her, I swear I am.’ “Briallen, darlin’, are you sure everything’s alright?” he prodded again, beginning to reach forward but quickly shoving his hand in his pocket as a tall, dark figure approached.
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” Rose asked, slipping in behind her and immediately drawing an arm around her waist. The action seemed to startle her as she jumped and took a step forward, only to be pulled back to his side. She had to set the martini down to keep from spilling it on her dress. “There you are, darling, I’ve been looking all over for you. I told you to stick by my side or you were going to get lost in the crowd, you’re so small,” he chuckled, drawing her into a kiss that made Jesse’s stomach flip in anger.
Hanzo must have sensed the anger building in him because he quickly laced their fingers together, giving his hand a squeeze as if to say ‘Be calm. It’ll be alright.’
“I’m sorry, I just wanted a drink,” Briallen said, pulling uncomfortably out of the kiss. “And I told you I know my way through crowds, I’ve been to concerts before, you don’t have to worry about me…”
“It’s my job to worry about you, kitten, you are mine after all. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t worry?” Something about the way he spoke left Jesse with a nasty taste in his mouth, which only grew in intensity when Rose turned an outwardly disgusted gaze onto the cowboy and his partner. “I see you two are still going strong. How… quaint. After all those years of not coming together, we all thought you two had broken up.”
“I don’t enjoy parties, for obvious reasons,” Hanzo said, glaring back at him.
Rose’s look of disgust melted into an aggressive confusion. “I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you might be. Are we going to have a problem?”
“No, no problem,” Briallen cut in with a squeak, offering both Jesse and Hanzo a deeply apologetic look. “I think I have to… powder my nose. Escort me?” she asked, turning those pretty chocolate eyes on Rose and effectively distracting him.
Rose smiled, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “Of course, princess. It’s just this way.” His grip on her arm looked a bit tight as he began escorting her away and Jesse caught a soft “I thought I told you” as they walked out of earshot.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he growled, holding Hanzo tightly. “I’m gonna fucking tear his throat out.”
“Shh,” his boyfriend hushed, patting his hand. “I can see what you meant earlier. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I thought I told you to stay away from Jesse McCree,” Dean murmured in your ear, gripping your arm just a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “I only asked you to do one thing for your own good and you couldn’t even do that? You promised me that you would stay away from him, Briallen, and you didn’t even wait a full twenty-four hours before you deliberately went behind my back and broke your promise.”
“What?” you asked, shocked and confused by his words as your mind echoed them back to you. ‘ He only asked you to do one thing… you made a promise… No, but I’ve been trying- Trying isn’t good enough, is it? You made a promise and you broke it. What kind of girlfriend does something like that? ’
“Don’t try to act innocent,” he scoffed, putting on a surprisingly real smile as someone called his name, nodding his head in the direction of the voice. He never stopped tugging you along though, and you realised you weren’t headed for the bathroom. “I know about that night you “went for a run”. You came back reeking of cigar smoke and I know you don’t smoke, neither do any of your friends.”
A sudden fear gripped your chest as he drew you closer to the centre of the ballroom, where a waltz was starting. “Dean, I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t expecting to run into him and I-”
“Stop,” he said, his smile unfading as he turned you, preparing for the dance to start. “Smile, nod, follow my lead.”
Your head swam in confusion at the seemingly quick mood change. “But-but I don’t know how to dance.”
He drew you closer as the music struck up, signalling the dance to begin, his hand on your waist, digging into your hip, you had nowhere to go, not without looking suspicious. “Then I suggest you learn quickly,” he said lowly, his gaze flicking back over to the bar. “We have an audience, you know. Wouldn’t want them to think anything is wrong, right?”
Without warning, you were pulled along, stumbling through the first and second iterations of the box step, each time you missed a step, you felt a small pinch on your side; Dean trying to signal for you to catch up. Eventually, you got the hang of it, though you flubbed a few steps when the box began to turn and the speed picked up.
“I don’t understand, Briallen, why are you so keen on disobeying me?” Dean asked softly, nodding amicably as you passed by another pair of dancers. “Do you hate me that much?”
You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “What, no! Of course not I-”
“So you want to see me suffer? Have I hurt you that much?”
“Dean, no! Stop, I-”
“Then what is it? Do you love him more than me? Do you love me at all?” he asked solemnly, giving you the most sorrowful look you’d seen on anyone recently. “Am I not enough for you, Briallen?”
“Of-of course I love you!” you managed, feeling your eyes begin to mist up as hurt blossomed in your chest. “Don’t- don’t say stupid things like that!”
He raised a brow slightly, his gaze still sorrowful. “Then why don’t you listen to me? I only do all of this for your good, to keep you safe, princess. I only want to see you smile, yet you continue to go against my wishes.”
“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…” ‘ I’m awful… he looks like he’s about to cry… and it’s all because of me… He tried to warn me about Jesse, and I promised to stay away from him, yet I keep going back to Jesse… I hurt him, I made him feel this way… I did this… ’ Tears manifested in your eyes, and your nose began to tingle. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Dean leaned forward, pressing your foreheads together and somehow kept you two within the realms of the dance, moving in perfect time with the rhythm and the other dancers. “Shh, don’t cry, kitten,” he shushed, rubbing his thumb gently against your side. “It hurts me to see you cry… I know it’s hard to break off and stay away from old friends, I know. But McCree isn’t your friend, he doesn’t want to be your friend, he wants to hurt you, and I don’t want to see that happen. So, please, just listen to me, okay? Stay away from Jesse McCree. I don’t care if he’s got his boyfriend with him, he’s probably in on it too, I don’t want you anywhere near that man.”
You nodded a bit, sniffling and trying to keep the tears from leaking out of your eyes in case they ruined your makeup. “Okay,” you whispered, your throat tightening as the tears threatened to spill. “I’ll try.” ‘ I’m lucky to have someone so understanding and forgiving… ’
Dean smiled, holding you closer as you finished off the dance. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter 11: Boldness Bee My Friend
Notes:
This and the next chapter were originally supposed to be one and the same, but, as I was writing it, I realised it was becoming too long. I just don't feel comfortable having so many pages in one chapter and many fewer in the others. Thankfully, I was able to split it in an appropriate spot and still leave plenty of suspense. I hope you all enjoy it!
Chapter Text
You saw Jesse a lot less after the Halloween ball; it almost seemed like he was avoiding you as much as you were trying to steer clear of him. The thought was sad, but you knew it was probably for the best, after all it was hard to seek comfort or companionship in someone who had no interest in seeking the same from you. But, while Jesse had made himself scarce, his boyfriend seemed to do the opposite. Where before you were about as likely to catch a glimpse of Hanzo as you were to catch a whale in a fish barrel, you now found his dark gaze nearly everywhere, most especially when Dean was by your side. The way he watched you struck you as odd and did nothing to soothe your nerves about Jesse. Eventually, about a month after the ball, you’d had enough of the quiet stakeouts and rounded on him in an empty corridor when the chance provided itself.
“Why are you following me?” you asked, catching him by surprise. You could see the lies forming behind those dark eyes as he looked away, refusing to meet your gaze. “And don’t even think about lying to me! I can smell a lie from a mile away.” That, of course, was a falsehood. The average person could only correctly distinguish when someone was lying about fifty-four percent of the time, and you were no better than the average person. But Hanzo didn’t need to know that. “Jesse put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“Jesse didn’t put me up to anything,” he shot back, though his words weren’t bitter. Instead they sounded, sad, almost apologetic. But you didn’t want an apology, you wanted to be done with this whole mess with Jesse, wanted to make Dean happy. It was the least you could do after you hurt him like you did back at the ball.
Almost as if he could read your thoughts, Hanzo’s gaze hardened a bit and he stood a bit straighter, though keeping his head bent down towards you as if to lower himself to your height. “Jesse is concerned about you, and, frankly, I must admit that I am as well.”
You scowled a bit. “Look, I appreciate that he wants to look out for me, but he doesn’t have to have his boyfriend stalk me throughout the compound. And how on earth are you concerned about me? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve seen the way you and Rose interact and it’s concerning,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
A new anger burned up inside you and you held your files tighter against your chest. It wasn’t all anger, though, there was a fear that you couldn’t quite understand. Why were you so scared of this? “You know nothing about our relationship,” you said slowly, shaking your head, “and you have no right to pry. I wouldn’t throw bricks in a glass house such as yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to, and I would like to finish the journey to my office, alone.” With that, you turned to stalk off, but quickly stopped when Hanzo called after you.
“He’s lying to you.”
You turned just slightly, fingers tightening around the edge of the files in your hands. “What?”
“Whatever he’s said about Jesse is a lie. I will not pretend to know what Rose has told you, but Jesse wants nothing more than to make sure you are happy and safe, Miss Marsh. That’s why he has asked me to keep an eye on you.” He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “He cares for you a lot more than he shows.” There was a strange twinkle in his eye, one that almost suggested he was starting to do the same, but you dismissed it.
You stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking over what he had just said. ‘ Why would… why would Dean lie to me? He wouldn’t? Would he?... No… no, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t betray my trust like that, I won’t believe it.’ Shaking your head, you turned away. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Shimada,” you said, already distancing yourself from the conversation. “But it’s unnecessary. Dean and I are happy, end of story. Now, if you would stop following me, I would be very grateful.” You didn’t wait for a response this time, and hurried down the corridor. The walk to the office wasn’t long, but it certainly felt like it was with how much your mind was trying to work over what he had just said. ‘ But… what if he actually is lying to me?’
Pausing in front of your office door, you glanced back down the corridor, almost hoping to see Hanzo still standing there. Maybe if he had stuck around, he’d be willing to talk about this a little more, maybe he would forgive your rudeness. But the archer was nowhere to be seen. You were alone.
Biting your lip, you waved your card and the door to your office slid open, startling the occupant inside. Piddie let out a little mrew? of curiosity and lifted his furry little head to look up at you from your desk where he was laying among some old paperwork you had yet to file.
You let out a sigh of a laugh, letting the door slide shut behind you as you walked in, reaching out to scratch the top of your cat’s head. “Hey there Pids,” you murmured, setting your files down next to him. “I almost forgot you have access to my office too. Did you miss me? You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Dean lately.”
Euripides purred, stretching his head up to butt his head to your palm, his collar jingling softly at the movement. As the fur shifted, you caught sight of a little piece of yellow paper rolled up and stuck to the collar. Curious, you switched hands and pulled the paper off, unrolling it. Almost immediately you smiled. It was a little note from Dean, a cute little “I <3 u!”, but it was charming in its simplicity.
‘ No. I trust him. Dean cares about me too much to lie to me like that, ’ you determined, flattening the note and setting it beside some of your desk decorations. You shook your head, scolding yourself for putting any stock into whatever little scheme Jesse had put together to make you trust him, and sat down to work.
It took hours to get all that paperwork done. Why that agent had to go out of his way to be such a dumbass was beyond you, and you almost regretted offering to take the paperwork off of Winston’s hands. But, that was what you were here for, after all, and you felt truly accomplished when you finally finished it.
“That wasn’t so bad,” you told yourself, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of your now cold coffee. It was a lie, of course, it was as bad as you had thought it would be, but you didn’t want to make it into a big deal.
That was something you found yourself doing more often, lying. Lying to stop a fight, lying to dismiss negative attention, lying to keep yourself safe, lying to appease. It wasn’t particularly something you liked doing, and you hated that you’d been doing it more often, but it seemed almost necessary. Was every relationship like this? That was almost how it had been with Jeremy, but Jeremy was a douche and was never truly nice to you, not like Dean was. Dean lavished you with attention, always wanting to make sure you knew how much he loved you. He bought you dinners, brought you coffee and snacks on those long days where you hardly made it out of your office for potty breaks, made sure you remembered to drink water and reminded you when you had appointments with Dr. Penn, and, anytime he could, he would cuddle you nearly to death. Not at all like Jeremy.
But there were some similarities you’d noticed; nights when Dean came home extremely late, drunk, and was a little too touchy feely, moments when you swore you could see the flash of anger in those green eyes when your topics strayed to other people, mostly men, how he kept secrets. They were mostly small; where he had been, what he had done that day, who he had been with. He always told you the same story, “I was out with some friends”, but being out with friends didn’t explain the solemn, stone expressions he would come home with, the days when he wouldn’t come back until the wee hours of the mornings, the strange scents he would come back home wearing. Eventually, he stopped responding to your inquiries about his day, instead immediately steering the conversation elsewhere. You had chalked it up to him finding the repetition exceedingly boring and wanting to talk about something else.
You frowned, the coffee mug still pressed delicately against your lips. No, Dean wasn’t like Jeremy, but there was something about him…
Your holo flashed, shattering your thought process and making you jump in your seat, almost splashing cold coffee onto your uniform. Frowning, you set the cup down and leaned forward to investigate; the holoscreen had inverted its colours somehow.
“That’s strange,” you murmured, moving to switch to the settings page to see what you could do to fix it. Before you could touch anything, however, the holo flashed a couple more times, displayed an astonishing wall of code that just kept running down the screen at an alarming rate, then went completely dark. It sat there for a few seconds, quiet save for the blinking icon that sat there, waiting for words to appear and move it along.
You tapped at the keyboard.
Nothing happened.
You tapped some more.
Nothing.
Then, without any prompting, the cursor moved, leaving a trail of words behind in its wake.
Your stomach dropped, you went ice cold.
“H E L P,” it said, the white letters screaming against the black abyss behind them. “W A L W O R T H. K I D N A P P E D. H O S T A G E. A R A C H N I D. G I B S.”
The room was quiet for the kind of meeting they were having, far too quiet. This was a matter of security, a top priority, and yet everyone was silent, watching as Winston sifted through walls of coding.
He was frowning deeply. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone code like this in quite a while,” he muttered, rubbing at his face. “And the fact that he was able to hack his way through my security protocols…”
“Gibson was always very good at those kinds of things,” you said, shaking your head as you looked out the window. You couldn’t bear to look at anyone’s faces right now, too consumed with worry for your friend. With that brush with Arachnid you had only months before, you felt as if you had caused this; they were looking for you.
“Whether he’s a veteran hacker or not, I’d certainly want him on my team,” Winston chuckled, making you frown.
“Is this really the time to be making jokes, Winston?” Ana asked, shaking her head at him as she came over to you. Her hand was warm on your shoulder, surprisingly comforting. “I am so sorry this happened, Briallen. We are going to do everything we can to make sure we get him out of there safely.”
“I should have a team ready by tomorrow,” Jack added, nodding at you from across the room.
You met his gaze through the reflection of the glass, digging your nails into the meat of your arm. This was your mess, you wanted to fix it and get Gibson out of there as soon as possible. “We might not have until tomorrow,” you said, turning away from the mirror and giving Ana a small, grateful smile that quickly faded. “We need a team now.”
Jack frowned. “You’re not in a position to make those kinds of decisions, Briallen.”
“Well then put me in one!” you barked, your sudden venom making everyone in the room jump. “Better yet, put me on the team! I’d much rather it be my life on the line than Gibs’. I’m the one who caused this mess in the first place!”
“Briallen,” Angela started, taking a step towards you.
“No! Don’t you “Briallen” me! I’m not a child, Angela, don’t treat me like one.” You turned to face Jack, not even bothering to hide the challenge in your eyes. “You and I both know that even if you don’t put me on the team, I’m going, whether you like it or not. I’m not some helpless little intern, Commander. I’m a near perfect shot, I’ve got plenty of hand to hand combat under my belt, it’s about time you let me do something other than sit at a desk and push buttons all day!”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Is… Briallen what has gotten into you? You’ve never expressed interest in being in the field as a combatant before. In fact, you seemed pretty hesitant when I mentioned you might be put in a situation where you would have no choice. What’s changed?”
Angela shot you a worried glance.
You paused. “I… I don’t know, okay? All I know is my best friend is in danger and you’re all just sitting around twiddling your damn thumbs! Who knows how long Gibson has left! I’m sorry, but I can’t just sit around and hope and pray that everything is going to be okay, I need to know myself, I-” you stopped yourself, scared at the thoughts that just crossed your mind. You wanted to make Arachnid pay for this. If you found that anyone had hurt Gibson, you were more than ready to make them hurt. ‘ What’s happening to me? I’m… I’m never like this… ’
Jack, Angela, and Ana all exchanged a strange look as you went silent, Jack’s more worried than anything.
“Briallen, have you been feeling alright?” he asked, moving as if to push himself up from the chair he was sitting in, but thought better of it. “Is everything okay?”
You seethed, pulling away from Ana as she moved to lay a hand on your arm. “I’m fine. Gibson is not,” you spat, shaking a bit. “Now, you either put me on that team, or I’m going to go out there alone!”
“Now, Briallen, be smart about this,” Angela cautioned, furrowing her brows.
“I am being smart!” you said, rounding on her. “I’ve taken down two of those fuckers before, by myself, it shouldn’t be too hard to take down a handful more if it comes down to it. I know that I can handle this, now are you going to let me prove it or not?”
Angela looked up at Jack in concern, deferring the decision to him.
Jack was quiet for a bit before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You really think you can do this?” he asked, turning serious blue eyes on you.
“Yes.”
“Fine. Angela, com McCree and Genji. Tell them to get their asses in gear. The sooner we mobilise, the faster we can get this over with.” He shot a pointed look at you as he stood, frowning. “You’d better live up to your word, Miss Marsh.”
The fact that they had placed Jesse on your team really didn’t sink in until the last minute when you were following Jack down to the armored van, your go-bag slung across one shoulder. He was just standing there, almost as if he had been waiting for you. Just the sight of him sent a pang shuddering through your chest. It was easy to ignore how much you had found you’d cared for the cowboy when you two were actively trying to avoid each other, not so much when you were standing face to face, you with a frown, and he with that stupid grin of his.
“Briallen, darlin’. Long time no see,” he said, turning his warm gaze on you. He seemed hesitant, glancing behind you a few times as if to make sure a certain someone wasn’t following you, waiting to pounce on him for simply saying hello to you. “How’ve you been?”
“I think you already know the answer to that, Jesse.” You glared at him, ignoring the urge to run over to him and lose yourself in his embrace, and instead indulging the urge to slap him in the face. The sting against your palm felt good. The pain in your chest did not. Still, you persisted. “You had no right to sic Hanzo on me like that,” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. Your body ached to let it drop, to apologise for avoiding him, to let him wrap his arms around you like he’d done so many times before, but you fought against it, holding onto the anger. You felt if you let it go then you wouldn’t have the steel necessary to save Gibson.
Jesse groaned softly and massaged his cheek a bit, looking down at you with wide, apologetic eyes that made you want to slap him all over again, if only to see whether he’d actually get angry at you. “Briallen, I’m sorry if you think I crossed a line,” he started, searching your gaze, “but I won’t apologise for being concerned about you.”
Jack grunted, looking between you two. “Look, can we save this lover’s quarrel for later? We’ve got a man to rescue. You two can squabble all you like when we come back, now is not the time.”
Ignoring the Commander, Jesse slowly dropped his hand down to his chest, wrapping it around the one you were currently jabbing against his chest, never breaking eye contact.
You flinched at the touch, but didn’t pull away, letting the warmth of his hand envelop yours as you searched his gaze, trying to figure out his motives. Everything about him at the moment was so open, you could read him like a book; his eyes were earnest, the quirk at the edge of his lips playful, but his touch… There was a hope, a warmth, a yearning.
Your breath caught in your throat as your heart did a somersault. You swallowed hard, letting the emotions wash over you. This… This was real. It was overwhelming, blocking out the world for a few seconds, leaving only the two of you in the car park. You had never felt a connection like this before, never felt so much raw emotion in a single touch, a single gesture, it was almost too much. It scared you, but yet you still did not back down, you still did not avert your gaze.
Slowly, Jesse smiled, his eyes lighting up as he realised you’d read it all, as he realised you weren’t going anywhere. He finally broke the eye contact, looking down at your hand as he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. That grin was infuriating. “Briallen-”
“ Don’t ,” you whispered, gritting your teeth because you were in trouble, and lots of it.
Understanding, he nodded, letting you pull your hand away, even though you really didn’t want to. “Let’s go save your friend,” he said, gesturing towards the van. “Winston will brief us on the way.”
Gibson was locked in a dungeon with a time limit. His objective? Stall for as long as bloody possible. Make it hard for them to get the information they wanted, but make it look like he was trying his hardest to obtain it. In all reality, once he had broken through Overwatch’s firewall, he could have all the information they wanted within mere minutes. But he wasn’t about to hand it all over that easily.
He knew he had a friend on the other side of that firewall, the shy little firebrand he’d known for years. As much as Caelen and Iris fronted about being the most protective out of the group, Gibs knew better. There had always been something different about Briallen, something fierce and loyal hidden behind those charming honey and chocolate eyes, tucked away behind the stuttering and the nerves.
He’d only seen her in action once, at a convention. Poor little Sylvia had been separated from the group, which had caused a panic among them. They’d found her being harrassed by some arseholes, tugging at the frill of her costume and the tips of the fake ponytails she had in. While Caelen and Iris were seething and ready to call security, Briallen had only politely asked them to leave Syl alone. Of course, they didn’t do that, and when they moved to continue harassing Syl, she had forcibly wrenched one back and away from her friend. Two punches were thrown. The first had come from the guy she’d moved, which missed. The second came from Briallen herself, and landed directly on the nose of her assailant and was followed by a sickening crunch. A fight almost broke out between them, thankfully security had arrived before anything else could happen, but she had been more than ready to do more than just break his nose. It was then that Gibson realised that she would fight tooth and nail to keep her friends safe.
He hoped he still counted as a friend after she’d gone away to join Overwatch. It was why he reached out specifically to her. It was a stroke of pure luck that he was able to find the holo screen she was on, and that she was online at the time as well. It looked like she’d been busy for a while, some agent stuck his head somewhere it didn’t belong and nearly got blown to bits it seemed, and she was the one filing the paperwork. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if she was really happy with this, sitting in an office doing nothing but paperwork. That was a question that would have to wait until later.
The sound of heavy footfalls echoing through the empty hallway made him jump and he quickly shifted screens, going back to slowly decrypting the files he’d been tasked with gathering. The door to his dressing room dungeon swung open, and the sound of sobbing floated in from the main stage. He cringed, closing his eyes and pausing in his work. He’d seen the young woman when he was dragged in through the back, she had been tied tightly to a chair next to a man who seemed roughly around her age who had also been tied to his own chair. He knew they were being interrogated. As to what Arachnid thought they knew, he had no clue.
“How long do you intend on torturing them?” he asked, refusing to look up and meet the gaze of his visitor.
“Not long,” the man replied.
There was a gunshot, followed quickly by loud wailing. Another gunshot, then nothing.
Gibson felt like he was going to be sick.
The man chuckled, cocking his head. “Well, I didn’t lie, did I?”
“What do you want?” Gibs asked sharply, looking back to his holo screen to continue decrypting files. “The more you bother me, the less information you’ll have. I don’t have a huge time gap in which to do this in, you know.”
“Ooh, getting cheeky are we?” the man asked, taking a few steps forward. “I like cheeky, ‘s more fun.”
The impact came without warning, the searing pain sending Gibson reeling to the ground. It felt like he’d just been shot, but he knew better than that. Reaching up, he pressed his hand against the side of his head where he’d been hit, not at all really surprised that it came away somewhat sticky with blood. He groaned, moving to stand, only to find himself back on the floor, a boot pressing into his sternum. He tried to pry the foot off his chest, but the man was too heavy and was bearing down too much to be dislodged.
“Now, don’t you get smart with me, boy,” the man growled, grin feral as he leaned down forcing Gibson to look him in the eyes. There was a wildness in them that frightened him. If he wasn’t careful, Gibs could die before Overwatch even thought about rescuing him.
Groaning in pain, he nodded slowly, still scrabbling at the boot which kept him pinned to the ground. “Okay,” he managed, his head starting to pound sharply. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
“That’s better,” the man said, shoving down hard with his foot before removing his weight from Gibson’s body. “We’ve a new task for you, one more important than the last. Pays better, too.” His thick accent hung heavily in the air like the smoke from a cigar. “The good doctor wants to know all she can about a certain someone. Her name’s Briallen Marsh.”
Gibson’s blood went cold. “B-Briallen who now?”
The man scowled, taking a step forward as if to threaten another boot to the chest, but never followed through on the threat. “Marsh. Same little girl that offed ol’ Roy Adams a few months back.” His scowled curled up into a smile. “That name seems familiar to you.”
Gibs pushed himself up slowly, shaking his head. “Er, what? No. No, no, no, no. I just- I had an aunt named Briallen. She’s been dead for years now, so you could imagine my confusion-”
“Shut up. Get that girl’s file, then finish up with the rest. Our patience is starting to run thin.” With a sneer, the man slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Gibson alone in his mildewy prison.
Gibs let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall, cradling his head. He had no idea what the man had hit him with, it felt like it had been the butt of a pistol, but it could have easily been something else. Whatever it was, it had hurt like hell, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was concussed. ‘ They’re looking for Briallen, ’ he thought, looking solemnly down at the floor. ‘ God, Bri, what did you do? ’
He let himself sit there for a little bit, waiting for the pain to subside a bit so he could go back to work, now beginning to decrypt his friend’s files. There was quite a bit, but no more than any of the small files he had found. That was until he found the files attached to hers, hidden away under a higher authorisation level than the rest of her information. These were not meant to be found by anyone who did not know about them, and they did not have her name on them either. ‘ Shit Bri. This is a lot… What have you gotten yourself into? ’
It took about an hour after he’d been left to his own devices that he heard the first signs of hope outside the doorway. The signs came in the sounds of a struggle, the sharp clack of a gun skittering to the ground, a couple weak thumps against the wall, followed quickly by the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground.
“Houston, this is Prodigy. That makes number fifteen. Approaching the target’s door now,” came the familiar lilting voice. The doorknob rattled a bit as his saviour unlocked it, and the door swung open to reveal Briallen Marsh in the flesh. She was frowning, but only for a split second as she looked him up and down, obvious relief flowing through her. “Houston, this is Prodigy. I’ve located Spectacles, securing the target now,” she said, grinning widely at him, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Spectacles?” Gibson asked, shaking his head as he grinned back at her, moving to wrap her in a hug. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? I don’t even wear glasses anymore! Oh, come ‘ere, love. It’s bloody brilliant to see you again,” he breathed, giving her a generous squeeze. The armor she was wearing pressed uncomfortably into his chest, but he didn’t mind.
“Sorry,” she said, giving him a lighthearted shrug. She held him almost as tightly, sniffling softly as though she were about to start crying. After a second, she pulled away and looked him up and down. “Let me take a look at you. Oh, Gibs,” her voice softened and she reached up, ghosting her hand over his head trauma, taking in the state of his face, which was likely still sporting bruises and a black eye from a few days ago. “What did they do to you?”
“Nothing that won’t heal,” he said, shaking his head. He took his own time to examine her a bit. She looked different, that’s for sure, what with her hair cut shorter and the bit of muscle she’d begun to put on. The armored uniform she was wearing definitely made her look like a badass. But there was something else different about her. It was hidden in her eyes and behind that gentle smile of hers, in the way she was trying not to bounce on her feet.
She was happy. Happier than she’d been before that run in with Arachnid. Happier than she’d been in a while. That was good.
His smile softened and he gestured to the com stuck in her ear. “How long do we have? If we’ve got time I can siphon some of their intel onto a hard drive to take with us.”
Her eyes widened and she punched him softly in the arm. It was harder than it’d been before she left, but he knew she hadn’t meant it to be. “That’s a brilliant idea! Houston, this is Prodigy, how long until enemy backup arrives?” she asked the air, listing her head to the side as he imagined her response came. Her gaze darkened a bit. “Copy. Bandit, Shadow, we’re going to nick some info. We’ll meet up with you in the north quadrant in ten.” She turned back to him, nodding. “Do what you can, we don’t have a lot of time, ten minutes tops.”
Gibson nodded and jumped up, quickly going to work on the holo in front of him. It wasn’t hard to completely erase the intel he’d copied from the Overwatch servers, which he found he no longer had access to. Nor was it very hard to begin copying as much data into the hard drive he’d installed in the holo a few days ago. What was a little difficult was how to breach a rather concerning topic with his friend.
“Briallen,” he started, frowning as he watched files disappear in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”
Briallen had tucked herself behind the door frame, watching the hallway carefully. “Yeah, sure, we’ve got time. But, don’t you need to be focusing?”
He grinned, shaking his head, his eyes glued to his own task. “I could do this in my sleep. It’s about your files. Before you came in, I was given the task of copying your files over and, er, I found something weird. Have you ever heard of Organic Omnics?”
She audibly stiffened, shifting uncomfortably where she stood. “Yes.” Her answer was short, clipped.
“Are you aware that you’re-”
“I know,” she interrupted. Once glance back at her revealed she was frowning deeply, squeezing the handle of her gun so hard her knuckles were turning white.
“How long?” he asked, concern causing a crease in his brows.
“About a month. Angela told me. I found the Morgan files and drew some connections.”
He frowned, glancing back at her, meeting her gaze this time. “How are you handling it?”
She drew in a breath between her teeth, looking away and back out toward the hallway. “Well enough. It explains… well it doesn’t explain a lot, especially not what I was doing in Frauenfeld, but it gives me some peace knowing I have a past.” She was quiet for a moment. “Angela wants to reverse the process, put me on the roster, make me a hero.”
Gibson raised an eyebrow. For a second, he couldn’t see it, couldn’t see Briallen running out into the line of fire, couldn’t see her racing back into a burning building, couldn’t see any of it. But then he realised, that was how she’d been all along. Give her the opportunity and she would have risked her life for someone else at the drop of a hat, no questions asked. Hell, she’d risked her life coming here to save him! Briallen had always been ready to risk it all for the good of the world, this would only make her stronger.
He chuckled a bit to himself. “Why haven’t you done it yet?”
She shrugged, adjusting her stance. “I have some concerns… mainly vain ones. I only just started to regain my sense of identity, what if the process stripped that away from me again? What if it’s not what I’m expecting? What if it turns me into a monster?”
Gibson took a second to think about it a bit more before he nodded. “I think you should do it.”
“Really? Why?”
“Cuz you’d look bloody amazing in spandex,” he teased, shooting a smile over at her, laughing when she rolled her eyes. “It’s true! But, seriously, Bri, in my twenty-seven years of life, I’ve never once met a person who would better suit being a hero than you. I think you have all the makings of a young hero on the rise, this would just give you an extra boost.”
He expected her to smile and blush shyly, to look for a reason he was wrong, to deflect the compliment like she always had. Briallen had never been one who was able to take compliments well. But instead of doing any of that, she smiled and lowered her head a bit.
“I’m flattered you think so, Gibs,” she murmured, settling back into position. The movement made Gibson realise she’d been, quite literally, standing on her toes ever since he brought up Organic Omnics.
‘ She’s not nearly as comfortable with it as she made herself seem is she? ’ he thought, turning back to his screen. He opted not to comment on it. “You’ve changed,” he said softly.
Her head whipped around toward him and she frowned. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“You’re more confident now, and you’re a lot happier than you were before. It makes me glad to see you’re thriving where you are now. Just don’t forget about us little people,” he teased, beginning to finish up the transferring process.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “How could I ever forget you guys! You’re my friends! It’d be hard to forget you anyways, having you on base. Winston wants you on his team.”
Gibson’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? He doesn’t want to, like, strangle me with his big gorilla hands?”
Briallen laughed. “Of course not! He was actually really impressed that you were able to get past his intense security measures. So, let’s hurry this up, yeah? He’s dying to see you.”
Chapter 12: Ambition Should Be Made Of Sweeter Stuff
Chapter Text
“Prodigy, this is Houston. We’re seeing movement near your sector. Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage! Bandit, Shadow, I’m sending you their coordinates. Your objective is to get Spectacles and any remaining civilians out of the building. Do not engage with the new arrivals. Avoid conflict as much as you can.” Winston’s voice was underlaid with a hastily covered up panic, a sound that made your skin crawl with unease.
“Houston, this is Bandit, we copy. Do you have a visual description?”
“No. Good luck.”
You shivered, casting a wary glance around you. “Gibs, do you know how to shoot a gun?” you asked quietly, reaching down to pull the handgun from its holster at your waist.
“Uhm, I mean, I’m pretty good at the zombie game at the arcade?” he offered, giving you a nervous smile as you handed him the gun. “So, in theory, yes?”
“It’s easy, you flip the safety here, then you hold it up, aim it as best you can, and pull the trigger. Just try not to shoot me,” you said, offering him a weak smile in return as you gripped your pulse rifle. You were glad Jack insisted on arming you with at least two guns before sending you in here. “Stick close to me, we’ve got some trouble hanging around. Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out of here safely.”
The corridors between classrooms were too quiet, some littered with the passed out bodies of the Arachnid gang members you’d run into on the way here. It had been a tough fight, especially when you had separated from Jesse and Genji, letting them hurry off to deal with the other civilians you had found. Turns out Gibson wasn’t the only one Arachnid had eyes on.
Beads of cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck as you focused, listening intently to the still air around you, even when it only echoed your own footsteps back to you. Wait, were those your footsteps? One-two, one-two, yeah, those were yours, and the other pair that repeated the rhythm back mere nanoseconds after belonged to Gibson. Where were you? A glance to the right revealed a plaque that read “Classroom 4-C”. Eastern wing of the building. Your mind traced through the route you would have to take to get back to the north entrance, back to Jesse, back to safety.
A soft howl broke the silence of the building, too animalistic to be human, but too human to be anything but.
Another howl responded, this time from the opposite end of the building.
They were surrounding you.
“Hey, Gibs,” you whispered, fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of your gun. “Now would be a good time to learn how to use a firearm, yeah?”
You heard him gulp. “I-I-I suppose so. D-d-d-do you have a target in mind?” he asked, and you could practically hear him trembling. Gibson was not made for combat, that much was clear. That just meant you would have to fight harder to keep him safe.
A pair of glowing amber eyes rounded the corner, locking onto you. The body they belonged to was hunched, stalking on two human-like legs. Clawed hands grasped at the air, twitching as the creature raised its head. Its face was strange, stretched to mimic that of a wolf’s, but the muzzle was far too broad, blending forehead and the bridge of the nose. A deep snarl wrenched itself from the depths of its furred throat, a tail trashed against the wall, knocking over a long-abandoned trash can, and it sniffed the air.
Your breath hitched in your throat and you tensed in fear. “Yeah, Gibs, I think I do,” you breathed, taking a step back.
The creature threw its head back and let out a long, triumphant howl, before it dropped to all fours and began a mad dash towards you. The fading sunlight glinted off its coating of silver fur as it barreled past the windows, reflecting off its large, bared fangs that dripped with saliva. Whatever this thing was, it had no intention of letting either of you out of here alive.
A couple gun shots behind you made you jump and ripped your attention away from the quickly approaching beast as you glanced back to see what had caused them. Gibson was trembling, shakily trying to get a few shots off another incoming creature which looked too similar to the one who was bearing down on you now. There was a third on its tail.
‘ Fuck, it’s a pack, ’ you thought, gritting your teeth and turning back to face the wolf beast, just a second too late.
With a roar, it tackled you, growling and snarling as it went for your throat, saliva dripping from its mouth and onto your face as you just barely managed to hold it back. Your gun was pressed against its chest, pushing it as far away from you as you could manage. The beast was heavy, its body weight pressing you into the ground, and from this close you could see scar tissue lining the muzzle and patches of bare skin that looked far too human. Somewhere deep in the growling, you could hear the undertone of a voice.
Its back claws dug into your legs, tearing into the fabric of your pants and ripping up the skin beneath, a clawed hand managed to reach around and do the same to your arm, and you cried out, desperately trying not to lose your grip on the gun. In terms of brute strength, you were terribly outmatched. If you couldn’t figure out a way to get out from beneath this thing within the next few seconds, you might be doomed.
Gibson cried out, letting off a volley of shots before he was tackled to the ground, his gun skittering across the floor out of his reach. You saw the glint of teeth, heard the vicious snarl, and waited to hear your friend choke on his own blood, but the sound never came. Instead, there was a sharp burst of barks, and then calm.
The beast above you, while not pulling away, stopped actively trying to rip your throat open. It glared down at you, breathing heavily. There was nothing but pure animalistic rage behind those amber eyes.
You gave an experimental push with your gun, but the beast did not budge, like it had turned to stone. ‘ Fuck! ’ “Houston, this is Prodigy! Requesting backup immediately! I repeat, request-” Your cry for help was cut short as the beast raised a clawed hand and brought it down on your cheek, tearing a wound from your cheekbone down to your ear as it sought the com nestled in it. The earpiece fell out and was promptly smashed beneath the creature’s fist. Blood dripped down your jaw, soaking into your hair.
“Now, now, we can’t have that, can we?” a rough, feminine voice asked. “Norrix, if you could please dispose of her weapon.”
The beast growled in response, yanking the weapon out of your hands and throwing it behind him. There was nothing between you now, you were completely at his mercy. Or so he thought.
Screwing your courage to the sticking place, you tucked your chin in and threw your head forward, smashing the crown of your head against its nose. As it yelped and drew back, you jammed your hand into its throat, brought your knee up into its stomach, and managed to turn yourself, quickly crawling out from underneath it. The moment you were up on your feet, you were slammed face- first into the wall, a clawed hand on your throat.
“Well, I’ll be, the little bee still has some fight in her. You’re far from your wasp days though, aren’t you?” the woman asked, laughing into your ear. Her breath was hot against your neck and reeked of rotting meat. “Now, let’s face each other like real women, shall we?” She wrapped a strong hand around your wounded arm and whipped you around, making sure to keep her hand wrapped around your throat and slammed your back against the wall. A feral grin split her face at your cry of pain.
She was a wolf beast as well, though quite prettier and more human looking than the others. High cheekbones and striking golden colouring gave her the look of some sick fae being, especially paired with the blood that stained her muzzle. She stood at least a foot taller than you, her body long and lean, a light dusting of fur covering all the places that should have been bare, human skin. There was an intelligence in her amber eyes, and a deep seated bloodlust.
Behind her, you could see Gibson pinned to the floor by two of the beasts, one who currently had his neck held between his jaws, ready to bite down at a moment’s notice. The other beast was watching closely, waiting for the moment it could leap in for a killing blow as well. Gibson was white as a sheet.
“Let him go, he’s done nothing wrong,” you croaked, wincing as the she-beast’s claws wrapped tighter around your throat.
She hummed softly, inspecting your face. “Norrix did a number on you, didn’t he pretty bee? And, look, he even gave you some stripes, how sweet.”
You grit your teeth. “Don’t fucking ignore me. I’m not a toy for you to play with.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “There she is, that vicious little wasp that I used to know and love so well. What happened to us, darling?” Her eyes glinted with mirth. “What happened to you? Mummy dearest has been missing you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let him go,” you repeated, unable to tear your gaze from Gibson’s. You would be damned if you let him die here.
“No. No, I don’t think I will. See, he’s carrying some valuable information that Mummy doesn’t want getting out, especially to those Overwatch pests. And, oh the secrets he could share,” she mused, leaning a little closer and lightly dragging a claw up the bottom of your chin. A thin line of blood dripped down your neck from the new wound. There was a flash deep in those amber eyes and she pinned her body against yours, claws digging into your side. “Kill him.”
“No!” You struggled against her, clawed at her arms, her muzzle, anything you could get your hands on, but she wouldn’t budge. “No, please! He hasn’t done anything!”
Your pleas fell on deaf ears. The wolf beasts spared no time in making short work of Gibson and you watched in horror as they tore into his throat and his stomach, ripping off large chunks of flesh and spraying blood everywhere. You watched as the life drained out of those deep green eyes, watched as he flailed for the first few seconds before quickly falling deathly still. You watched as your best friend was ripped apart before you.
You were sobbing, still fighting against the she-beast, part of you praying there was still a chance. If you could get free, if you could get to him, if Winston sent the medics in, there was still a chance, there had to be a chance, you couldn’t lose him, not Gibson, not the kindest, funniest, dorkiest man you’d ever met. Not the first person to ever make you feel loved, wanted, human. Not him, no, not him.
You were only vaguely aware of what happened next. There were gunshots, loud whimpers, the stomping of many pairs of feet. You were dropped onto the floor, a promise whispered in your ear, “We will meet again,” and then you were rushing forward on your knees. His blood soaked into your clothes, mingled with your own. You pushed the body of one of the beasts off of him, reached out and cradled his face, begged him not to go, told him to hold on, you were going to get him out of here. Then, you were wrenched away by a pair of strong hands, familiar hands, pulled into a sturdy chest. You fought against it, you couldn’t leave him, you promised you’d keep him safe, no, no they couldn’t make you leave!
“Briallen, baby, it’s over, it’s over, he’s gone. We’ve got to go, please,” Jesse murmured, holding you tightly against him, turning you to face him, pressing you against his chest as he slowly began to move you away from the body.
“No, please, you can’t, you have to save him!” Your voice was hoarse, your body ached as you pounded your fists against his chest, pushed yourself away, but you didn’t even have the strength to do that. Eventually, you dissolved, wailing into his chest and letting him escort you out of the building.
He had to carry her to the car. About halfway to the doors of the Giuseppe Pecce Tuition building, her legs gave out beneath her and she had clutched so pathetically to him that his heart nearly broke. He didn’t mind that his fatigues were getting soaked through with the blood that still oozed out of her open wounds, didn’t even think about it after he managed to get her into the van. He hurt for her, for the undeniable pain she was experiencing right now. It was one thing to lose a best friend, it was another thing entirely to watch them die before your eyes without a way to stop it.
“It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he murmured, setting her down gently on one of the seats in the van, quickly taking a look at her wounds. The bruises on her neck had all but faded, which he still believed was some damn SEP bullshit that he’d only seen in Morrison and Reyes, and the deep claw wounds had started the slow healing process. He could see the skin at the corners beginning to stitch together. “I promise everything is gonna be okay.”
She stopped him as he pulled out an emitter, shaking her head and leaning forward, her small hands gripping at his larger ones. “No, please. Don’t want one,” she hiccupped, trembling.
“Sweetheart, you need an emitter. They roughed you up pretty bad, you’ve lost a lot of blood and if we don’t get these patched up, you’re going to lose more,” he said, frowning, reaching up to cup her undamaged cheek. “And those are going to leave some nasty scars if we leave them. They really did a number on your face…”
She leaned into the touch, wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist and looked away, tears still leaking from those sad brown eyes of hers. “Gibson got it worse,” she murmured, closing her eyes as another sob wormed its way out of her.
Jesse paused, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Okay,” he breathed, furrowing his brow. “Okay, no emitter. But you at least have to let me patch you up. It ain’t gonna be pretty, but it’ll keep you from bleeding out, okay?” He waited for her to nod slowly before he pulled away and grabbed the med pack, pulling out some disinfectants and gauze.
Sighing, he turned around and crouched down in front of her. He realised he’d have to partially undress her to get to some of those wounds, and he sighed again. ‘ It shouldn’t have turned out like this. ’ “Briallen, baby, can you wiggle out of those?” he asked, gently tugging at her pants. “I can’t get to your wounds with all that fabric in the way.”
To his surprise, she chuckled, smiling weakly at him. “Maybe Dean was right, maybe you are really only trying to get into my pants.”
He knew it was meant to be a joke, he knew she was probably trying to cope, trying to deflect all the emotions she was feeling, but the mention of Dean made him stiffen and his frown deepen.
He saw her face fall. “Jesse, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Still don’t mean I have to like it. Come on, now, let’s get you out of those. Can you stand?”
“I… I might need some help, it hurts to stand.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He was careful with her when he helped her stand, his hands resting gently on her sides, trying not to push into the wound there. When she winced and whimpered, he helped her down again and tugged the fabric down her legs, setting them aside for after he finished patching her up.
“This is going to sting,” he warned, preparing the disinfectant spray, gripping her knee with his metal hand to keep her leg still. The wound raced up her right thigh and was deep, enough so that, another inch deep, and we would have been able to see the bone. ‘ I should have been with her. Genji could have easily taken care of those thugs by himself, what was I thinkin’? ’
She screamed when the spray was applied, letting out a stream of curses in Gaelic and gripping onto his shoulder tight enough that he thought she’d leave wounds on him. Her breathing was ragged as he set the spray bottle down, and he could see how tightly wound the muscles of her leg were.
“I know, I know. Relax,” he murmured, gently massaging the unmarred parts of her thigh. “The more tense you are, the more its gonna hurt. We’ve got to let it dry a bit before we can wrap the bandages around it.”
“Mhac na galla,” she breathed, leaning back against the van wall and closing her eyes. Eventually, she relaxed again, her fingers unclenching themselves from his shoulder, and looked down at him. She frowned, reaching forward and gently massaging the space between his brows. “It’s not like you to not have a pretty quip or two, Jesse.”
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the touch, but right now, he didn’t feel as if he deserved it. Reaching up, he gently pulled her hand down, pressing a light kiss to the back of it before pressing it into her lap. “I should have been with you,” he said quietly, looking down and away from her as he began wrapping the gauze around the wound. “It was stupid of me to let you go by yourself, especially when you’ve never been out in the field before.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” she said, lifting her leg to make it easier for him to wrap the gauze.
“Actually, it was. I had superiority. I was supposed to watch your back. And now you’re injured and your friend is-” he cut himself off, shaking his head as he moved onto the next wound on her other leg. He could see the bone on that one and it made him frown deeper. ‘ I put too much faith in the training Jack was giving you. He hadn’t trained you for something like this, not yet. I realise that now. ’
She was ready for the sting this time and managed to replace her scream with a low moan. “Not your fault. I wasn’t strong enough.”
He gently gripped her ankle, pulling her closer to him as she had instinctively drawn back from the pain. His fingers massaged the flesh of her calf as the spray dried. “Don’t say that Briallen, you were-”
“Stop,” she whispered, and Jesse looked up to see her on the verge of tears again. “Stop trying to put the blame on yourself, Jesse. It’s my fault. I told the Commander I could handle it, I thought I was strong enough, but I wasn’t. So stop.”
He pursed his lips, searching her gaze for a second before he looked away and began wrapping the second wound. “What were they?”
She sighed softly, the tears still in her voice. “I don’t know. Mutants, I think. I’ll write up the report later, just… let’s please stop talking about this. I’ve just lost my best friend, Jesse. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
When he had her all patched up, he sat down beside her, gently taking one of her hands into his own. She surprised him by turning and curling up in his lap, tucking her face into the side of his neck. She was warm, and tiny, and fit just right. It nearly made him ache. He ran his fingers through her blood-caked hair, gently tugging at the knots and untangling them until there were no more left.
“Dean told me to avoid being with you whenever I could,” she said softly, fingers drumming against his collarbone. “Said you didn’t want to be my friend.”
He raised an eyebrow, frowning. “Yeah? What, did he say, I wanted to hurt you?”
“Mmhmm,” she nodded her head a bit, nose brushing against his skin. “He said you wanted to take advantage of me. That you’d get close, use me, and then abandon me.”
Jesse let out a scoff. “Yeah, well, Dean Rose is a lying, manipulative asshole,” he said, gently wrapping an arm around her. “This ain’t his first rodeo.”
She was quiet for a bit, fingertips brushing against his neck in a way that gave him goosebumps. “How long have you known?”
“I had my suspicions the day he tried to kick me out of your room. Talked to a few friends of mine who knew him, learned about how some of his past relationships went. None of them went very well,” he admitted, letting out a sigh.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, her voice trembling and weak. The question made him frown.
“Would you have believed me? I’m sure Hanzo said something when you rounded on him this morning, did you believe him?”
“...I’m awful,” she whispered, her voice beginning to tighten. “I’m sorry.”
‘ I’m going to kill that bastard. ’ “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. He manipulated you, he’s good at that.”
She sniffed, shaking her head. “I let him deceive me. I blindly followed him, believing everything he said, I… I hurt you and Lena… “
He pulled back a bit, lifting her head by her chin and making her look up at him. He was sure there was a hidden fury in his gaze, and he did it best to keep it under wraps. He was going to have words with Rose later, and by words, he meant he was going to punch that bastard in that stupid pretty face of his. Maybe knock out a few of those perfect teeth while he was at it. “Briallen Marsh, don’t you ever apologise for anything he made you do. You trusted him because you loved him, that does not make you a bad person. He used your trust against you, that makes him a bad person. You are not at fault here, you are the victim.”
Her gaze wobbled, filling with tears that she quickly squashed down, and she nodded.
He sighed and brushed back her bangs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Go ahead and cry if you need to. Don’t worry about soaking the gauze, we have plenty more,” he murmured, letting her tuck her face back into the crook of his neck, smiling as she snuggled tighter against him. “We’ll be back home in no time.”
“Alright, let’s check the wound on your face,” Angela said, gently peeling back the gauze with her gloved hand. She hummed softly as you winced, tilting your head a bit to get a better look at it. “It’s looking good, the nanites in your body are doing a wonderful job at stitching it up.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling a but coming along.
“But, I wish you would have used an emitter. Letting it heal on its own is going to leave a nasty scar, Briallen,” she warned, smoothing the gauze back down onto your cheek.
“That’s okay,” you said quietly, fiddling with your fingers. “I don’t mind the scars.”
Jack grunted, shaking his head. “You should have had Jesse or Genji beside you, Briallen. All of this could have been avoided if-”
“If I had been stronger,” you cut in, looking up to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t strong enough to hold them off, and Gibs got… hurt because of it.” There was an ache in your chest every time Gibs was brought up, which had been a total of ten times since Jesse had carried you out of the building.
“Briallen, that’s not-” Angela tried to say, but you shook your head and frowned over at her.
“Yes, it was. If I had been strong enough to kick that mutant off of me… Maybe he’d still be here.” Your brain wouldn’t stop showing you the image of Gibson laying there, his throat ripped out, his blood spilling onto the wood floor- You shook your head, dispelling the image, instead focusing on the what ifs; what if you hadn’t looked behind you? What if you had shot that first mutant? What if you had been strong enough to push it off of you? It all boiled down to your fault, your mistake, your weakness.
You never wanted to witness something like that again, never wanted to feel so weak. You owed so much to Gibson, and in the end, you had gotten him killed.
“He deserves a proper funeral,” you said, not realising Angela and Jack had started talking about something else and you had interrupted. You didn’t care, not right now. “He died trying to get information to us, something he didn’t owe us, and he deserves a proper funeral.”
Jack looked over at you, all stern and commander-y, but you could see through that façade now. His eyes were sad, his posture less stiff than with other agents. This wasn’t Commander Jack Morrison, this was Dad Morrison. This was him feeling responsible for you, his worry, his grief. The thought made you frown.
“Briallen, that’s not possible. We’d have to alert his family, explain what happened, which would inevitably expose us,” he said, shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I don’t care. Make it possible. We don’t have to tell them exactly how he died. His family deserves to know, the triplets deserve to know.” Tears had begun to gather in your eyes, hard, angry tears. This was your fault, you caused this. The least you could do was make sure he was given a proper burial and the honour he deserved.
“The triplets?” Angela asked, scrunching up her brows in confusion.
You sighed, rubbing at your forehead. Being awake and in pain this long was starting to take its toll. “Caelen, Sylvia, and Iris. They were our friends, are our friends…” A sudden thought struck you and you looked up at Jack in concern. “Jack, I- we kept contact after I was hired. They don’t know about Overwatch, but they know I had to move, and they talked religiously with Gibson. If Arachnid went after him because of me, could they be in trouble?”
“That depends, where are they?”
“They live in the states, Washington, I believe. But they still have family here in England. What if, what if Arachnid manipulates their family, gets them to come back home? What if they get kidnapped as well?” You began to panic, your mind racing through all the possibilities. If they got hurt, it would be on you as well, it would be all your fault all over again. You couldn’t handle losing all four of your old friends.
“Briallen, take a couple deep breaths,” Angela said softly, gently laying a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure they’re safe for now. We have a safe house in Washington, don’t we Jack? We could move them there.”
You shook your head. “That’s too far, if something happened, we wouldn’t be able to get anyone out there fast enough.”
Jack frowned. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve had some free time. Figured I would eventually be of use somewhere other than my office, so I began studying response times, flight patterns, old ops and strategies. I may not be good in a fight, but I’ll be damned if I’m not good with my head.” You shook your head again, running your fingers through your crusty hair. Jesse had done a good job at getting those knots out. “If… If we hold the funeral for Gibson, they’re bound to fly out. We can keep them safe here, or at a safehouse in London. It’s only an hour away, less if we take a plane. It’s closer to Walworth than I’d like it to be, but it’s our best shot at keeping them safe.”
Both Jack and Angela were quiet, looking between you and the other, then Jack chuckled and gave you a rare smile. “You’re finally talking like an agent. We’ll see what we can do. I’ll talk with Winston and Ana, see what their take is. I’ll let you know when we come to a decision.” With that and a dip of his head, he turned and left the room, leaving you and Angela alone.
“Angela, there was one other thing,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose and blinking to try and get the headache to dispel itself.
“Of course, what is it?” Her eyes were filled with pity and concern. You didn’t like that, didn’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity. Not anymore.
“I want to go through with it, the procedure. I want you to make me a hero.”
Chapter 13: Speak Low, If You Speak Love
Summary:
An entire chapter dedicated to fluff? In this story? It's more likely than you think
Chapter Text
The Overwatch library wasn’t used nearly as often as it should have been. Ever since he joined at the behest of Jesse, Hanzo had found many a quiet afternoon spent between the walls of stories. After a while, he quickly found it was also the place where the rumour mill churned the hardest, and boy did whispers spread quickly through this compound.
“I heard the latest op didn’t go down well,” a faceless voice whispered somewhere behind the bookshelf. Hanzo never bothered to loiter within sight of the gossip tables. He didn’t care to know who the whispers belonged to; faceless agents meant he didn’t have a bias on whether he believed what he heard.
“Really? Did you happen to catch the name of it?” asked another voice, feigning interest. Not all ops went the way they were planned to, and lately, that had become the habit. It wasn’t so much a surprise to hear “the op didn’t go as planned” or, “we had to make some changes” or, “who the fuck came up with that, of course it didn’t work, and here’s why.” Or, at least, that’s what it seemed like on the surface. It could also be that the ops that didn’t work out were the ones that got talked about the most.
“Something along the lines of Operation Lost Glasses or something stupid like that. At least, that’s what I saw entered into the database. Some newbie was put in, heard she separated herself from the team, fucked everything up from there, ended up in the infirmary.”
‘ Agents will talk. Nothing to worry about, they are not my concern, ’ Hanzo thought, shaking his head and returning to browsing the selection of books in front of him. He was in the mood for poetry today.
“Hey, wait, I think I saw that. Yeah, it was that tiny little assistant wasn’t it? I could have sworn McCree was escorting her there. Do you think they were on that op together?”
Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut for a second. ‘ Fuck. They are my concern… since when was Marsh my concern? ’ He shook the thoughts aside and returned the books back to the shelves, keeping the panic at a minimum. ‘ They never mentioned Jesse having any injuries, but knowing that jackass I bet he did something stupid. ’ Trying hard to keep his cool, Hanzo quickly made his way out of the library and up to the infirmary.
He found Jesse standing outside the door, wiping down the joints of his prosthetic as best he could without taking it apart. He looked up in surprise when Hanzo approached, and his smile was quick, even if it was a bit world weary.
“Thank the gods you are okay,” Hanzo murmured, letting out a sigh of relief and pulling his boyfriend into a hug that quickly transitioned into a deep kiss. The touch was comforting, soothing some of the worry Hanzo had carried five floors up with him.
Jesse tucked the handkerchief into his pocket and chuckled into the sudden onslaught of affection. “Well, howdy there too, partner,” he rumbled, cocking his head as Hanzo finally pulled away. “You ain’t been this worried in a while. What’s got you worked up, Han?”
“I heard you were on an op with Marsh, you get stupid around her. I also heard that the mission went entirely sideways,” he said, reaching up to gently brush his fingers against Jesse’s jaw, searching his gaze.
Jesse sobered a bit, turning to press a couple kisses to Hanzo’s wrist, twinning their fingers together. “I ain’t the one needs worrying about. Briallen got too cocky, thought she could handle bein’ on her own while Genji and I released some civilians. I figured the Commander had to have been training her for something, and we pretty much had the whole building on lockdown, she’d be fine.” His gaze darkened as he looked down the hallway. “I was wrong. There were these mutants and she, uh, she lost her friend. Throat got ripped out right in front of her. If only we’d been there a few moments earlier, Han.”
Jesse looked torn up over it. He also looked so incredibly tired, and Hanzo didn’t blame him. It was late, he’d been out for most of the day on this mission, and he had most likely, and unnecessarily, hefted some of Briallen’s trauma onto himself.
“Stop it,” Hanzo murmured, giving his fingers a light squeeze. “You did what you could. You got her and the other civilians out of there relatively unharmed, that’s what matters.”
Jesse hung his head, his hat threatening to slip off. “I know. It’s just… I can’t stand seein’ her like that, Han… It hurts.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds before he offered a weak smile. “Got her to talk about Rose, finally got her to admit that he’s been manipulating her. I think she saw it, after a while, but lord knows she’s got a soft heart, she probably didn’t think he was meanin’ to do it.”
Hanzo remembered the way she jumped between them at the ball, how she’d expertly diverted his attention away from the fight that almost went down between the three of them, how she had handled Rose with a grace he hadn’t expected. “She’s had experience. This probably isn’t her first time being romantically involved with someone prone to emotional abuse. She could have had such a relationship soon after she woke up from her accident, an introduction into romance with a love like that could mess with anyone’s perception of affection and relationships.”
Jesse’s gaze darkened and he scowled, grumbling something inaudible as he buried his face into Hanzo’s shoulder, his arms tightening around the archer’s waist.
Hanzo gave a small smile, gently removing the hat to brush his fingers through Jesse’s messy mop of hair. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I wanna meet whoever fucked her up like that and introduce them to my fist,” Jesse growled, softening just a smidge at the fingers in his hair. “Anyone who treats their partner like that deserves nothing less… The things he told her, Han, the things he made her do, it just makes me spittin’ mad.”
Hanzo chuckled. “You are very protective of her, Jesse… I’ve found I don’t quite mind it as much as I used to. I think I might just be warming up to her.”
Jesse perked up at that, a slow smile spreading across his lips as his eyes lit up. “You… you mean it?”
“Mmn. I think it might have just been from casually observing her for a while, but she’s not… what I thought she would be… She reminds me of you in some ways,” Hanzo admitted, rolling his eyes at Jesse’s smile. “But, I’m not comfortable enough with her yet, and even if I was, she has to be comfortable with it as well. She definitely has a soft spot for you, but I can’t place her feelings on me just yet.”
“Give it time,” Jesse said, looking absolutely giddy. “You’ll warm up to her quickly. But I can’t say the same for her if you keep up this grumpy act.”
“What act?” Hanzo teased, just glad to see Jesse smiling again. It was always a sight to behold, when Jesse smiled; when he really smiled there was no part of his face that was untouched, every part of him just glowed. “That’s just my face, Jesse.”
The cowboy laughed, pressing a kiss to the tip of Hanzo’s nose. “That it is, darlin’, and I’ll be damned if it ain’t the cutest, meanest mug I ever seen,” he teased right back. His mood quickly soured, however, as he looked up to see a man striding angrily down the hallway towards them. “Rose,” he growled, standing up straight and disentangling himself from his boyfriend.
Rose gave them a curt nod, though the aggression in his eyes did nothing to hide his discomfort, with what Hanzo couldn’t place. It could have been the fact that he and Jesse had been so openly affectionate in the hallway - something that wasn’t super normal, seeing as Hanzo preferred to keep their relationship private and he wasn’t fond of overly public displays of affection - , or it could have been that he knew why they were both waiting outside the infirmary. They were waiting for Briallen.
“McCree, Shimada,” he said shortly, his lip curling just slightly before he turned to step into the infirmary.
Jesse’s hand shot out and he grabbed his arm, keeping him from entering. “You and I need to have a little chat.”
The scene that greeted you outside the doors of the infirmary shouldn’t have come as a surprise. On the transport, Jesse had sounded about ready to box Dean’s lights out, and with his line of work in mind, it really wasn’t a surprise that he would follow through with it. After all, Jesse was ex-Blackwatch, and you’d read enough Blackwatch ops to know they didn’t fuck around or pull punches.
All three men turned to look at you as you hobbled through the door, a crutch tucked beneath one arm. Both Dean and Jesse looked a bit roughed up; Dean was sporting a black eye, Jesse had him by the collar and sported a split lip himself. Hanzo was standing to the side, watching it unfold. You’d be lying if you said the sight of Jesse’s split lip wasn’t slightly attractive. You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sight of Dean’s black eye. You didn’t want to lie, so you didn’t say these thoughts out loud.
“Briallen, baby, if you could call off this oaf for me,” Dean asked through gritted teeth, glowering up at Jesse. “He attacked me out of nowhere and this aggression is extremely uncalled for. This is why I tried to warn you to stay away from him.”
You shifted all your weight to the crutch, eyeing him for a second. You tried to find some pity inside you, but due to recent events, you were numb from the pain and exhausted from the toll of it all. All you wanted was to get to your quarters, take a nice bath, maybe get some cake, and sleep. You tried to picture Dean in any of these scenarios, tried to find some emotion other than anger towards him, but failed.
All three of them watched you carefully, waiting to see what your next move would be. You could see Jesse’s anger starting to fade, replaced by embarrassment, or was that shame? Hanzo just looked pleased, though curious. Dean had the gall to look anything but apologetic, instead, he looked angry. You couldn’t tell who the anger was directed at. You didn’t care.
You looked up, meeting Jesse’s gaze and nodded. “Let him go, Jesse, he isn’t worth your time. I need help getting to my rooms and Angela wants you to keep an eye on me again. Not that I need it, but doctors orders.” You shrugged, refusing to look down and meet Dean’s gaze. He didn’t deserve it, not after all he did to you.
It had taken you a while to realise just how much Dean had been manipulating you, how much of your daily life he interfered in, how many relationships he had set up to crumble, all under the guise of wanting you to be safe and happy. It was all too similar to Jeremy. And you’d had enough of it.
Jesse smiled and quickly let go of Dean, letting him fall to the floor with a thump. “Yes, ma’am.” There was a glint in his eyes, you couldn’t place it, but it didn’t go unnoticed. “How’re you feelin’, darlin’?” He asked, reaching out to brush his fingers against your lower back. He was trying to piss off Dean now.
You patted his shoulder, frowning. “Don’t instigate, Jesse. Let’s go.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Dean hissed, scrambling to his feet and lunging forward to grab your arm.
You turned, shifting your weight onto your good leg, and swinging the crutch around, smacking Dean hard in the face, possibly breaking his nose. Anger bubbled up in you as you looked down at him, meeting his surprised gaze. Blood was gushing from his nose. Good.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Dean,” you growled, returning the crutch to your underarm and leaning against it. “You don’t get to do that, not after what you’ve done. I trusted you, and you took that trust and used it to manipulate me.” Gibson’s words floated back to you from three years ago, ‘That asshole doesn’t deserve you, Bri.’ Tears began to gather in your eyes. “We’re done, Dean. I’ll leave your shit in a box by my door. You can collect it tomorrow. Athena, please remove Dean Rose’s access to my room. He’s not to be let in under any circumstances.”
“Yes, of course, Miss Marsh,” the AI responded, sounding all too pleased with your command. You wondered briefly if Athena was hiding more than you had originally thought. You brushed away the thought.
“Go and get an emitter from Angela for that nose,” you said cooly, ignoring the look on Jesse’s face - the man looked about ready to kiss you, and that bothered you at the moment. “Make sure to tell her how and why you got it.” You were shaking slightly by the time you turned around and began hobbling toward the elevator, keenly aware of Jesse’s presence by your side, Hanzo trailing behind.
Inside the elevator, you leaned against him, closing your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle, though you didn’t find anything funny. “Gods that felt good,” you murmured, adjusting your grip on the crutch.
“Yeah?” Jesse asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Good. There’s nothing wrong with that.” His arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you against his warm side. “I’m proud of you.”
“For what, breaking his nose? Yeah, I’m kinda proud of that too, didn’t think I could aim that well with a fucking crutch,” you said, opening your eyes to look up at him. His gaze was warm, his smile soft, and it kind of made you melt a bit into his side.
Jesse laughed, shaking his head as he glanced over at Hanzo. “Well, that too. But I’m proud of you because you stood up for yourself, don’t think I never noticed your reactions that night, how you just let Dean push you around without sayin’ anything. But you stood up for yourself today, and you’ve been doing a lot better with your confidence.”
You blushed and looked away. You hadn’t realised it, but being here had changed you more than you had expected. It seemed mostly for the better.
You still didn’t like taking compliments, though.
“Yeah, well, he deserved it,” you murmured, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.
Jesse chuckled, rubbing your shoulder. “That he did, darlin’, that he did.”
Your quarters were quiet, save for the steady trickle of Piddie’s water dispenser, and the air smelled faintly of lavender. On the coffee table sat a vase of red roses, which made you groan in frustration. You didn’t have to read the card attached to know exactly who they were from.
Peeling yourself away from Jesse’s side, you hobbled over to the vase and picked the flowers up by the stems, not caring that the thorns dug into your palms. You were already numb enough to not really feel it anyway. With a huff, you stalked over to the trash can, dripping water from the stems, and dropped the flowers into the trash.
“Remind me to never get you roses,” Jesse chuckled, bending over to examine the card. He frowned. Yeah, they were definitely from Dean.
“Alright,” you said, shrugging as you played along. “Roses are overdone. I like lilies better anyway, they’re much more elegant.” You managed a smile as you limped back over to the coffee table, taking the card from Jesse’s hands and ripping it in half. You didn’t want to read what was inside. You were done with all that. “Specifically blue calla lilies, if that matters.”
Jesse grinned down at you, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ll keep that in mind, sugar.” He cocked his head. “So, what do you have planned tonight, sweetpea? Obviously you can’t be up on your feet for too long, one of us can run and grab something to eat if you’d like,” he said, gesturing back to Hanzo who was currently preoccupied with your cat. His attention was quickly diverted to you, however, and the look in his eyes when he met your gaze was… curious, and warmer than it usually was.
“Well,” you murmured, looking away and back up to Jesse. You found you were too tired to really be bothered that Hanzo was staying as well. “I was planning on taking a shower or something to get all this blood out of my hair, but Angela said something about keeping the wounds dry… So I guess I’ll settle for some cake and a nap.”
Jesse scratched the back of his head, quiet for a second. “If, uh, if you’re comfortable enough with the idea, I could help you out with that shower bit,” he offered, looking more like a shy teenager than a full-grown adult man.
You cocked your head, thinking. Well, he’d already gotten you with your pants off, but that was a completely different step than seeing you naked. Sighing, you leaned onto the crutch, running your fingers through your nasty hair. Yeah, that needed to get washed. Today. “Fine,” you said, consenting. “But only the hair. You already got your panty shot earlier today.”
Jesse blushed at that, grinning widely. “Yes ma’am.”
Hanzo chuckled. “I take it I’m on cake duty, then. Any requests?” There was a mirth in his eyes, and a quirk in his lips that you’d never seen before.
It suddenly dawned on you that you were being a burden. You were stealing his boyfriend away, making him go out and do things for you, imposing on their lives. You took a step back from Jesse, any semblance of a smile gone, and shook your head. “N-Nevermind on the cake, I can-I can go and get it myself. And… don’t worry about the shower thing, I-”
“Briallen,” Hanzo cut in, surprising you. You’d never heard him call you anything but ‘Miss Marsh’. His smile had faded, but he wasn’t angry. Instead, his brows were drawn together in concern, his lips pulled taut in a sympathetic frown. “We want to help you. You’re injured, you’re mourning, you need the help. Let us help you.”
You hesitated, feeling a sudden swell of emotion rise up. You fought against it as well as you could, trying to keep the tears from your eyes. He was right, of course, if either of them left you knew you’d be a puddle of tears and sadness, unable to really do anything but cry. ‘ There’s nothing wrong with accepting help, ’ you reminded yourself, trying to put some of the things your therapist had taught you into action.
“Okay,” you finally managed, your throat constricting a bit. “Carrot, uh, carrot cake would be nice. But any… any cake will do. Thank you, Hanzo.” You were able to give him a tiny smile, even as a few tears leaked down your cheeks, which you quickly wiped away.
The corners of his lips quirked up, but he still looked concerned. “Okay. I will be back with that shortly.”
His gaze turned up to Jesse, they exchanged a look you couldn’t quite place, and Jesse nodded, placing a hand behind your back. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get you cleaned up.”
By the time Hanzo had made it back to her quarters, about an hour had passed. He came in to find Jesse curled up around her on the couch, threading his fingers through her damp hair while she slept. She’d changed into what looked like a pair of fleece pajamas, and Hanzo had to wonder if she’d required help doing so. It can’t have been comfortable getting changed with those wounds. But, then, she’d seemed so hesitant to let them in for a little while there, that he doubted she asked Jesse for help, even with how comfortable she’d seemed to be around him.
Jesse looked up when Hanzo set the cake down, smiling and stretching his neck out for a kiss. “She’s out like a light,” he murmured, chuckling softly, but the smile didn’t stay long. “She broke down in the bedroom, I could hear her from out here. I was just waiting for it to happen, too, she was holdin’ that in for so long…” He frowned and went quiet, brushing his fingers against the gauze on her cheek.
“No emitters?” Hanzo asked, a little surprised. From what he knew of Angela, she’d never let anyone get away without using one for wounds that bad.
“Nah, she, uh, says she don’t mind the scars. Mentioned somethin’ about her friend,” Jesse looked down at her, gaze riddled with concern. “I think she’s tryin’ to punish herself for it. ‘Specially with the scars it's gonna leave across her face.”
Hanzo hummed softly, looking down at her as well. He couldn’t quite label what he felt for her yet. It had been more of an intrigue in the beginning, just wanting to know what about this woman could have possibly attracted Jesse’s attention like that. She’d looked so plain from afar, so… normal. But now he’d seen so many sides of her over the past month, especially today, that he thought he was starting to understand. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Jesse, especially in how bubbly she seemed to be, but in moments like this, he felt a keen understanding of what she was going through, and he wanted to help. For his sake or for hers, he couldn’t tell. Not yet.
“You two look cute,” he finally said, mustering a small smile at Jesse’s excited little puppy eyes. “She complements you well. You two are going to be so mischievous… What caught your attention?” he asked, settling down on the arm of the couch.
“Hmm? Oh, well, uh,” Jesse chuckled, returning to running his fingers through her hair. “Now, don’t laugh at me, but it was that first day. On the phone? She was quick as a whip, relayin’ all that info to me as if she’d done it a million times, and the way she kept her cool? Whew. And then rushin’ in all heroic-like to save her, only to find she’d already taken down a couple of those Arachnid goons? Shoot, I coulda sworn she was an undercover agent of some kind!” He smiled softly, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Oooh, and the venom in her eyes when I teased her comin’ into the hideout? I knew she was a keeper.”
“She does have a nice pair of fangs on her,” Hanzo remarked, chuckling softly. “You’ve always had a thing for women who could easily tear you apart at the drop of a hat.”
“Comes with the job, I suppose. Couldn’t find many shy demure women back in Blackwatch, or Deadlock for that matter. But she’s… softer ‘n all of that. Kinder than a lot of women I’ve known…” Jesse tilted his head back, looking straight up at Hanzo with a smile. “I can’t wait until you really get to know her, Han.”
Hanzo chuckled again, brushing back the cowboy’s bangs. “I believe I’ve already begun that process.”
“And?” Jesse’s eyes were hopeful, his entire face lighting up with one of those smiles again.
Hanzo simply shook his head, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss. “We shall still have to see.”
Chapter 14: Much Abuzz About Nothing
Chapter Text
It took a week for the scars to form. They weren’t too terrible looking, thanks to Angela, but they were there. It was a shock every time you looked in the mirror, seeing those scars born so prominently across your cheek, the nicks in your ear that would never grow back. You didn’t mind the scars on your body, they weren’t as bad. They served as a reminder of what you’d lost, what you’d sacrificed because you hadn’t been strong enough, what you would never let happen again. You often found yourself running the pads of your fingers over the rough skin when you were lost in thought, and the action always brought Gibson to mind. Eventually, you’d stopped crying.
In the span of that week, Jesse hardly ever left your side. He made you food, he brought you drinks, he brought you flowers once, those blue calla lilies you’d told him you liked. You don’t know how he got them, they were entirely out of season. But you appreciated the gestures, the way he fretted and fawned over you. It made you smile, and that was one of the things you had needed most.
You also appreciated the quiet moments when he wasn’t around. You loved Jesse, he was a great friend, but he could be loud and boisterous, which you couldn’t handle all the time. Hanzo was a good companion during those quiet times. He was still a mystery to you, you didn’t know why he was so adamant about helping you, but you grew to like his presence. It took you a few precious days, but you eventually got the hang of his humour, enough so that you were able to coerce a chuckle out of him a few times.
And then, one night, it happened. It was some ungodly hour in the morning and you’d just woken from the nightmare, the one you would carry with you for a while to come. You’d woken sobbing, searching for the scent of cigars, whiskey, and that very particular cologne Jesse had started wearing, and instead found sandalwood, cherry blossoms, and sake as fingers wrapped gently around yours.
You looked up in surprise, meeting the gaze of those dark, concerned eyes, and paused, hesitating. You hadn’t expected it to be Hanzo who came rushing to your side, hadn’t expected the touch - he’d kept a respectable distance from you compared to his boyfriend - but none of it was unwelcome.
He was crouched beside you on the couch, gently holding one of your hands in his. He looked about as surprised at his actions as you were, but the surprise melted into a knowing, determined look. Moving slowly, he sat you up and sat down next to you on the couch, pulling you against his chest, gently smoothing your hair down. “Shh, Hachi, it is going to be okay,” he murmured.
It took you a second to realise what was going on, but the moment you did, you melted into it, clutching at his shirt. You let him wrap an arm around you, shuddering as a sob wracked through your body. “I saw it again,” you managed, squeezing your eyes shut.
“I know,” he said quietly, leaning back against the arm of the couch so he was almost laying back, but not quite. He’d held you there for the rest of the night, soothing you back to sleep with some old tune that he hummed for a while. You suspected it was some Japanese lullaby. Ever since that night, he’d seemed more open with you, looser in a sense. He certainly smiled a lot more around you.
Now, another week later, you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the neck of your turtleneck. You looked somber in the black turtleneck and dark gray trousers, but it was a funeral, after all. Jack had finally given the okay for the funeral under the guise that the cause of Gibson’s death had been a wolf attack in the Epping Forest. To some degree, it was true, but it was still going to hurt to lie to his parents.
You found your fingers trailing over the scars on your cheek again, your eyes beginning to tear up. ‘ It shouldn’t have happened like this… ’
“You’re still gorgeous,” Jesse’s voice rang out from the doorway, and you looked up to meet his gaze through the mirror. “The scars just make you look a mite more dangerous.” He was smiling sadly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Unlike you, Jesse wasn’t dressed for the funeral; his red flannel and jeans would stick out like a sore thumb. That was okay, though. Jesse had an op that was scheduled to run while you were gone, so he wasn’t going to be able to come with you.
You managed a weak smile, dropping your hand. “I never wanted to look dangerous. It’s going to scare Mr. and Mrs. Knight.” Your smile faded. “At least I look better than Gibs did.”
Jesse frowned and came over, gently resting his hands on your shoulders. “Don’t go carrying around his death like this, darlin’. It ain’t healthy. You did the best you could.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” you sighed, shaking your head and beginning to pin your hair up. You wanted to look nice for this, not only was it your best friend’s funeral, but it was going to be rather fancy. Gibson’s parents had a lot of money, enough so that the family had its own graveyard. The funeral itself was planned to take place in their enormous house, and was supposed to be more like a party to celebrate his life rather than mourn over his death. A somber party, but a party nonetheless.
You finished your hair and moved to slip into your bathroom to touch up your makeup, noting how Jesse’s gaze followed you. He sported that stupid grin of his again. “What’s on your mind, Jesse?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from him to meet your face in the mirror. Maybe you could cover those scars… Hana knew more about makeup than you did, maybe she could help you. Did you have time to have her beat your face before you had to leave?
“Nothin, darlin’, just admiring the view,” he said, chuckling to himself.
You frowned and rolled your eyes. You didn’t mind it so much, he’d been doing it more often these days. You figured it was okay as long as he didn’t actually hit on you. “One of these days Hanzo’s going to catch you doing that, you know.”
Jesse actually laughed at that. “Maybe, but he don’t mind.”
You raised an eyebrow, pausing. “Is that so?” you asked, watching him curiously as he came over to stand in the bathroom’s doorway and looked down at you. He looked amused at how skeptical you looked.
“True as can be, sweetpea. He don’t mind a hoot, reckon I’ve even found him doin’ it a few times himself,” he said, cocking his head at you. Despite his smile, his eyes were sharp, watching as if to gauge your reaction. “Neither of us mind.” There was an unspoken question at the end, one that made you flush; “Do you?”
Your eyes widened and you looked away, clearing your throat. “Well, that’s, um, that’s good that you two trust each other that much,” you said, quickly setting to putting your makeup away. You had a gut feeling about the conversation that would happen if you probed further and you weren’t sure you were ready for that right now, not with Gibson’s funeral today, not with the procedure coming up, not with so much on your mind. “It’s admirable. I’m… I’m glad your relationship is that strong.”
“Briallen, am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, leaning back a bit as if to give you some space. “Because if I am, you are allowed to tell me to take a hike.”
“What? No, I’m.. I-you don’t,” you struggled to get the words out, a makeup brush still clutched in one hand. Emotion bubbled up in your chest, too much to keep everything in, and it frustrated you. “I just, I-I get the feeling you’re about to ask me something really important, something that I can’t answer right now because I’m-I’m not in the right headspace, like, I can’t even name all of my emotions right now, it’s all just a muddled mess and I don’t even know if I’m worth it-”
“You are more than worth it, Briallen,” Jesse interrupted, frowning as he shook his head. He could see the frustrated tears that had begun to line your eyes and he sighed, opening up his arms in an invitation. “C’mere, doll.”
You paused, hesitant for just a second, before you set the makeup brush down and slowly pressed yourself against his chest. It was as warm and pleasant as always, and with the added weight of his arms resting on your shoulders, some of the anxiety had begun to fade.
“I don’t ever want to hear you sayin’ you ain’t worth it, baby,” he murmured, warm breath ruffling your hair a bit. “I understand if you need some time, there’s no rush, but I don’t want you to make a decision off the concept that you might not be worth it, cuz you are.” He pulled away a bit, curling a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him. “Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” you said, searching his gaze. Your eyes drifted down to his lips, noting the way they curved into a frown. They looked soft. The edges quirked up a bit and you looked up to find him watching you, amused.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he asked quietly, his thumb brushing against your jawline, the callouses dragging against your skin and making you shiver. “I can see those wheels turning in those pretty eyes of yours, darlin’.”
“Nothing,” you lied. It wouldn’t hurt, right? He was already offering… something. Would a single kiss seal that? You wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked…
Jesse chuckled, a rumbling sound that rolled through his chest. “You’re gonna look at me with those doe eyes and that little pout and tell me there’s nothin’ goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”
Were you pouting? You hadn’t meant to. This was dangerous, teetering on the edge of a precipice with a long fall you couldn’t climb back up from. But you wanted to know what was down there, what was on the other side. Would it mess up your lipstick? Maybe. Would it mess up your friendship? You suspected that had long since changed. You knew for a fact that most friendships weren’t like this. Maybe you were already in the deep end and you just hadn’t realised it yet. If he was already suggesting what you thought he was, you definitely had already jumped in the pool.
One kiss couldn’t hurt, you reasoned, eyes flicking back down to his lips. “How… How much does Hanzo mind?” you asked quietly, cheeks flushing as you pushed yourself up to stand on your tiptoes. Even still, he was going to have to bend his head a bit for this to work, he was so much taller than you.
A slow grin spread across Jesse’s face and he dipped his head, coming just close enough to tease. “I think that depends on how much you’re talkin’ about, sugar,” he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.
‘ If that wasn’t an invitation, I don’t know what is… ’ Tentatively reaching up, your fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck, pulse hammering in your ears. Were you really going to do this?
Yes, yes you were.
You gently tugged his head down a bit, dragging him down into a kiss that he quickly smiled into. He was gentle with you, the hand on your chin shifting to lightly cup your cheek and the other sliding down to your lower back to help keep you up on your toes. It was a much softer kiss than you had anticipated and it left you feeling tingly when he pulled away all too quickly. Your calves burned a bit.
He grinned down at you, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “I don’t think he’d mind that,” he rumbled, pressing a light kiss to the top of your nose. “I didn’t either.”
You smiled softly, twirling a strand of his hair around your fingers. “I don’t think I did either,” you said. Maybe you’d be more okay with this than you thought.
He chuckled, and for a second, you thought he was going to kiss you again, but he tilted his chin up and kissed your forehead instead, his beard tickling your nose. “As much as I’d like to keep doing that, you have a train to catch, my dear,” he said, letting you sink back down from the tips of your toes. “Is your bag packed?”
You were a bit disappointed when he pulled away, but he had a point. You needed to get going. Shaking your head, you quickly returned to putting away your makeup. “Not yet. I just need to pack my makeup and a few other things. It’s not much, but I’m only going to be gone for a couple of days.” You looked up and smiled as Piddie came running into the bathroom, carrying a little toy mouse in his mouth.
He dropped it on the counter beside you, purring as he sat back.
“Aww, look at you, my little hunter,” you cooed, reaching forward to pet the top of his head. “Are you going to be good for me while I’m gone? Going to be nice for Jesse?”
“Don’t worry about it, darl, I’m sure he’ll be an angel,” Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. “Now, come on! You’re gonna miss your train!”
You quickly finished packing your bag, making sure you had enough books to last you a couple of days at the estate. You wouldn’t be alone, but you would have plenty of free time after the celebration as you had promised you’d stay a few days when Gibson’s parents had offered. Angela had thought it would be good for you to take another week off to help with the grieving process, but you knew she really had pushed this because you’d hardly left your room that first week and she wanted you to get out.
“Hachi, are we ready to go?” Hanzo called, poking his head into your bedroom as you finished zipping up your bag. He was dressed in a nice, crisp suit that somehow made him look a lot more aristocratic than you had expected, though, surprisingly, his tie was a bit crooked.
You chuckled a bit to yourself; Hanzo had always seemed so put together that it made it strange to see even one piece of him out of line. Swallowing the grin that threatened to sprout on your lips, you rolled your bag over to the door, stopping in front of him. “I am, but your tie is all crooked,” you said softly, reaching up to fix it. It was silk, which didn’t surprise you. “Do you have everything packed?” you asked, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He was looking down at you in surprise, as if he had expected anything but for you to come up and get so close. But he was smiling, even leaned a bit forward to make it easier for you. “ Arigato , Hachi, I had not noticed. And yes, I do. Are you sure you want me to come with you? I am sure there are plenty of agents who would be more than happy-”
“Do you not want to come?” you asked, admittedly pouting a bit as you looked down at his tie, smoothing it back down against his chest. “I would like you to come, but you can say no if you’d rather stay here.”
Jesse snickered, behind you and Hanzo tossed him a look before turning back to you, laying a gentle hand over yours.
“If you want me to come with you, then I shall. I just thought you would rather have Lena or Hana with you,” he offered, his brows furrowing a bit.
Your fingers wrapped loosely around the silk, playing with the fabric a bit. You had to admit, you had originally wanted one of the girls to come with you, but they were both going to be busy this week. Not to say you didn’t want Hanzo to come with, he was nice to have around. Who knew, maybe you’d be able to make him laugh more while you were gone. It always felt like such an achievement to make him laugh, he was so grumpy all the time, and you liked his laugh.
“I know,” you said finally, fixing the tie in place before pulling your hands from under his. “But I thought it’d be… nice to have you there. Who knows what could have gone wrong with those two, Lena could have charmed everyone too much, Hana might have started livestreaming the whole thing,” you chuckled a bit, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “...I don’t know what I’m getting at.”
Hanzo smiled a bit, a small, careful smile. “It’s okay, Hachi, I think I do. I would be more than happy to accompany you.”
Jesse chuckled. “Just don’t expect him to be much of a people pleaser.”
Hanzo frowned, rolling his eyes. “Come on, we’re going to miss our train.”
She was pretty in a somber way, sitting there on the train with her legs crossed down at the ankle, a book perched in her hands. Her hair was parted in a way that let a few strands fall delicately into her face, though she didn’t seem to mind, and her lips puckered ever so slightly whenever she came across a phrase she had to read again or a word she was unfamiliar with. The sunlight filtered in through the window, playing against her cheeks and illuminating her hair. She sat with an almost perfect posture even while hunched over her book, and it occurred to Hanzo that he’d never really seen her slouch.
It also occurred to him that he’d been watching her for too long, and she had noticed.
A smile played across her lips as she glanced up, light catching her eyes and making their honey-glazed depths glow softly. She didn’t look up all the way though, letting her gaze drift back down to the words on the pages in front of her. “You’re staring,” she pointed out, a mirth bouncing in the lilt of her voice. “Is there something on my face?”
For once, Hanzo found himself flushing slightly. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from the woman across from him. “No, of course not. My apologies.”
She chuckled then, tapping her nails against the hard cover of her book. “It’s interesting, the differences between you and Jesse. Refreshing, in a way. Sometimes it seems like you two are complete opposites.”
He raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze on the passing trees and fields. “Is that right? How so?”
“Well, for one, Jesse was far from shy when I confronted him about his staring this morning. I swear the fact that I knew made it more fun for him. But you,” she cocked her head a bit as she looked up at him, “seem almost embarrassed to have been caught.”
“You’re enjoying this,” he countered, offering her a small smile. “As much as you don’t seem to like accepting compliments, you do enjoy the attention. You can play coy all you’d like, but that is quite obvious. Otherwise you would have stopped this long ago.”
She shrugged, shifting in her seat to switch which leg was crossed over and which was crossed under. The compartment was quiet for a few moments before she closed her book and looked out the window. “Jesse suggested something interesting this morning. Well, he didn’t really say it out loud, it was more implied.”
“That does sound like him,” Hanzo chuckled. “He likes to think he’s being secretive, but he is so expressive it is hard not to see the underlying message.”
She went quiet again, and when Hanzo turned to steal a glance, he found her watching him, honey-brown eyes giving away nothing. “I still need time to think about it, but I wanted to know what you think. After all, you are pivotal in this whole thing.”
He paused, watching her and waiting for any sign of what she was thinking, but it seemed like she’d gotten better at hiding her thoughts. Letting out a little huff, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “Jesse has been smitten with you ever since you two met-”
“I know what Jesse thinks,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “He hasn’t really done much to hide it. I want to know about you.”
He raised an eyebrow, giving her a slightly disapproving look before he continued. “As I was saying, Jesse has been smitten with you ever since he met you, which is not something that happens often… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about you, Hachi, but I don’t quite know if it is in the same way Jesse does. As of now, I would not be comfortable if we started dating, I don’t know you well enough for that.” He swore he saw her deflate a bit and, for some reason, that stung him. “But, I won’t say the same for Jesse. If you two want to go out, I won’t stop you. I trust Jesse, and I trust you. Just as long as you don’t break him.”
He saw her perk a bit at that, watched the slow grin spread across her lips, touching her eyes. He had started to joke around a bit more around her, which was a surprise to him. He suspected it was something about her smile, like Jesse’s it was often a lot more than just a smile. She hadn’t done it a lot recently, and they had become increasingly rare during the past two weeks, so seeing it now made him… happy.
“I can promise I won’t break him, but I can’t promise he won’t break himself,” she said, looking down at the floor, bashful. It was almost as if she hadn’t wanted to admit her attraction to Jesse, even though it was so painfully obvious.
Hanzo chuckled. “He won’t break himself. Believe it or not, the one most prone to breakage out of the three of us is you, Hachi. You’ve got to learn to be careful, put to work those skills Rose taught you. You’re small, you’ve got to stop trying to fight bigger than you are.”
She leaned back, recrossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. “I’m not so sure I’m actually any good at fighting,” she admitted, frowning. “I’m certainly not strong enough.”
“No, but you are sneaky. You can be very quiet when you want to be, sometimes you’ve even surprised me with those silent footsteps of yours. No, you aren’t built for melee combat like Jesse, but you could be a good stealth operative. You’ve just got to learn how to fight dirty.”
Her eyes widened and she looked over at him in surprise, a little smirk on her lips. “You surprise me, Hanzo. I half expected you to tell me to find some honourable way to fight.”
“Hah. Well, honour isn’t everything, Hachi.” He shook his head, grinning slightly over at her before he looked back out the window. They still had at least an hour until they made it to the Knight’s estate. “I learned that a some time ago.”
The estate was as big as you remembered it being. You’d only been there a few times, Christmases, mostly. The Knights always had this wonderful Christmas party that was, admittedly, meant for business deals and keeping good relations with partnerships, but Mariam, Gibson’s mother, had always made sure you and the triplets felt welcome as well. During those times, the estate had always felt so warm and full of life. Now, it was dark and loomed down at you, it’s many windows watching you and judging, as if it had known what you’d done.
You tipped the cabbie, thanking him for his service, and turned to Hanzo as his little car puttered off. “Well, here we are,” you murmured, fighting the urge to run your fingers over your scar. You shouldn’t do that, not now, not here. “I think you’ll like it here. It’ll suit your sophisticated taste.”
He smiled a bit, reaching over to lay his hand on your shoulder. “Deep breaths, Hachi,” he said, giving it a soft squeeze. “You can do this.”
Swallowing the lump that threatened to rise in your throat, you nodded and turned back to the estate. There was a flurry of motion from the family room windows and a few seconds later, two young girls, nearly fourteen, dressed in black lace dresses came scurrying out of the house. They held their skirts clutched in their hands as they ran, something entirely uncouth for the two, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them.
“Aunt Bri! Aunt Bri! I can’t believe you’ve made it! You disappeared for ever so long! We were beginning to think you’d disappeared off the face of the earth!” one of them called, almost tackling you in a hug while the other hung back. The two girls looked almost nothing alike; one of them was tall and lanky, all elbows and angles, something she would grow into, her hair was a beautiful brown and she had hazel-green eyes that you knew all too well. It wasn’t hard to see the familial resemblance. The other girl had darker skin and a fuller frame for her age, her black hair pulled back into a pretty braid that fell across her shoulder, her green eyes glittered with a keen wit as she beamed up at you.
You chuckled, wrapping your arms around the taller of the two. “Poppy, Lyra, how wonderful to see you two again!” you said, brushing back some of Poppy’s wild brown hair. “I’m sorry I haven’t kept in contact, these past few months have been a nightmare.”
When Poppy pulled away, Lyra quickly took her place. Her hug was gentler, but it held more emotion. Lyra had always been exceptionally fond of you, she had wanted you and Gibson to get married. Not that it was that likely to happen, but she was always going on about how dearly she wished you were her sister as well.
“Who is your friend?” Lyra asked, folding her hands neatly in front of her as she looked curiously up at Hanzo. “Gibson never mentioned any boyfriends.”
“What’s with the new scar?” Poppy added, peering up at you in awe. “It looks bloody dangerous!”
You flushed and chuckled nervously, but you tried not to let it phase you. “You girls never waste any time with the questions do you? Poppy, Lyra, this is my…” You looked to Hanzo, unsure of how to describe your precarious relationship. It felt like an insult to call you friends, but he’d already stated he’d feel uncomfortable dating you on the train.
“Partner,” he said, hand finding its way to the back of your neck where it gave a little squeeze, almost causing you to flinch. You hadn’t realised how tense you were. “Shimada Hanzo. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Poppy cocked her head. “What do you mean by partner?”
Lyra giggled softly, giving her sister a light nudge. “That means he’s a special friend,” she whispered, causing Poppy to giggle too.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough you two. Knowing you lot, you’ll keep these two poor souls out here in the cold all day! Off with you now, git!” called a voice and a hardy young woman came hurrying down the path from the greenhouse. She waved her hands playfully at the two girls and they scurried off in a flurry of giggles, back into the warmth of the estate. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Briallen Marsh, didn’t expect you around here until Christmas time,” she said, smiling widely up at you.
“It’s lovely to see you as well, Nora,” you chuckled, playing with your fingers. You remembered the gardener well, she was a cheerful woman, full of vim and vigour, ready to deck someone over a bush trimmed wrong, yet she always got along with everyone. You never knew how she did that.
“Oh, come off it, dear,” she scoffed, pulling you into a warm hug as well. “It’s bloody brilliant to see you. Wished you’d come around more often before. It’s such a chore keeping those two busy, they’re always terrorising my plants. Their au pair’s trying to keep them out of the house as much as possible nowadays, says it helps with the grieving process.” She grimaced a bit at that, shaking her head. “It might do them good, but not my poor gardens.”
“Oh, Nora, don’t look so grim. Your plants have always been like hydras, one broken stem always led to the growth of two new ones. I’m sure whatever damage my girls have done, your plants will flourish growing back from.”
You peered over Nora’s shoulder to see an older woman, somewhere in her late forties, walking down the path towards you.
Mariam gave you a small, sad smile as she approached. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying recently. That didn’t surprise you, this was her son’s funeral after all. “Hello, Briallen, dear,” she said, taking your hands into hers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s so very nice to see you again. It’s such a shame it had to be under such… circumstances.” Her gaze drifted down to your cheek and she pursed her lips a bit. “I take it that was from the attack?” she asked, looking back up into your eyes.
You sighed, nodding. “Yes. I was lucky to get away with as few injuries as I did. I was lucky the ranger had gotten there when he did,” you said, a lump forming in your throat as you said this. Mariam had been such a sweet woman, opening her arms and her home to you when you’d first met her, so down on your luck, you hated having to lie to her, hated being the reason her son wouldn’t come home for the holidays. “I’m so-” the words caught in your throat and tears pooled in your eyes.
She nodded, patting the tops of your hands in understanding. “Thank you, Briallen. It means so much to me that you’re here. I know you loved him as well.” She reached up and patted your unscarred cheek, giving you a small smile before she turned to Hanzo. “Now, where are my manners. You must be the agent Mr. Morrison was so kind to send. It is very nice to meet you, Shimada-san. Won’t you two please come in for a spot of tea? We have quite some time until the funeral truly starts.”
You gaped, astonished, and nearly punched Hanzo for the stupid grin he gave you. “You know?!” you asked, your voice a loud stage-whisper.
There was amusement in Mariam’s eyes as she smiled demurely up at you and nodded. “Darling, I’ve known for quite some time.”
Chapter 15: No Legacy Is So Rich As Honey
Chapter Text
You cradled the teacup in your hands, letting the porcelain warm your chilled fingers. The tea was delicious, expensive, but delicious, and the tea cakes were amazing as well. It all felt like a bribe, like a distraction meant to ease your frustrations. It worked.
Mariam was seated across from you, looking absolutely regal in her plush chair. There was a hint of amusement in her eyes, possibly at your current state of confusion and shock. Her husband stood behind the chair, sucking on a pipe as he looked out the study window. Always in a fine suit, his graying black hair smoothed down with expensive scented gels, Mister Dominik Knight had always cut an imposing figure, never looking anything less than the gentleman his paycheck portrayed him to be. Nevertheless, he had greeted you with a warm, saddened smile, giving you a hug for the first time in the five years you’d known him when you’d arrived.
“More tea, dear?” Mariam asked, gesturing to the teapot.
“Uh, no, thank you though,” you said, shaking your head.
The study was quiet, waiting for you to speak. You knew the Knights wouldn’t, not until you’d asked the right questions first.
“How, um, how long have you known?” you asked, delicately setting your teacup down, finding yourself quickly missing the comforting heat of the cup in your hands.
“Ah, Briallen, you must be more concise than that,” Dominik chuckled, puffing out a ring of sweet-scented smoke. “After all, there are many things we know.”
You frowned. “Okay, how long have you known about Overwatch. The rebirth, me, what happened to Gibson…”
“We’ve known about the rebirth of Overwatch practically since the day it was commenced,” Mariam said, pouring herself another cup. “Before the PETRAS act, we were helping to fund Overwatch, and, now, afterwards, we are doing so again. We were one of the first families they contacted, and we were delighted to help refund them again, weren’t we Dominik, dear?”
He nodded. “Of course! It is sad that there were no more tax refunds for the donations, but we are happy to help however we can! Now, you, dear, are another story. We had an inkling of what job you had taken on when Gibson had told us you moved and probably wouldn’t be coming back for Christmas. We knew you couldn’t have moved that far and to disappear so quickly, it was handiwork we’ve seen before.”
“We learned about Gibson the day Mr. Morrison called us,” Mariam said, looking sadly down at her cup. “He’d expressed his sincerest condolences, he hadn’t realised Gibson was our boy, you see. He said if he’d known he would have called a lot sooner. That information, dear, that he was trying to smuggle out, did it ever make it?”
You had to smile softly at that and nodded. “Yeah, uh, it did. Son of a bitch slipped the drive into my pocket before we were ambushed, probably figured it’d be safer with me.” You played with your fingers, feeling the familiar tingle in your nose that you squashed down. Talking about Gibson made you feel… wrong. You didn’t like it. “So, he didn’t… he didn’t die for nothing. We’re putting that info to use now. Arachnid is going to pay for what they did.”
Mariam nodded, her expression grim. “Good. I’m not normally one who puts their stock in revenge, but after what they did to my boy I wouldn’t mind seeing a bit of it in my life.”
You nodded again. “I’m… I’m sorry about lying to you, I hadn’t known that you knew and that’s what I was briefed to say-”
“It’s alright, dear, we understand,” Mariam assured you, shaking her head. “Now, are the girls going to be alright?”
“Poppy and Lyra should be fine, I know the security around here is amazing. They also weren’t tied directly to me, so they shouldn’t be on Arachnid’s hitlist. It’s the triplets I’m worried about,” you confessed, wringing your fingers again. “They were in constant contact with Gibs and myself, which makes them a juicy target in Arachnid’s eyes. I’m planning on convincing them to move into a safe house in London, at least until this Arachnid business is sorted.”
Mariam’s eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not going to go down well with them. Those three have always valued their freedom, especially Caelen. They’re going to feel like you’re caging them in.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing. “I know. But, I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let them go back to Washington, it’s too far, assigning them guards is going to be a no-go because we don’t have the resources. I can’t let them get hurt. I already failed once.”
“Briallen, it wasn’t your fault. No one blames you for this,” Dominick said, frowning over at you. “We certainly don't.”
“While that’s nice to hear, Mr. Knight, I can’t agree with you on that. Gibson’s safety was my responsibility and I... failed. But I won’t let that happen again. I have plans in motion to ensure that it never happens again.” You stood, smoothing down your turtleneck and draining the last of the tea from your cup. “Now, I have to go make sure my… partner isn’t dying out there in the family room. We left him alone with the girls and I don’t know how well he does with children.”
The triplets arrived late, as usual, and took their time greeting everyone but you first. Which you’d made sure of, hanging out in the backyard with a glass of wine that you’d hardly touched for the past half hour. It was Sylvia who found you first, offering a hug, but understanding when you refused. You’d been touched too much today, you were getting overwhelmed. You offered her a sip of wine, which she accepted.
“You know, our mother would always offer us a watered down cup of wine on special occasions,” she said dreamily, handing the glass back to you. “I used to hate it when I was a kid, now look at me.”
You chuckled, taking another sip of it yourself. “I wish I had memories like that to think back on. Perhaps it could have made me a better person. How was your flight?”
“Boring. Iris snored the entire time. Briallen, I-”
“Of course she did, that girl could sleep through anything. Remember that storm we had that year? Sounded like the wind was trying to tear the bricks off the building, all three of us were awake and she was still sleeping like a baby.” You smiled, swirling the wine around a bit. It had a nice, dark colour to it, almost like blood. You screwed your smile in place as the memory hit you again, and looked away, trying not to think about Gibson laying there, his throat-
Syl laughed, a light titter that broke into your thoughts.. “That she was… How’ve you been, Bri? You dropped off the map, Gibs said you weren’t around anymore.”
You sighed softly, sitting down on one of the lawn chairs. The funeral hadn’t even started yet and it was already exhausting you. It was exhausting to keep up this façade, to tell everyone you were okay when you really weren’t. It was exhausting trying to figure out how one is supposed to act at a funeral, this was your first, after all. Rolling your lips, you nodded. “Yeah, well, I, um… I kind of had to… I joined Overwatch.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, alright, keep your secrets then.”
You raised your eyebrows and took a sip as you looked up at her.
“You’re… You’re not serious, are you?! Bri, how could you keep something like that from us!” she wailed, giving your shoulder a light shove.
“What’s going on out here? Bri are you bullying my baby sister?” Caelen called, grinning over at you from the doorway.
“She joined Overwatch without telling us!” Sylvia wailed again.
You cringed. “That’s kind of supposed to be a secret, Syl. Don’t go shouting it to the world!”
Caelen’s eyes widened and she paused. “What? No way, how the hell did you manage that?! Iris! Come back here! Bri’s got some great news!”
You sighed and stood, cradling the wine glass close to your chest. “Well, some great news, and some really bad news…” You waited until all three of them had come out, closing the door behind them, to continue. “While it is good news that I made it into Overwatch, it comes with some bad tidings.” And you set to explaining it, the way your interview went down, how you had to go into hiding pretty much because Arachnid had your number now, how Gibson ended up getting involved, and, finally, how you were worried about their safety.
“So, it wasn’t a wolf attack?” Sylvia asked, looking as if she needed a wine glass of her own, preferably filled to the brim.
You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t. And all this is why I want to move you guys to a safehouse in London.”
Iris’ gaze had darkened. “No.”
Your eyes widened; you had expected resistance from Caelen, but the venom in Iris’ voice took you by surprise. “I know it’s a big change, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you open in Washington, it’s too dangerous. We don’t have the resources to have someone guarding you over there either. It’s much safer for you in our London safehouse.”
Iris scoffed. “What, you think you’re so high and mighty now that you’re part of Overwatch?”
“Iris,” Caelen started, reaching out to rub her sister’s arm, but Iris pulled away.
“No, you don’t think I can’t see what’s going on? You’ve got a cushy new job saving the world from behind a holoscreen, so you think you can control our lives with a snap of your fingers?”
“Iris!” Caelen raised her voice a bit, stepping between you two. “Stop it! While I agree it’s a bit presumptuous of her to assume we’d accept this straight off the bat,” she said, eyeing you a bit before turning back to her sister, “she’s just trying to help us.”
“Like she helped Gibson?”
There was a small gasp, from who you didn’t know, probably Sylvia, and there was silence between the four of you. It hurt to hear, but it was something you’d been telling yourself so often nowadays that the sting was small, and helped cement it more in your mind.
“Iris-”
“No, she’s right,” you said, sighing and finishing off the wine. “Gibson’s death was my fault, and I have to deal with that knowledge every day. That is a guilt I will always carry on my shoulders, Iris. I don’t want the same to happen to you guys, you’re my family, just as Gibson was. I’m just trying to make sure you guys don’t get hurt because of me either.” You stood, brushing off your pants and looked up to the window where Mariam was waving you all inside. “Think it over. I’ll be here until the end of the week.” You offered a weak smile before you walked past them and slipped back into the warm embrace of the house.
It was hard to fix up a body that had had its throat and stomach torn apart. Hard enough, in fact, that the mortician hadn’t even tried with Gibson. That, or he had been told to preserve the body in the state it was brought to him in. Thus, there was no open-casket viewing, no wake to be had. Gibson’s coffin was already set up in the Knight’s graveyard, ready to be lowered into the grave next to his baby sister, Veronica, who hadn’t made it past ten. A horrible accident really, the family hated talking about it.
Shortly after the triplets had arrived and you’d talked with them, it was time to put Gibson to rest. Finally. The cold air nipped bitterly at your cheeks as you stood there, so close to Hanzo if you leaned one centimetre to the right, you’d be pressed against him. Another glass of wine was held in your hands, a prop, an item of comfort. You’d never been much of a wine drinker, but it was what the Knight’s had to offer. Mariam had seemed more accepting of you needing a glass or two, “Especially after what you’ve endured,” she’d said, and you just ignored the subtle looks from everyone else.
They hadn’t seen the things you had, hadn’t been there to hear his last words, to watch him die. If they had, you’d all have glasses of alcohol clutched in your hands and this would be a rather different party.
You watched as they lowered the coffin into the grave, only vaguely realising that you had, in fact, leaned over that one centimetre and had pressed yourself against Hanzo’s side, noting how he wrapped an arm around your waist, how you instinctively returned the gesture. You felt numb as you listened to the little speeches everyone was giving, your eyes locked on that dark prison of wood, and, then, the voices went silent. Their eyes were on you, it was your turn.
Clearing your throat, you stood up, peeling yourself from the warmth of your partner’s side, though he did not remove his arm. What were you supposed to say? How great of a guy Gibson was? He could be a real shithead when he wanted to, you remembered that time… Shaking your head, you pulled yourself back to the present. You’d figure it out as you went along.
“Gibson was… Was a brave bastard,” you said, chuckling a bit to yourself. “It takes a lot to hack into Overwatch and call for help under the watchful eyes of your kidnappers… He had a lot of hope for this world, had so much faith in others, and so, so much love.” Your voice caught in your throat and your eyes teared up.
It hit you then. This was real. For those two weeks, for what felt like the longest time, because time really does drag on when you’re grieving, you’d lived, convincing yourself this was all just a dream, that Gibson wasn’t really dead, that you would still get a vid call in the middle of the night from him excitedly blabbering on about some new tech thing or the other. But here, now, looking down at his coffin, talking about him in the past tense, it hit you.
And it hurt a lot more than you were prepared for.
That was your best friend. That was the man who had helped you start a new life. The first one to show you true, unabated kindness in the five years of your known life. The one who had helped you recover after that awful breakup, who had gotten you to realise what Jeremy was doing to you. The one who helped you move into your new apartment, who helped spur you on when you felt you couldn't go on anymore. The one who had invited you to all those Christmas parties, who made sure that you felt welcome, who made sure you felt loved. He had loved you, you knew that, but look where that love had gotten him.
That brilliantly dorky smile, that hearty laugh, those stupid fucking jokes he always made. Gone. You'd never hear him fanboy over Angela again, or hear him pester you about upgrading your laptop, or see that doofy face of his appear on the screen again.
He was gone.
“He… he, um,” you choked on your words, wiping at your eyes as your chest locked up. You were trembling, you noted, it was hard to stand. “He was my best friend… the best friend anyone could ask for and,” you let out a shuddering breath, trying hard not to break, not now, not here. But you couldn’t hold it back anymore.
You turned teary eyes up to the people gathered around the grave, met their gazes, felt their grief as well. This was your fault. You had caused this. This death, this weight, this grief was on your hands. Your friend was gone.
“I, um, I’m sorry, I-I can’t,” you muttered, disentangling yourself from Hanzo and turning away to walk briskly back to the house, still clutching that cup of wine. ‘ Get to the house, get to the house now, don’t let them see you, don’t let them hear it, just get to the house .’ A sob wrangled its way out as you stumbled, but you kept going, a hand covering your mouth. You were aware of the footsteps following, crunching the grass harshly behind you, but you didn’t care. ‘ Get to the house, get to the house, get to the house. ’
But you never made it to the house. You stumbled again, collapsing to your knees in the grass as another sob spilled out, followed by a wail. You couldn’t see through your tears, didn’t want to anyway, so the only way you knew who came up behind you and scooped you into their arms was by the familiar scent that washed over you.
You pushed at Hanzo’s chest, afraid of getting your makeup smeared all over that nice white shirt and his suit, but he was insistent, and you eventually gave in, letting him hold you there. There were no words spoken between you two, because there were no words to be said. You were grieving, and he understood that. He just held you there, hand gently rubbing your back, arms wrapped around you, letting you wail into his chest until you had tired yourself out.
When your cries had quieted into whimpers, he pulled away just enough to look down at you. “Let’s get you inside, Hachi,” he murmured, slowly moving to stand and pulling you up with him. “I’m sure it’s a lot warmer there.”
You nodded weakly, leaning against him as you walked, sniffling. Your wineglass lay forgotten and spilled into the grass behind you.
He had taken her to the room he was staying in, a nice quiet place away from everyone else where she could come down in peace. On the way there, he’d asked one of the staff if they could bring some water and mulled wine up to the room. He knew how horrible moments like this could get, he knew she was far overdue for another one. She’d held on so long, fought so hard against the truth, and he’d known it would just be a matter of time before those glass walls she had put up would shatter under the weight of the tears she stored behind them. She was going to need the wine eventually.
He sat her down on the bed and left her for just a second to neatly hang his suit jacket on the coat rack by the door. When he came back over, rolling his sleeves up as he walked, he could see the tears pooling in her eyes again and he sighed.
She hiccupped and looked up at him, giving him the most pitiful look he’d seen on her yet. The wobble in her lips gave way to a weak laugh heavy with sorrow as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes, looking away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, folding her hands tightly in her lap. “I’ve just been a burden lately… haven’t I?”
“No, Hachi, you’ve been nothing of the sort,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. She looked so much smaller sitting there on the queen-sized bed, her shoulders drawn in, her head lowered. So much smaller than usual. “Can you wait a few moments while I get a damp washcloth? We should get that makeup off, it’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
She nodded, her touch light and hesitant as she reached up and brushed her fingers against his, leaning into his palm a bit before she pulled away, wiping at her eyes again. The gesture was quick, subtle, but it was there and it made him smile.
He did as he said, slipping into the bathroom to wet a washcloth, getting just a little bit of soap on one side, and came back to find she hadn’t moved an inch. Crouching down, he gently gripped her chin to make her face him. “Close your eyes,” he murmured. He took his time with it, gently rubbing at stubborn spots of makeup, letting her feel the warm cloth against her skin.
She let out a soft sigh, obviously enjoying the touch, and visibly relaxed where she sat, leaning into the weight of his hand against her face and his fingers on her shoulder. When he pulled the washcloth away, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze for a brief second before looking down at the tie in her fingers. She frowned. “Oh, Hanzo, I- my makeup…”
“There will be other ties, Hachi,” he assured her, spotting a small smudge of makeup he’d missed. He reached up to wipe it away, and she met his eyes. There was so much emotion in that honeyed gaze of hers, so much grief, so much fear, there was so much going on in her mind it was no wonder she was having such a hard time. This was, of course, her first experience with this kind of grief, he realised. He’d almost forgotten how little she’d actually experienced in this life. In terms of experience, she was a child compared to him.
She searched his gaze thoroughly, as if she might find some answers there if she looked hard enough. Her fingertips brushed against his cheek, almost as if she was mimicking his gestures, and he expected her to drop her hand rather quickly, but it stayed, thumb tracing his cheekbone, the rest of her fingers at the edge of his facial hair. “Jesse is right. You really are too pretty sometimes,” she said quietly, listing her head to the side.
He chuckled, shaking his head and reaching up to slip his fingers between hers, loosely, so as not to startle her, and held her hand there. He knew what kind of general state she was in, now he just had to figure out if it was volatile or not. “You’ve been spending far too much time with him lately, Hachi. Jesse can be a bad influence.”
She smiled at that, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. Her fingers tightened around his and she leaned forward a bit, closing most of the distance between them. There was a tension in her eyes, a look that he recognised, but couldn’t oblige. Not yet. “No, I think he’s just the right kind of influence.”
“Only you could say that,” he said, standing slowly and slipping his hand from hers. He heard the footsteps out in the hall before they reached the door, only one pair, so he figured it was the staff he’d asked to bring the drinks. He didn’t even wait for them to knock before he called for them to come in.
There was a pause, no doubt the staff had been surprised at this, before the door swung open carefully and the staff came in with a pitcher of water, a few glasses, and a large thermos of what Hanzo suspected to be the wine all sitting neatly on a tray.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding to the table where the man could set the tray. “If you would please give Mrs. Knight our condolences. There is a chance we might not make it down for dinner.”
The man paused. “Would you like us to arrange for the meal to be brought up here?”
Hanzo looked down at Briallen, gauging her emotional state before he nodded. “If we are not there within half an hour of the start, yes. But, please, do make sure you keep a place for us in case we do.”
The staff nodded, giving a little bow before exiting the room, leaving the two to their quiet space again.
“I can see it,” she said, watching as Hanzo crossed to the tray and began pouring a glass of water for her.
“See what?” he asked, coming back over with the cup.
“You being the heir of some big mafia what-have-you. You have the right kind of air for it.”
He cringed a bit, but still managed a smile. “Well, whether I have the right kind of air for it or not, that big mafia what-have-I is in my past. Here, drink,” he said, holding the glass out to her.
She frowned, shaking her head. “I would rather have the wine.”
“Water first, Hachi. You lost a lot of it from the crying. One glass is all I ask, then you can have all the wine you want, alright?”
She fit perfectly against his side, slotted in almost like a puzzle piece. They had long since finished the thermos of wine, most of it having disappeared into her, and it was clear they would not be making tonight’s dinner. She had missed most of the party, but, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. He knew her type, had people watched long enough to notice the signs of a wallflower when he saw one. But maybe she was a bit more, more inclined to dance, less inclined to mingle. In short, she would not have been happy with the party, not with people she didn’t know, not in her current state. So, they had stayed upstairs, absently watching something on the holovid, some drama or another, in each other’s company.
‘ I’m going soft, ’ he thought, glancing down at the girl currently curled up against his side, tucked under his arm. She had her sweater sleeves pulled up to her fingers and a hand held up to her mouth in a self-soothing gesture. Her eyes were drooping, either from the wine or the exhaustion emotions tended to induce, and it was only a matter of time before she dropped off beside him.
He didn’t mind, though; he was finding himself inordinately fond of her. He was going soft for her, for her smiles, for her laughter, for her touch. Perhaps he wasn’t, as Jesse had put it, “melting just at the sound of her voice”, but he definitely was going soft.
“Do you want me to take you to your room?” he asked softly, gently rubbing his thumb against her arm, rousing her a bit.
“Hmm? Oh… no. It’s fine,” she murmured, shifting a bit to press herself more comfortably against his side, her eyelids slowly beginning to shut again.
He chuckled, looking down at her with a small grin. “Are you sure? There might be talk tomorrow,” he teased.
“Let them talk. See if I care,” she grumbled, closing her eyes.
A soft laugh rolled through him and he wrapped his arm tighter around her. “ Oyasumi, Hachi.”
She frowned and shot a hand up, smooshing it against his mouth. “Shh, no talk. Sleep now.”
Chapter 16: Thus With A Kiss I Fly
Chapter Text
It was surprisingly lonely with the two of them gone, Jesse realised. Their rooms felt too empty, too quiet. He didn’t like the quiet, it left him too much time to think, and think he did. He thought about the way she’d looked up at him, how big and round her eyes got, how they’d pretty much begged him for permission even before she’d decided to kiss him. He thought about how, if there’d been more time, and if she’d have let him, he’d have her sitting up on the counter, settled between her legs as he messed up that pretty makeup of hers, hiking up the hem of that sweater to run his hands over her sides. It had taken a lot not to do it in the first place, but he was determined to let her set her boundaries and figure out what she wanted first. He wanted her to feel safe with him because she was.
He’d have to go slow with her so as not to startle her. He knew Hanzo would have no problem with that, but Jesse would, he just got so excited he forgot himself sometimes. That wasn’t so helpful when a prospective partner could startle like a fawn and run off. He just had to let her come to him, and he was fine with that.
Jesse sighed and rubbed at his face, looking himself in the eyes through the mirror. His op was a go, he was dressed in his fatigues and body armor, ready to head out. It felt strange not having anyone to say goodbye to, he was used to a quick kiss, maybe a hug, but now there was nobody waiting to see him off.
Except for Angela, it seemed.
She stood outside the door, waiting for him to step out, her face pinched in a way that only meant bad news.
“Doc, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he started slowly, pausing in the doorway of the ops locker room. He gave her a quick once-over, noting how tense she was, how she lightly tapped her fingers against her arms as she hugged herself. Something was wrong, someone was in trouble. Maybe not immediate trouble, she’d be much more worked up than that, but trouble nonetheless. “Is there something you need?”
Her eyes widened as he spoke, almost as if she hadn’t seen the door open, and she nodded firmly. “Go get changed. Your op’s been handed to someone else with clearance. I have something more important for you to do, but first we have to talk.”
“By now you’re aware of Briallen’s… past life,” she started, pacing her office and playing with the sleeve of her lab coat.
“I am,” he affirmed, nodding and leaning forward in his chair, his forearms on his knees. He never really liked Angela’s office, it was so bland and cold, never really showcasing her personality. But, he supposed that was for the best, it was a doctor’s office, after all. “If you’re worried about her-”
“I am, but for a completely different reason than you might think.” Angela shook her head, biting at her fingernails a bit as she stopped, looking down at the floor. “I… I did some digging, and I found something that you won’t like and we need to investigate.”
Jesse raised an eyebrow. “You ain’t gonna send me to Norfolk with them, are you?”
“What? No. No, I am not sending you to Norfolk. Lord knows the Knights have enough on their hands as it is, they don’t need you three down there causing a ruckus.” She dropped back into her chair, giving him a hard look. “I’m sorry to say this, Jesse, but Briallen’s engaged. Whether she wants to uphold that engagement now after all this time is up to her, but she is engaged nonetheless.”
“Engaged?” Jesse sat up, his brows furrowing. “She’s engaged? Who the hell would be engaged to her?”
Angela pursed her lips, folding her hands in front of her. “Gabriel Reyes.”
“You’re lyin’,” Jesse growled, knowing that a storm passed over his eyes. “Gabriel Reyes is dead and gone. And even if he ain’t, she had no ties to Talon before, there’s no way they’re engaged.”
“I’m not lying, Jesse. I found some of her old O.O. files, you can take a look at them if you’d like,” she said, pulling up the files on the holoscreen and waving them over to him.
Briallen’s face peered up at him, sporting a nasty grin that he hoped he’d never see in person. He scanned the page, reading through scraps of information he didn’t care about - birthplace, age, height, weight, blood type - until he found the section he wanted. Sure as shit, there it was; Relations - Gabriel Reyes, fiancé.
Angela was lucky it was a virtual file. If it had been paper, Jesse would have torn it up right there. She was engaged to Reyes? How the hell was that possible? Organic Omnics had no ties to Talon, how had they met? He almost got angry at Briallen, but he calmed himself down, reminding himself that she had no way of knowing. Reyes had not come for her in that hospital, no one had claimed her, she thought she was alone in the world. The thought made him more angry. How the hell do you get engaged to someone and not even show up if they’re almost killed in an accident? How do you just leave them like that?
He ground his teeth a bit as he rubbed at his eyes. “Okay, fine. She’s engaged to Reyes. What about it, the man is dead.”
“I think we both know that is not the case, Jesse,” Angela said, a tone of sadness in her voice. “Jack survived. Gabriel did as well. Who else would you think the Reaper is?”
“You’re right,” he sighed, shaking his head. “So, what do you need to investigate? Reyes never came for her in that hospital, he obviously doesn’t care for her anymore.”
“He never came for her because he didn’t know. She wasn’t entered in the hospital’s records under her old name, you know. Gabriel might have even thought she died. But now, with this new tie between Organic Omnics and Talon,” she started, leaning back in her seat, “and Aderyn’s mutants showing up at the Arachnid bust-”
“He’s going to know,” Jesse finished, rubbing at his face again.
“Yes. And we both know Gabriel, he will do nearly anything if it’s for someone he loves.” She went quiet, watching him for a second before she leaned forward, tapping her desk lightly to get his attention. “Jesse, this could mean Briallen is in danger. If Gabriel knows she’s alive, he’s going to try to get her back. We need someone to scope out the situation, figure out what his people know… We found a Talon base in Sivas, Turkey. We need you to slip in undercover, map out the interior, get our people inside so we can take it down.”
“And while I’m there you want me to see what I can find out about their knowledge of Briallen,” he said, nodding in understanding. “And you can’t have any other agent do it because you don’t trust them to not get themselves blown to smithereens.”
“The rookies are a handful,” Angela said quietly, offering him a small smile. “You’re the only other agent besides Jack, Winston, Ana, and I who has clearance to Briallen’s old files, seeing as you were part of the original investigation into Organic Omnics. You’re the only agent who can do this, Jesse.”
Briallen had been right; Hanzo did enjoy it at the estate. While it wasn’t exactly like what he was used to, it did suit his tastes better, as did their expansive collection of fine wines. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was a bit of a snob. Jesse always teased him about it.
Over the course of the week, he’d watched her progress, slowly coming back to herself. She stayed in his room half of the next day, wearing one of his spare shirts. She’d looked cute, sitting there reading on the bed in the too-big button up, the sleeves pushed up a bit so her hands were free, the top three buttons undone, her hair a wild mess. He’d taken a picture when she wasn’t looking, thinking Jesse would like it.
Around lunch time, she’d asked one of the staff to grab her suitcase for her and bring it to the room so she could change into something more appropriate for their audience, and had come down for afternoon tea, apologising for the day before. That night, she’d sheepishly requested to stay with him, which, of course he obliged. It was cute how nervous she seemed to be around him, how hesitant her actions were, but he always let her make any moves. He found it amusing that first night, how she’d slowly scooted closer and closer until she was nearly pressed against him, the small squeak of surprise she let out when he wrapped his arm around her. Every night after that, she’d stayed in his room, and every day, he watched as her grief diminished and the sun slowly came out again.
She’d begun spending more time with the two young girls, taking them out on walks around the property, collecting leaves with them to make strange patterns and art with. It was refreshing, watching her interact with the girls, and it allowed him to see yet another side to her that he hadn’t before. She would make a good mother, he decided one evening, watching her attempt to embroider with them. They obviously had more practise, but it didn’t stop her from having some fun with them. They were whispering and giggling, and the girls were showing her the proper techniques, of which she never got the hang of. But that never dulled her smile.
The day the call came in had started off as the rest of the days had; Hanzo had woken early, sometime around seven, to find her completely pressed against him in an attempt to keep warm from the late autumn chill. It was sweet, the way she clung to him even as he tried to pull away, and the little pout she gave him was enough to guilt him into staying in bed for just a while longer. Eventually, though, he knew they had to get up, so he tucked her hair behind her ear, brushed his fingers against her cheek, and steeled himself against the cold as he slipped out of the bed. She would follow shortly after, though not without plenty of grumbling.
They had breakfast and then went their separate ways, the girls dragging Briallen along for some game or the other. He didn’t mind so much, being left alone in the estate. Where Jesse might have felt uncomfortable being abandoned in a place he didn’t know, the estate was big enough that Hanzo could find a nice, quiet spot to sit and read, or he could wander his way down to the little archery range they had installed and get a bit of practise in.
He was just on his way to do that when the sound of conversation out on the patio caught his attention.
“Go, then, for ‘tis in vain to seek him here that means not to be found,” came one of the girl’s voices, and Hanzo paused by the balcony door.
‘ Shakespeare? ’ he asked himself, glancing out the window to see Briallen and the girls all bundled up. Each of the girls had a large packet of paper in their hands, whereas Briallen’s hands were free.
“He jests at scars that never felt a wound-” Briallen said, looking quickly up when he pushed the balcony door open to hear it better. He swore he saw a cheeky glint in those eyes. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!” her voice carried up to the balcony, and she smiled up at him. Her cheeks were tinged red from the cold, but she looked so happy, one hand on her chest, the other held out dramatically toward him. The girls were giggling behind her back, watching in earnest. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it.”
He chuckled and leaned onto the balcony railing, watching her. She had good delivery, and seemed to know the play by heart, which surprised him. She was doing that a lot more often, surprising him. Maybe he’d just misjudged her from the beginning.
“... ‘tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes are heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.” She crouched next to Poppy, gently gripping the girl’s shoulders as she sighed dreamily, never breaking eye contact with him, “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!”
Hanzo tilted his head, watching as they all looked up to him, seeming to hold their breath. For anyone else, he might have brushed off the invitation, but the look in her eyes, the way she was waiting with such baited breath… He knew the play, but not by heart. Hopefully he wouldn’t disappoint. “Ah me!”
Her grin widened and her eyes sparkled up at him. “She speaks! O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air.”
He found himself smiling as he responded, his gaze caught solely on her. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”
She turned with a gusto, making him chuckle as she whirled around, brushing a hand through that wild hair of hers. “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”
There was a pause, and she looked up at him, cocking her head. Her smile didn’t fade when he shrugged, unable to offer any more, and she instead turned that bright gaze onto Lyra, who was currently standing on the patio table, clutching the sheaf of papers. She gave a brief nod to the girl, urging her to continue where he could not.
Ah, so this was a lesson.
“ ‘Tis… ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy,” Lyra said, not quite so confident as Briallen, but trying her hardest. “Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.”
By the time he’d made it down to the back patio, bow slung across his back, they’d finished the scene and the girls were rushing back to their au pair. He came up behind Briallen, his hands tucked into his pockets to keep them warm. “So, Romeo and Juliet , huh?” he asked, chuckling at her.
She shrugged and tucked her hands into her pockets as well. “I have a love of ancient plays. Romeo and Juliet was always one of my favourites, but I also love Madea , The Frogs , and Merry Wives of Windsor . The girls needed help with understanding the tone of the play, so I thought I’d help them run through it.”
“Well, you did a very impressive job of it,” he said, chuckling. “I will admit, I never expected you to have memorised the play.”
“Memorised it? Oh, no, hah,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I only know the first part of act two, scene two. I was always so in awe at how wholly Romeo threw himself into his love of Juliet, and that part always made me think. Did you know Juliet was only thirteen? They never really specify Romeo’s age, but he’s supposed to be anywhere between sixteen and twenty-one which is a little, ehhh,” she said, scrunching up her nose a bit. “At first glance it all seems romantic, but then you really think about it and it feels kind of gross.”
He laughed heartily, reaching out to wrap his arm around her, pulling her closer. “That, my dear, is why we don’t overanalyse ancient plays,” he teased, grinning sardonically down at her. “The more you think on it, the less it dazzles and the more you realise it’s just like the rest of the world; disappointing and, more often than not, kind of gross.”
She was quiet for a bit before she nodded. “You have a point… I feel like Jesse would totally pull a Romeo and drink the poison without a second thought if you died.”
Hanzo chuckled, nodding. “You are entirely right, that is definitely something he would do.”
She smiled, taking a breath before tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “Where were you headed before we interrupted you with our whims of fancy?” she asked, fingers reaching up to play with the silver band she still wore on a chain around her neck. Hanzo had noticed that a few times, more often than not she just had it tucked beneath her shirt, but every now and then he caught sight of her playing with it. He wondered what that ring meant to her, what it symbolised.
“Well, I was going down to the archery range,” he said, gesturing to his bow. “You are more than welcome to join me, Hachi.”
The fence plank was cold beneath you as you sat on it, watching as Hanzo lobbed off a few arrows, moving with a practised grace. It was almost hypnotising, watching how he moved, the smooth assuredness of every action. His gaze was serious most of the time, but every now and then, he aimed a quick, disarming smile at you while you two chatted, warming you despite the persistent chill that was not unknown in these autumn months. Soon it would be winter and this entire area would be coated in a light dusting of white. You were thankful it didn’t snow too often.
“If we can, we should try to bring back some of Mariam’s cookies for Jesse. I know he’d love them,” you said, swinging your feet a little bit as you watched Hanzo draw his shoulders back, his eyes locked on the target in front of him. There was an intensity there, a look that made you shiver, but not from the cold. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever look at you like that. “Perhaps I could persuade her to make some snickerdoodles for him.”
There was the soft hiss of the arrow, followed quickly by the sharp thunk of it sinking into the target and you twisted your head around to look at it. It wasn’t dead centre, and, judging by the other arrows, he’d been slowly getting farther and farther from it.
You grinned cheekily. “Aww, looks like you could use some practise old man,” you teased, nudging him with the tip of your shoe.
The look he gave you was new, equal parts affronted and playful, and he leaned back, tilting his head. “Oh, and you think you could do better, Hachi?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Nah, probably not. While I may be a good shot with a rifle, a bow is a completely different beast. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever touched a bow before.”
His lips quirked up a bit. “Is that so?” he asked, his gaze travelling the length of your body in just a second before it settled on your own. There it was, that intense look, but it was softened by something else you couldn’t place. “Come here, Hachi.”
Your eyes widened a bit, your smile faltering as you shook your head. “I-I shouldn’t. I might-”
“What? Break the bow? I can assure you, Hachi, that you are going to do no such thing,” he chuckled, holding out a hand to help you down. “And you’re not going to accidentally hit someone, there’s no one around for you to hit besides me, and if you manage to hit me I will be more impressed than angry. So, come here.”
Hesitating, you reached out, letting him help you down. You landed a bit closer to him than you had wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Grip the bow here,” he murmured, coming around you and guiding your hands in place. You could feel how much he cared for the instrument in how smooth the woodwork of the bow was, how polished it seemed, and in the way he had almost caressed it as it traded hands. This exchange, you realised, was incredibly intimate, and it made your heart pound in your chest. “Do you know how to nock an arrow?” he asked, one hand resting over yours on the body of the bow as he reached back to grab an arrow.
“No,” you breathed, shaking your head, unable to tear your gaze from his face. He was so close, it made your cheeks heat up despite the cold. The closeness shouldn’t have been new to you, after all, you two were sharing a bed, but something about this felt so much more… intimate, meaningful. It made you flustered.
“That’s okay, I can nock it for you, just keep her steady for me,” he said, his breath brushing past your ear, making your heart jump into your throat as you nodded, holding the bow steady as he slipped the arrow in place. “Wrap your fingers around it like this, but not too tightly, just enough to keep it there.” His hand was warm on yours as he guided your hand into position, his chest pressed lightly against your back. If he had noticed your gaze was locked on his face, he ignored it. “Now, spread your knees,” he instructed, adjusting your stance with a few taps of his foot on yours. He pulled back a bit, his hands gripping your arms firmly as he lifted them, his heat enveloping you in a comfortable embrace.
You felt the fire on your cheeks as you watched him, feeling his warmth even through your layers. Your breath stuttered again as he drew his hands up your arms, resting them on your shoulders, then looked down to meet your gaze.
Chuckling, he leaned his head down a bit, his fingers gently gripping your chin as he turned your face out towards the target. “Eyes forward, Hachi,” he murmured lowly, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he brought his hand back to your shoulder again. “You’ll have plenty of time to oggle later. Point a finger out towards that target, do you see it?”
Your head spun a bit, at his closeness, at how his scent rolled over you, how his voice rumbled deeply in your ear, but you nodded, trying to keep focused. The target he was referring to was not far, maybe about thirty yards out, sitting upright in the empty field, in a row of targets that looked exactly the same. A handful of arrows poked out of its surface as if it were a pin cushion.
You could practically feel his smile as he hummed, nodding. “Good. Now, raise the bow a bit, pull this arm back. Perfect.”
You steadied your breathing as you’d seen him do countless times, trying to tune him out and focus. You could see your target, envisioned the arrowhead sinking into the middle of the bullseye, and then suddenly there was a hand on the back of your neck and you jumped, the string slipping out of your grasp. The arrow hurtled through the air as you gasped softly, turning to frown up at him as he hung over you, but he turned your gaze back out toward the field with his gentle grasp on your chin. You watched as the arrow slipped through the fabric stretched over the target, right in the dead centre, though your pride was overshadowed by surprise as the hand on your neck squeezed ever so lightly and you turned your attention back to him.
Deep brown pools looked down at you, a warmth glittering in their depths as he chuckled. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching up to brush his fingers against your cheek, “a perfect bullseye.” For some reason, you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about your arrow.
“You startled me,” you breathed, a little bit frustrated, but beginning to forget about all that now. Your skin tingled where he touched, a heat spreading from every little brush and scrape of his calluses against your skin. You were so close to him the air between you was warm.
“ Gomen’nasai ,” he chuckled, taking the bow from you and setting it to the side, never breaking eye contact. “You get so tense, and it all gathers right there at the base of your skull…”
You reached up, steadying yourself a bit by placing a hand against his chest. “You should warn me next time,” you said, leaning into his touch. Your breath caught in your throat as he wrapped an arm around your waist, his thumb ghosting over your parted lips. “Don’t tease,” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, whispered out on a single breath that was quickly stolen from you as his lips descended onto yours.
He kissed you softly, pulling you close, loosely, as if he was afraid you’d bolt. He pulled back just a second later, looking down at you with those dark eyes, and when you stayed, he smiled and kissed you again. Hard. And while it was sweet in its own way, there was a hint of possessive finality to it, like he’d been waiting to do this, wanting to kiss you, and now that he had there was no escape for you. Not that you really minded the prospect. His hand found their way down to your lower back, and then quickly dipped below, scooping you up by the backs of your thighs so he could set you down on the fence.
You squeaked and wobbled, breaking the kiss to quickly grab onto the wood beneath you. While it was thick enough to sit on, it wasn’t exactly flat and you had felt as if you were about to fall backwards.
He chuckled, kissing you again. “Don’t worry, Hachi, I’ve got you,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around you, brushing your hair back from your face.
“Again, you need to warn me!” you said, shaking your head as you hooked an arm around his neck, pulling away just enough to tease. “Thought I was going to take a tumble there.”
“I would never let that happen to you, Hachi,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was just about to lean in to kiss you again when his phone rang, startling the both of you.
You recognised the ringtone and chuckled. “That’s Jesse. What amazing timing,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
Hanzo sighed, not yet answering the phone, weighing his options.
You pushed lightly on his chest. “Come on, answer it! He’s probably back from his op. Who are we to deny him some post-op conversation?”
“You have a point, Hachi,” he said, giving you one last lingering kiss before he pulled away to answer it. “Moshi, moshi.”
You shivered, the cold suddenly rushing back to you without his heat there to keep it at bay. Without him right there demanding all your attention, you realised that you’d practically thrown yourself into this without thinking about it. You’d kissed both Jesse and Hanzo, what did that make you? A couple? A throuple? No one had talked about boundaries, nothing had been discussed yet. But, then, it just felt… natural. Like this was the way things were supposed to progress.
‘ We can all sit down and talk about it when Hanzo and I come back from Norfolk, ’ you reasoned with yourself, wrapping your arms around your midsection to try and keep in the heat. You watched as the small smile on Hanzo’s face faded first into shock, then into that familiar serious business face of his.
“Thank you, Jesse. We’ll get right on it. You keep yourself safe. We’ll see you soon,” he said, frowning as he turned to you. “Yes, I love you too, Jesse, now go.” He hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket and hurrying to gather up his bow and the arrows.
“What’s going on?” you called after him, frowning as well.
“Talon is on their way. We need to get the family to safety.”
Chapter 17: Though She Bee But Little, She Is Fierce
Chapter Text
“Why do you call me that, Hanzo?”
The moon had already made her appearance, shining brightly into the room as you slipped into your pajamas, the bathroom door set just slightly ajar behind you. The girl who met your gaze in the mirror didn’t look wholly like you, her eyes were too despondent, her lips curved downward in an unfamiliar way. You were used to depression, to feeling lost, but this was new.
“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked, looking up as you pushed open the bathroom door, slinking out of the room.
“Hachi. It means bee, right? Why do you call me that?” You crawled onto the bed, kneeling beside him, but made no effort to look up into his eyes. Instead, you cast your gaze downward to your hands as you wrung your fingers in your lap.
“Does it bother you?” his tone was soft, his fingers gentle as he brushed back the bangs that fell into your face.
“No. I just… I don’t think I understand,” you said, leaning into the touch as you rolled your lips. “The nickname came out of nowhere and I don’t understand how you came up with it.”
“Hmm, well,” he started, taking some time to think. “Because you remind me of one.”
You looked up at him then, your brows furrowed, but he wasn’t looking at you; his eyes looked past you, out toward the window where the moon winked in at the two of you, cheeky in her fullness. A wind blew past the window, sending leaves scurrying against the glass as they tried to follow it.
“I-”
“You are fragile, lost, tossed in a storm like a bee without her hive,” he said suddenly. “That night, when you awoke from that nightmare, you were looking for Jesse, I could tell. He had been your rock through all of it, so it was no surprise. But the fear in your eyes when you looked up at me, I realised how far you’d actually been blown, how much those cruel winds had tossed you, how much you needed more than just a rock…” He frowned a bit, pursing his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly. He let out a small sigh and placed a gentle hand on your knee. “You do so much to see others happy, Hachi, like a bee with her pollen, every flower a new smile. You would do anything to protect your family, your friends, your hive. That is how you remind me of a bee.”
You raced across the field, feet flying over the neatly cut grass, signaling danger to every guard you came across. You would not let them hurt this family, not even if your life depended on it. You should have expected something like this, the Knights were helping to fund Overwatch, if Talon had heard about it sooner, they definitely would have struck before any of this. Thankfully, you knew the family had prepared for this. A panic room tucked away in the cellar behind all the wine racks awaited them, if they could get there in time.
As soon as you reached the doorway, there was a tug on your arm that whirled you around, right up into Hanzo’s chest. “You stay in there,” he said, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
You nodded, glancing out toward the empty field which led into the woods about fifty yards off. “They’ll most likely come from there, the tree’s will make them harder to hit. Hey,” you pulled him back as he tried to peel himself away, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. “Stay safe. I want to be able to bring you back to Jesse in one piece.”
He grinned, gently twining your fingers together as he shook his head. “They won’t even see me coming. Now, get inside, make sure you get the Knights to safety, join them. I would hate to lose you, Hachi.” He kissed you again before pulling away and hurrying back to the woods, already nocking an arrow into his bow.
“Miss Marsh, what is going on?” one of the guards asked. Shirley was her name, you remembered her from the last Christmas you were here. She was young, but you’d seen the guards spar before, and she was as tough as they came.
“Talon is on its way,” you said, gesturing for them to follow you into the estate. “I don’t know what they’re here for, I wasn’t briefed enough on it, but I would be damned if it doesn’t have something to do with the Knights funding Overwatch. I need you all to search the estate, find the Knights, and get them down to the cellar. Make sure you search every room. If one of them gets hurt so help me Gods, I will personally flay each and every one of you,” you warned, already heading for the stairs. You paused, hearing the tell-tale dull whirr of a drop ship approaching and glared at them. “Go!”
You hurried to the room you shared with Hanzo, fishing through your suitcase to find the com you’d tucked away into it. It took a few precious minutes to find it, but you thought it better to be prepared. Sticking it into your ear, you peeled out of the room, quickly going to search for any of the family. “Testing, testing, this is Prodigy. I repeat this is Prodigy, do you copy?” You hoped you hadn’t hopped onto one of Talon’s frequencies, and you let out a sigh of relief when Hanzo’s voice responded. Of course he had a com on him.
“Prodigy, this is Longshot, I copy. Stay off the line as much as you can. They might tap into it,” he said, though you could hear the slight smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much, when was the last time he went on an op?
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it, and threw open one of the bedroom doors, finding the girls and their au pair sitting in the reading nook of one of the larger bedrooms.
The au pair, a young woman from Italy, whose name you had learned to be Genesia, stood, frowning. “Signorina Marsh, is there something wrong?” she asked, glancing between you and the door.
A quick look behind you revealed Shirley and another guard had followed you in. “There’s no time to explain, you and the girls need to get to the cellar now. We’ve received word that the family is in danger.”
Poppy, ever the dramatic girl, let out a startled cry and rushed to your side, clinging to your hand. “You are coming with us, right? If we’re in danger, you’re in danger.”
Lyra stood as well, though she was much less dramatic about it. She brushed off her skirts and peered behind you as well, looking for someone. “Where’s Mister Shimada?”
“He’s out keeping the danger at bay, and, yes, of course I will, but I will have to meet you all down there,” you lied, giving her hand a light squeeze. “Come on, now, we need to go now.” You passed Poppy off to one of the guards and nodded to their au pair before you hurried off to the gun room. You’d be damned if you were going to sit around and let Hanzo do all the work protecting these people.
A wall of weapons stood before you and, for just a second, you worried Dominick would be upset if you touched the weapons he so lovingly tended to. Well, Dominick would have to deal with it, his house, his family were under attack and you were doing your job by protecting it.
Grabbing a rifle, a small pistol, and a nasty looking kukri, you made sure you were ready before booking it up to the water tank room on the third floor. The window offered the best view of the woods and gave you a nice height advantage. You opened the window just slightly and settled down on your stomach with the muzzle pointed out towards the woods. You couldn’t see Hanzo, but you could see movement every now and then that was too jerky to be him.
“Alright you mother fuckers, you want to mess with the Knights, huh?” you murmured, zeroing your sights in on one of the figures as it stepped into view. “Well you’ve got another thing coming.” The shot cracked through the crisp autumn air, startling the birds nearby, and the body dropped. Not a second later, your com crackled to life.
“Prodigy,” Hanzo’s voice was tinted with anger. He wasn’t too happy you’d joined the fight. “I thought I told you to-”
“Save it, Longshot,” you retorted, rolling your shoulder as you lined up another shot, dropping another Talon operative. “I’m helping. They’re safe.” By this point, you’d located him, sitting up high in one of the trees, and you smiled. “On your left,” you warned, watching with a strange satisfaction as he turned and brought down one of his own. “That’s two for me, one for you.”
“Are you trying to make this into a game?” he asked, audibly incredulous.
“Maybe.” You smirked, taking down another one. “That makes three.”
“Well, if it’s going to be like that… Mark it down at four to three,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. He was enjoying this, and maybe you were too. What did that say about your mental state? Could this count as a really fucked up date?
“Four to four!” you corrected, taking another shot.
You watched through your sights as Hanzo laughed and took off in another direction. “Five to-” The line filled with static, and your heart dropped. You knew that static, had listened to it on repeat from the audio recordings of your last op. His com had been destroyed. Panic filling your chest, you lamely called out for him still. “Longshot? Longshot this is Prodigy, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?”
The crackle of static was your only response and you cursed.
“Longshot, do you copy?”
When there was still no reply, you pushed yourself up from the ground, abandoning the rifle, and ran out of the room, down the hallway, taking the steps three at a time. You would not lose him, you couldn’t lose him. Jesse couldn’t lose him. Once your feet hit the field, you booked it to the woods, somehow avoiding the shots that were sent in your direction. This was stupid, this was dumber than dumb, you couldn’t run out into live fire without your armour. But yet, you did, you did because he was in trouble, because you couldn’t stand to lose anyone else on an op, not so soon after the first, not when you’d finally started figuring out your feelings.
The woods enveloped you like a blanket, shielding you from the view of the one or two Talon operatives still taking refuge there, and still you ran, hoping beyond hope that you would find him. You knew the general direction in which he’d gone, and you could only pray you didn’t run into Talon on the way.
By the time you found him, it was almost too late. You’d nearly stumbled over him, and he groaned, looking up at you. Someone had tied him to the tree and mortally wounded him; his femoral artery had been slashed and he was bleeding out, fast.
“Hachi,” he managed, his breath rapid and shallow. His skin was incredibly pale and you knew he had only minutes left if you didn’t stop this bleeding.
“Fuck, Han, okay, stay still, please,” you breathed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, and slicing through the rope with your kukri. Your hands were shaking, from fear, from the panic, from the thought of losing him. You couldn’t let him die, you wouldn’t. “Lie back, lie back,” you urged, already beginning to tear a large strip from your jacket. Tears had begun to pool in your eyes but you fought them back, elevating his leg so you could tie a tourniquet above the wound. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you stay with me, okay?” you begged, wiping at your eyes, and pressing a hand against his clammy cheek. “You’re not allowed to die on me. Can you stand? We need to get you back to the estate.”
He grunted a bit, and laid there for a second, slipping a hand into yours. “Hachi…”
You shook your head, helping him to his feet. “Save your strength, don’t speak.” You slung his arm over your shoulder, trying to hold up most of his weight. It was slow going, and about halfway there, you realised you were not going to be able to make it back to the estate, not like this. You stumbled and cursed, making sure to let him fall into you, and you into a tree. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You swallowed the panic rising in your chest. It wasn’t going to do either of you any good.
Looking around, you spotted the out building, which had been transformed into the guard’s barracks when the Knights had bought the estate, and was much closer than the estate. ‘ He’s not going to make it without a transfusion… the guards should have all sorts of emergency medical supplies in there. ’ Steeling yourself, you stood back up and half dragged him into the barracks.
The warm air greeted you happily, but you didn’t stop to enjoy it. Instead, you gently laid him down next to one of the beds and quickly moved to barricade the door with whatever you could; a chair cunningly propped up under the handle, the metal table lifted onto its side and leaned against the door so it’s weight held it shut, a chest dragged from halfway across the room to sit in front of the chair and keep it from moving. It was all hard work, but you were determined not to let anyone in.
“Fuck, okay, alright,” you muttered to yourself, hurrying to the storage closet and searching through the med kits. By some miracle of the gods, you found what you were looking for and you nearly cried in joy. When you came rushing back over, Hanzo had passed out, and you cursed again, for a moment thinking you’d lost him, but his pulse was there, weak, so, so incredibly weak, but there. “Don’t worry, don’t worry love,” you murmured, ripping open the kit and hastily putting together the administration set. This was exactly why Angela had tapped you for some field med classes, and thank the gods you’d been paying attention. A few tears dripped down your cheeks and you wiped them away, having no time for mourning. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die.”
“Gabriel, it’s been over an hour. I don’t think she’s here,” Sombra sighed, appearing next to him, leaning back against the tree. “Pollito and I have searched the house, inside and out, she’s nowhere to be found.”
“No, I saw her. I know she’s here,” he growled, flexing his hand a bit as he turned to stalk towards the outbuilding. Too many years, he’d spent too many years searching for her after Aderyn’s lab had been shut down, after she’d disappeared. He’d heard rumours, whispers of sightings of the infamous Morrigan Morgan, but none ever led him straight to her. Now, there was a ripple through the ranks, whispers coming from the Organic Omnic ties. Twice now had he heard she’d been spotted, changed, but spotted. And, oh, how she would have had to change to be working with Overwatch.
“Why are you so hung up on her? She’s ghosted you for years, camarada , maybe she doesn’t want to be found by you,” she suggested, inspecting her nails as she followed along.
They both froze as their coms crackled to life. “Testing, testing, this is Prodigy, can anyone hear me? I repeat, this is Prodigy, Houston, please respond.”
Sombra grinned. “Well, I stand corrected, she is here. She doesn’t sound too good, though.” Clearing her throat, she tapped at the holographic keypad that appeared before her. “Prodigy, this is Houston. We’re on our way, what is your location?”
Through the com, her voice sounded exactly like Winston’s. Gabriel frowned. “When did you-”
She simply shook her head and held up a finger to her lips as they listened.
“Thank the gods! Houston, we’re in the outbuilding. Longshot is down, I might be right there with him in a bit. Please, come as fast as you can, we both need immediate medical attention. I’ve barricaded the front door, but I think there might be a back entrance,” her voice was strained, as if it was a struggle to maintain consciousness. Good, it would make the extraction that much easier.
“Are you going to even bother with the back entrance?” Sombra asked, shooting him a knowing look as he picked up the pace.
“Don’t test my patience, Sombra,” he warned. As soon as they came up to the doors, he let out a breath and let himself slip into the mist. He never really liked doing it, it was cold and disorientating, but, over the years, it had become something he’d relied on. He slipped under the door, reforming himself just beyond the barricade, and his heart stopped at the sight that beheld him.
There she was, the woman he’d spent nearly ten years trying to find, the woman who’d seen him through so many ups and downs, the woman whose smile always lit up his days, the woman he had loved so dearly for so long, the woman he’d vowed to spend his life with. There she sat on the bunk, blood slowly pumping from her through a tube into another man, an unconscious man whose hand she was currently clinging to. There she sat, with a look of murder in her eyes and a kukri in one hand, held out menacingly towards him.
“Come any closer and I’ll kill you,” she warned, her breathing shallow. “I should have known it wasn’t really Winston on the com. I won’t tell you where the family is, you’ll have to kill me to get to them.”
He watched her, amused at how dangerous she still looked, even while experiencing hypovolemic shock. Her honey-brown eyes were wild with a rage he didn’t remember, and after a few seconds it clicked. He did remember it. That was the same look of rage she held whenever someone threatened her family, the mutants, him. That was the same rage she’d held when she went off to hunt down the list of agents she’d been given, when she went off to protect her family. This was her directing that rage at him, because now he was the threat, and this man, the people in the estate, they were her family now.
A sour chuckle rose in his chest and he cocked his head. “It’s good to see you too, Morrigan.”
Her eyes widened for a second before she doubled down on the rage, her hand shaking. “That’s not my name. I am not Morrigan.”
He ignored the statement, his eyes catching onto the flash of silver that hung around her neck. “You kept it. The ring I gave you,” he said softly. Something about that stung. She’d kept her engagement ring, but still went and found herself another family, had gone and forgotten about him, had found a replacement for him.
She snarled. “I kept this ring because it was the only tie to my past I had. If it was you who gave it to me, I’m sorry I kept it. I should have thrown it into a river long ago.”
“Don’t talk like that, corazon ,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Put down the kukri. We both know you’re not going to be able to hurt me with that.”
She watched him, and paused. He could see the gears turning behind those pretty eyes of hers, could see every twitch, every staggered breath, and then, finally, could see the thought finalise. It took her too long, her body was beginning to shut down from the blood loss. If he didn’t put an end to this soon, she was going to end up killing herself trying to save this man’s life.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, dropping her hand, the kukri still clenched tightly in her fist. The rage in her eyes was slowly dying, and he could see how tired she was getting.
“I’m taking you home, cari ña . Whether you put up a fight or not. I would rather you didn’t, it would make both of our lives easier.”
She looked down at the man, rubbing her thumb against his wrist, and sighed. “If I go… will you promise not to hurt anyone?”
That was new. He knew Morrigan had always had a soft spot for family, but he’d never seen her offer up her own life in place of anyone else’s. No matter how much she loved someone, her own life was something she had always treasured. What had happened to her?
“You mean him,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and looking down at the man. Now that he actually took his time to look at his face, he recognised him. Hanzo Shimada. Well, at least she wasn’t replacing him with a saint.
“Him and the Knights,” she corrected, glaring at him, but the look didn’t last. “Just… let me finish up here?”
“Fine. But make it quick,” he conceded. No one could say he was entirely heartless. Even before she disappeared he’d let her get away with too much because of those damned puppy dog eyes she would always give him.
He watched her closely as she finished up the transfusion, pressing the gauze into the puncture wound first on the Shimada’s arm, and then her own. He frowned as she leaned down, brushing her fingers against his cheek, whispering something he couldn’t hear, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was blatantly disrespectful, but he didn’t think she’d realised, not in her state of delirium. Finally, she stood, wobbly as a newborn fawn, and somehow managed to make her way over to him, kukri abandoned on the bunk.
“Okay,” she breathed, looking up into his mask, her eyes glazed, but determined. “Remember your promise.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her he never truly promised anything, didn’t have time as soon after she’d said this, she collapsed into him, the shock finally winning out. “ Idiota ,” he murmured, scooping her up into his arms. He took the com out of her ear and set it down on the bunk next to the kukri, and carried her out of the building.
Sombra was waiting outside, smirking. “Didn’t know you had such a soft side, Gabriel,” she said, chuckling before she tilted her head, talking into her com. “Pollito, pull the ship around, we’re done here.”
Chapter 18: Thy Sting is Not So Sharp
Summary:
This chapter contains a character created by Nightmare-Lee over on Quotev, featured in their story Can't Breathe Love. We plan on having more crossover chapters in the future, so I highly recommend checking out their story!
https://www.quotev.com/story/11325148/Cant-Breathe-Love-Overwatch-x-OC
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hanzo woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the unmistakable smell of disinfectant. He blinked in the bright light, his head pulsing lightly, and let out a groan as he shifted, his entire body resistant to the movement and sore. What had happened? Where was he?
There was a body at his side in an instant, a familiar metal hand gripping his own. “Doc! He’s awake!”
“Jesse…” Hanzo breathed, blinking a bit more as the man’s face slowly came into focus. He couldn’t express how happy he was to see Jesse’s face, to know that he was there. There was something missing, though, another presence that should have been there... “What happened?”
“You lost a lot of blood,” Angela informed him, quickly striding over to his side to check his vitals. “You are extremely lucky Miss Marsh is a universal donor and knew how to do field transfusions. We might have lost you if she wasn’t so generous.” The doctor was frowning, scribbling something down on her clipboard. “And stupid. That girl’s body does not contain the average amount of blood because of her mutations, those two and a half units she gave you could have killed her. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a bus at least five times,” he groaned, lightly squeezing Jesse’s hand. ‘ Marsh… Marsh… Briallen! ’ He remembered it then; the little game they had started, the child who had taken him by surprise, the crossbow bolt being plunged into his leg before being ripped out as the child teleported away in a flash of purple light, Briallen finding him and putting so much effort into keeping him alive... “Where is she? Where is Briallen? Please tell me she’s safe.”
Jesse and Angela both paused, sharing a look.
“Well, she’s relatively safe, Han,” Jesse started, furrowing his brows as he looked back down at his boyfriend. “At least, I hope so… Talon has her.”
“Talon?!” Hanzo tried to sit up, and immediately regretted the action, nausea welling up inside him as his head spun. “If she’s with Talon, she isn’t safe! We have to get her!”
“Hey now, calm your tits, Han,” Jesse sighed, gently pressing his hand against Hanzo’s chest. “Yes, she’s with Talon, but she is most likely safe. Gabriel wouldn’t hurt her, not if he had the choice… They’re engaged.”
Hanzo stared at him for a second, blinking a couple times. “Did I hit my head? Angela, I think I’m having a stroke. What the hell do you mean, they’re engaged?”
“Just what I said, Han, they’re engaged. Briallen isn’t… she wasn’t who she is now, not before her accident. She-”
Angela swooped in, shaking her head. “Jesse, he doesn’t have clearance-”
“Clearance be damned, Doc, he deserves to know!” Jesse scanned Hanzo’s face, searching his eyes before he sighed. “He’s part of this relationship too. You saw the security footage, you heard the com recordings, he’s part of this too.”
“Gods above, look at you,” the woman’s voice murmured, breaking through the silence. “Aren’t you just a little marvel of science?”
You grunted, the darkness around you slowly shifting into the red hues that you knew to be the backs of your eyelids. They were heavy, hard to open, and you fought against the drowsiness that clouded your mind to get them cracked. A bright light shone down on you, making you blink a few times before you could make out anything else in the room. It was a room, that was for sure, and it appeared to be a mix of a hospital room and a lab. It stunk of disinfectant.
Your head pounded softly, your body ached, you felt nauseous, and you desperately wanted a gallon of water to drink all in that one second, all signs that you’d lost a lot of blood. Groaning, you reached up to rub your face, but found your arm trapped to the seat you were in, secured by the wrist. Both of your arms were like that, you realised, and you began to panic.
“What the hell is going on?” you hissed, trying to wrench your arms free, but to no avail. You were stuck, good and true. “Where am I?”
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I was wondering how long those nanites would take to kick in. You’re probably experiencing some left over symptoms of hypovolemic shock,” the woman said, and you could swear you recognised her voice, recognised the cadence of that Irish accent. She came around you, finally into your line of sight, and you blinked a couple of times. She looked familiar with that flash of red hair and those eyes, but you couldn’t place where you’d seen her before. She shone a light into each of your eyes, excitement showing in her multicoloured ones. “Bear with me now, these little tests will only take a second.”
You shook your head, blinking away the blotches of colour that persisted once she’d removed the light. “What? Who are you? What’s going on?”
The woman hummed, setting the flashlight aside and picking up a syringe. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognise me, Morrigan, we did first meet when you were very young. In the first stages of your mutation, if I’m correct,” she said, smiling over at you. “You’ll feel a pinch.” She stuck the needle in your arm, drawing a small amount of blood before pulling away. “I don’t expect you to remember much from that time, your little body was undergoing so much change it’d be hard to retain much.”
“My name is not Morrigan,” you said, clenching your teeth, glaring up at her, watching as she swirled your blood around in a vial. For a second, you wanted to wrench the vial from her hands, but you bade yourself be still.
“Ah, that’s right, you go by Briallen now, don’t you? A little more friendly to the civilian ear, it means "primrose", if I’m not mistaken. It does not suit you well at all,” she flashed a twisted grin at you before she disappeared behind your seat, vanishing from your view. You could hear her back there, messing with some machine. “It’s a shame Aderyn tucked those beautiful genetic modifications away before she let you run rampant. Imagine the terror you could have spread if only they knew who they’d been dealing with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I escaped from Aderyn, she never let me free,” you growled, shaking your head. “Aderyn never got the satisfaction of using me.”
You heard her pause, heard the clink of glass as she set the vial down and came over to you. She was giving you an odd look. “Of course she did, you were her first, Morrigan. Her first success, her first true creation. Oh, but you don’t remember that, do you? That accident must have dislodged your memory chip… We’ll have to call in a few favours to get that fixed… But even still,” she murmured, gripping your chin and tilting your head, “you should have some memories retained…” She frowned, dropping your chin and gliding away, disappearing from your view again.
You squeezed your eyes shut, another wave of nausea washing over you. “What did you do to me?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing yet. I simply haven’t had the time. Your recovery rate is remarkable, you’ve only been out for a few hours and already your red blood cell count is stabilising itself! You should be back on your feet by lunchtime tomorrow.” The woman sounded absolutely gleeful at this discovery, but you just shook your head.
“I’ve always been like that… Angela says it’s the nanites, says they’ll speed up even more after the procedure,” you shook your head, your pulse pounding behind your eyes as your body fought to right itself. The world was starting to melt in front of you and you struggled to stay conscious.
“The procedure?... So you’re wanting to switch your edited genes back on?” You could swear that was Angela’s voice behind you and you frowned because that wasn’t right. This wasn’t Angela’s office. Where were you?
“Yeah, I don’t… I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again… I don’t ever want to be that weak… not again...” The words slipped out of their own accord, and the room around you began to darken.
“I think we can arrange that, Morgan. Sleep now, you’ll need your rest.”
You nodded and closed your eyes, listening to the fading sound of whirring machines and the clinking of glass.
When you next awoke, you found yourself in a room. White walls, white floors, white décor, the only thing of colour in the entire room was you and your clothing. One glance to the doorway revealed it to be a cell, with the flicker of a plasma barrier being a clear indication. Your head still pounded, your limbs still ached, but you no longer felt like you were going to be sick all over the floor.
Groaning, you swung your legs over the side of the bed you’d been lain on, surprised to find that the floor wasn’t cold to the touch, in fact, it felt like it was heated. Huh. Come to think of it, this cell did seem rather nice for a cell…
“Hello?” you called out, stepping up to the barrier. You placed a hand on it and it solidified under your touch. “Is anyone there?”
There was no answer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, lightly smacking your palm against the barrier. “This is some way to treat your supposed fiancé!” you shouted into the empty hallway.
Again, no answer.
Muttering a string of curses in Gaelic, you slowly made your way over to the bed and curled up into the corner, your side pressed against the wall. Without anything else to do, your mind wandered back to what you could remember before you had passed out at the Reaper’s feet; the panic, the urgency, the thought that you just might end up losing someone else you cared for, the thought that you might have to go home and tell Jesse… How Jesse might now have to find out on his own. You hoped the coms caught the exchange, hoped someone knew where Hanzo was. As long as he made it out okay, you were okay with being here. As long as Hanzo managed to make it, as long as someone found him, as long as he was alive, you were okay with this fate. Sure, it had been fun to entertain the idea that maybe you three could figure something out, but if it ended up this way, that would be okay with you. As long as they still had each other.
And, buried underneath all of that, in the one place you allowed yourself to be selfish, you prayed someone knew where you were, or at least that you’d been abducted by Talon.
Sniffling, you glanced over at the doorway, eyeing the figure that stood there, watching. They’d been there for a while, you realised, just standing. Just watching. They looked like a child.
Frustration and anger rising, you glared, meeting the mismatched eyes that peered in at you. “What, does this look like a zoo to you, kid? Get lost.”
“I dunno, I mean, you are in a cage, so, yeah kinda,” they responded, their voice muffled just slightly by the gas mask they wore. They tilted their head, pulling their grey hat over their ears as they sat against the wall, still watching. “Angry about your boyfriend still? I’m sure he’s fine, my bolts aren’t, like, barbed or anything… although, that’s a good idea, I should write that down for later… The name’s Bird, by the way, in case you cared.”
Your glare festered as a newfound hatred bubbled in the bottom of your stomach. ‘ It was you! ’ “ Go mbrise an diabhal cnámh do dhroma! ” you spat, wanting to leap at the barrier, but managing to restrain yourself. “He was bleeding out and almost died, and I could have died saving him.” You ran your fingers over the scars on your cheek, looking away. “I wouldn’t be too proud of yourself, though. If Angela and the team managed to find him, the damage you did will have been for nothing.” ‘ I hope they found him… I will never be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t save him… ’
“Didn’t want to kill him, so I don’t care, I just needed him out of the way,” they said, shrugging. “I could honestly not give any less of a shit. Anyway, I didn’t even hit one of those big artery things, you know the ones that kill you? I was careful like that.”
“You did, actually, his femoral artery. He was lucky I knew what to do and that I’m a type O negative,” you said, frowning.
“Oh, well, see? Got both of you out of the way, and you knew what to do to save him. No harm done,” they said glibly, and you glared over at them. “Or not. Look, the point is your little ninja boyfriend is gonna be fine. I could have killed him, but I didn’t because you were there to save him! All’s well that ends well, right?”
A rage boiled up from your stomach and you fought against the urge to punch the wall next to you. “Gods, you’re all the same! What the hell is wrong with you? You talk about human lives as if they’re expendable, as if none of them actually matter! How would you feel if I went around talking about your family that way?!”
Bird’s eyes narrowed a bit before they looked away and shrugged. “I don’t know how I’d feel, I guess dead lives are already pretty expendable.”
You stopped, absolutely floored for a second. “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry, I-”
“Don’t be. You didn’t know. Nobody just assumes someone’s family is dead, right?” They tilted their head and the corners of their eyes crinkled in what you presumed was a pained smile.
Sighing, you leaned back against the wall, looking up at the white ceiling above you. After a few seconds of quiet, you shook your head. “I just… I don’t understand. All we’re trying to do is help people… Why are you so hellbent on stopping us? Why are you so determined to hurt people?”
Your visitor laughed sharply, more like a slightly rasping bark, really. “You think I work for Talon? I didn’t have a choice. I’m just as stuck here as you, pal, I just get walking privileges. But, yeah, go on about how Overwatch is “so good”. You know we’re two sides of the same coin, right? Talon and Overwatch are both so convinced they’re right that they’ll destroy the world just to prove it.”
Your eyes widened a bit. ‘ What? Really? Is that how they see this? ’ You didn’t want to think about it, the whole concept just hurt your head and you weren’t up to discussing shit like that right now, not in the current state you were in. “What do any of you want from me?”
“I don’t want jack shit from you,” they said, pulling out their hunting knife and playing with the edge of it. “I don’t know about tall, dark, and annoying, but I’m just bored.” They threw the knife at the plasma barrier, chuckling a bit when it ricocheted off and stuck in one of the cracks in the wall above their head.
“I’m not some kind of plaything,” you said sharply, furrowing your brows as a pulse of pain spread through your head. “If you aren’t here to interrogate me or help me escape, I might just call for the Reaper, Gods know whatever his real name is, and I doubt he would be happy to find you bothering his… prize.” You grit your teeth at the last word. For all you knew, that’s all you were to him, a prize and a pawn. You could only hope all he had planned for you was to keep you in this cell.
“First, his name is Gabriel,” Bird started, pausing when you widened your eyes and looked at them incredulously.
“No. Fucking. Way. Gabriel Reyes?” you asked, groaning when they nodded. Of fucking course he was the Reaper. Of fucking course you were “engaged” to him. Of. Fucking. Course.
They chuckled at your reaction, shaking their head before they continued, “And second, I understand, you are a person. But I’m bored and Sombra can’t find my ass down here, so I’m asking you nicely, so very nicely, not to call for grumpy pants because, honestly? I don’t think you’re ready to see him anyways.”
They were right. You weren’t ready to deal with Gabriel, not when your body felt like lead, not when you were still pseudo-mourning your possible new boyfriend, if you could even call him that - you liked the sound of partner better-, and certainly not when you felt like you could just fall asleep and never wake up.
You sighed and closed your eyes, rubbing at your cheeks. “Fine… Maybe I can get Overwatch to pardon you when they come find me, to thank you for the service of keeping me company,” you joked bitterly, opening your eyes and listing your head to the side to meet their gaze.
“Oh, they won’t be finding you. No one can find this place, unfortunately, or else asshole cowboy would have already given me some stern talking to about joining the wrong side or some other moral shit,” they scoffed, wiggling the knife out of the wall above them. “I’m not the bad guy here, you know. I was hired for a single job, and then it was decided I’m not allowed to leave, so now I’m stuck here like you are.”
You offered them a small smile before the name hit you and you laughed. “Asshole cowboy, huh? You aren’t talking about Jesse McCree, are you?” you asked, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed. You were beginning to like talking to this stranger. “I haven’t really heard anyone call him an asshole besides Hanzo and I… He really can be one when he gets in a funk, huh?”
“Unfortunately. He’s an asshole because he ruined my life, and I’ve been debating on how I’m gonna murder him once I’m out of this hellhole,” they said, completely deadpanned. “Hope you aren’t close.”
You frowned, looking down at the floor. You weren’t surprised Jesse had enemies, he’d been in this business a lot longer than you had, and you already had two, apparently. Two really big bad guys who wanted your head on a platter.
“We are, actually,” you said softly, smiling to yourself as you brought your knees up to your chest, remembering that oh so gentle kiss he’d given you before you left for Norfolk. “I think he wanted us to be a lot closer than we are, but I was just too blind to see it.” ‘ And too broken .’ You rested your cheek against your knee, looking over at the cinderblock wall. “How’d he ruin your life, if you don’t mind me asking? I just… I can’t see that sweet old cowboy doing anything that would actively ruin someone’s life on purpose.”
“How much do you know about the fall of Atlas? It would have been sixteen, maybe seventeen years ago. Big city, everyone died kind of thing,” they said, spinning the knife in their fingers. “Basically Cowboy Jim saves a kid, says he’ll be there, make sure they’re safe. Turns out it’s all a fucking lie, kid does some research and realises wow, Overwatch really sucks ass and the cowboy is a little bitch.”
“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve heard of it. I don’t remember anything beyond maybe five or six years ago,” you murmured, turning to look back over at them, frowning. “But, it sounds like it would have been around the time Jesse got called back to Overwatch, or Blackwatch, at the time… I’m sure he regrets leaving you. He regrets a lot of things nowadays, I’ve realised. None of our lives have been especially easy.”
“Tell me about it,” they muttered, tucking the knife away and crossing their arms. “You can think what you want, but I’m telling you, the lines between good and bad are thin. No organisation should have as much power as Overwatch or Talon. They all need to fall.” The visitor looked down the hall, their gaze distant, and, for the first time, you noticed small, yellow-tinted veins creeping up their skin. The sight made you shudder a bit.
“I agree that too much power can be bad… But I’m choosing to believe in the good in people, and I’ve seen nothing but good in Overwatch,” you said, shaking your head. The two of you went silent again before you tilted your head up, looking up into the fluorescent lights that shone down on you. “What do they want from me?” you asked, looking away and rubbing at your face. “They could have captured any other active, higher-ranking agent, but they chose me, a simple assistant cleared for field work, and I’m not buying that whole engagement story. It just feels like they’re trying to manipulate me from the past I don’t know. So, what am I really here for?”
They scoffed. “You really think I know?” they asked, raising a brow. “They don’t tell me shit. I was literally told, “Yo, we’re kidnapping Gabe’s ex-girlfriend and a ransom hostage, go distract the Shimada.”” They ran a hand through their hair. “Except, imagine all of that in a Spanish accent, and being called chicken… Also in Spanish.”
Your eyes widened and you slowly lowered your feet to the floor. “Wait. A ransom hostage?”
“Yeah, one of those little girls. Not really something I’d have gone along with, but, if it helps them stop funding Overwatch…” they shrugged a bit. “Not that we actually managed to bag her. The family disappeared before we could get a hold of one of them. Also, emo edgelord man was too engrossed in finding you.”
You sighed in relief, shaking your head. “Thank the gods,” you murmured, folding your hands together. You couldn’t name the emotions that had just swam through you, they were too much right now, but you knew if either Poppy or Lyra had actually been swiped up, it’d be on you. Because you didn’t go down to the cellar with them, because you had entrusted them to Shirley and that other guard, because you decided taking down a few fucking Talon operatives was more important than making sure they got to safety.
As these thoughts passed, something in the back of your mind negged you, nibbled away at the edges of your consciousness, trying to escape the dredges of your subconscious. The more you thought on it, the more little moments seemed to come back to you. A pair of warm arms, the scent of soap and musk, strings of Spanish whispered in your ear, flirtatious promises whispered behind walls, around corners, in meetings. Fleeting moments, a handful of emotions, snippets of a voice, but never a face.
And that’s when it hit you.
They hadn’t been lying.
Your eyes flew open and your breathing began to quicken. “Gabriel’s… Gabriel’s ex?” you whispered, fingers covering your mouth. “No.. his fiancé… That’s impossible, I… I was told I escaped, I was told I never… He’s too old! I-I-I’m far too young to-to… Angela wouldn’t lie to me, would she?” A sense of panic flooded over you as you meditated on these memories, they didn’t feel like yours, that voice didn’t feel like yours, but you knew it was. “I think I’m going to be sick…”
“Okay, let’s not do that, stop panicking,” Bird said, moving to stand right next to the plasma barrier instead of sitting across the hall. “I can’t tell you anymore than what I just did because, honestly, I don’t know, so, please? Stop freaking out?”
“He’s, like, thirty years older than me, I’ve-I’ve seen his file! I know what he’s done, I-” you let the sentence die off in your throat, leaning against the wall as a few more fragments of memories bombarded you, making you dizzy. You closed your eyes and shook your head even more, trying to dispel them. “No, no, no, no, it’s got to be lies. Angela would never… It isn’t possible!”
“She’s a doctor, doctor’s lie. Hell, everyone lies when they’re trying to cover their own asses,” they said bitterly. “People lie, and if you think they don’t, well, I think it’s time for a wakeup call, and this might just be it. Don’t trust doctors, or scientists for that matter.”
“Angela saved my life, she… She gave me another chance. What would she have to gain from lying to me?” You felt like you were beginning to lose yourself. Those memories felt too old, the voice, the cadence, the words, they didn’t fit the body they came from, nothing matched up. “I am Briallen Marsh, I’m twenty six years old, I… I have a cat,” you whispered, trying to regain some control over… something, anything. “My friends will find me.”
“I’m sure… I’m sure it’s fine,” Bird offered, sounding entirely unsure of themselves. “Maybe Shadow the Edgehog is lying and just wants to jab at Overwatch… I wish I had more info…”
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said, not entirely glaring at them, just looking sad and tired and strung out. “Thank you for the company, but…”
“Yeah, no, I, uh, I get it. I’m sorry.” They offered you one last look, trying to put so many words into their eyes, but failing, and walked off, leaving you alone in your prison cell.
Closing your eyes, you laid back on the bed and curled up, hugging a pillow to your chest. “My name is Briallen Marsh, I am twenty six years old, I have a cat, and my family will find me.”
Notes:
Translations
Go mbrise an diabhal cnámh do dhroma - May the devil break your backbone
Chapter 19: Should be! Should- Buzz!
Chapter Text
It had been a long, exhausting day. Not for you, but for Jesse. While you’d stayed in your quarters, hidden away from the rest of the base, he’d been out on an op, somewhere in France. Champlitte, you thought. It was nothing too bad, just a clean up, tying up loose ends and what have you, not that you really knew, you’d never been on one before. After your last op went farther south than the geese in the winter, you suspected they were a little hesitant to send you out again.
You could tell it had been hard for him from the soft sigh he let out when he walked in the door, by the way it took him a second to gather himself before he greeted you, by the way his smile seemed a bit droopy. He tried to hide these things from you, but you knew him well enough to see them anyways.
“Hey there, sugarpie,” he said, cocking his head at you, his eyes soft. “Sorry to leave you alone so long.” He grinned at you when you came up to greet him, stepping back before you could give him a hug, his hands tucked behind his back. “Oh, don’t look so glum, sweetheart, you will get your hug, but first, I have something for you.”
Your eyes widened as he produced a small vase of blue calla lilies from behind his back. “Jesse, I-”
“You said no roses, so I got you the next best thing,” he said, handing them to you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he gently wrapped an arm around you. “I was thinking they’d replace that awful centerpiece from the other day. Hanzo’s on his way with the food.”
You smiled a bit and took a moment to sniff the lilies. “Thank you Jesse, they’re beautiful!” You pulled away to set the flowers down on the coffee table, returning to pull him into a real hug, burying your face in his chest. He held you a bit tighter than normal, something that didn’t go unnoticed, and you let him hold you there for just a few seconds more before you looked up at him, frowning. Without saying a word, you took him by the hands and dragged him over to the couch, forcing him to sit down.
He laughed, obliging you, and happily pulled you against him when you sat down to join him, laying you both down. “What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” he asked, gently running his fingers through your hair.
You tapped his forehead, breaking his smile a bit. “You’re upset,” you said simply, taking his hat off of him and placing it on your head instead. “You wanna talk about it?”
He hesitated, his gaze darting between you and his hat before he sighed, deciding to let you get away with it. “Not really, not now. It’s too raw… Saw a lot of things I shouldn’t have seen today. Just happy to be home, sugar,” he murmured, tugging you closer so he could bury his face in the crook of your shoulder.
You nodded because you understood that, being too raw and not wanting to talk about it. Sure, you hadn’t seen nearly as many horrors as he had, but you still knew what it felt like to be traumatised. Humming softly, you played with his hair a bit, twisting it gently between your fingers as you let him detox. “Pidds caught a mouse today,” you said, just making small conversation to keep his mind off whatever he was focusing down on. You felt his smile against your neck.
“Really? And where did he get one of those?” Jesse asked, not looking up at you, just holding you there, tucked up against his chest. “Ain’t seen a mouse here in forever.”
You chuckled, smoothing out the tiny tangles in his hair. “No idea. Scared the shit out of me. Hanzo had to come running to see what was up. Damn bastard left me to clean it up,” you huffed, frowning.
A chuckle rumbled through Jesse’s chest, making you smile a bit. “Well, that wasn’t very gentlemanly of him!”
“No, it wasn’t!” you said, happy to hear him cheering up a bit. You knew it was only a distraction, that he would have to eventually talk about what he’d seen today, but right now what he needed was to not focus so hard on it. “I think you need to teach your boyfriend better manners, Jesse.”
He laughed, shaking his head, his beard rubbing up against your skin and making you shiver. “I suppose I do, don’t I? Though, I’m sure you could do that just as well as I can, pumpkin.”
“Nah, he listens to you more,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. You liked Jesse’s hair, it was nice and thick, always soft, no matter where he’d been or what he’d just been doing, and it was fun to play with.
Jesse shifted and you yelped, not expecting the cold metal that pressed up against your side as the material of your shirt bunched up. He pulled away quickly, his eyes searching your gaze to figure out what just happened. “Darlin’?”
You laughed a bit at yourself, cupping his cheek and shaking your head. “Nothing, it’s just your arm. I just wasn’t expecting the cold. No harm done.”
He smiled apologetically, turning to kiss your palm before he gestured for you to roll over, which you did. You snuggled back, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you and held you up against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. You liked being cocooned like this, it made you feel safer.
“Sorry, darlin’. Wasn’t thinking,” he murmured, letting out a soft sigh. “Still forget I ain’t entirely human sometimes… But I promise, shocking as it might seem, that’s the only enhancement I got.”
You gasped and reached back to playfully swat at him as he laughed. “Jesse McCree, how uncouth! You have a boyfriend, mister!”
He wrapped his arms tighter around you, chuckling into the top of your head. “That I do, and he’s about the same.”
Your cheeks flushed red and you covered your face, shaking your head. “Jesse!”
“I’m just sayin’, darlin’,” he said, grinning as he reached up to pull your hands away from your face, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Don’t have to hide from the truth.”
You rolled your eyes, now unable to hide the little smile you had. You turned your attention to his arm, running your fingers over the metal, grinning when you felt him shudder behind you. “You never did tell me how you got this,” you murmured, running your fingers over the metal again, tapping your nails against his palm.
“Oh, this old thing?” he asked, his voice just a bit raspy behind you, and he let out a sigh, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Well, I lost it during an ambush. We were investigating London, you remember- ah, sorry. Back before Petras decided the world didn’t need us anymore, Reyes had me investigating London before the omnics really went full force. I got ambushed while I was in a call with the Commanders, buildin’ got destroyed and collapsed on me, crushed my arm.” His voice was soft, almost sad as he thought back, and he flexed his hand a bit before he reached up, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “But don’t worry, darl, it’s not nearly as cool as your scars.”
You caught yourself running your fingers over your scars again, staring into the blank abyss that was the wall of your cell. This time however, instead of reflecting on Gibson and his sacrifice, you found yourself thinking of Jesse, and how he used to brush his fingers over them, reminding you that you were still beautiful, even with the marks that now marred your body. You missed him terribly, and your heart ached every time you thought back on him, but you had other things you needed to be focusing on right now, the most important of which was that the ex-Blackwatch commander was now standing in front of your plasma barrier.
“Took you long enough,” you muttered, refusing to look over at him. He cut an imposing figure standing in the edges of your peripherals, but you didn’t care. If he was going to disrespect you by making you wait a week to see him, no notes, no contact, nothing, he didn’t deserve to be perceived by you.
“I’m sorry, hermosa , there was a lot I had to deal with,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Moira said you’re littered with new scars. What did they do to you, amor ? Where did all these scars come from?”
“How bold of you to only now care about my health. I’ve been rotting in a cell for a week, alone, confused, and the only person who has deigned to treat me like a real person has been Bird, where you, my supposed fiance, haven’t said a word to me ever since I woke up.” You shot him a quick dirty look before turning away, going back to playing with the fringe of your torn jacket. Gabriel had had many things sent to your cell, new clothes, books, puzzles, but you refused everything but the food.
“They’ve been down here? They were given express orders not to bother you, that little,” he faded off into a string of Spanish, from what you guessed was mostly curses, and your anger burned.
Up on your feet in a second, you flew across the room, fist slamming hard against the barrier. You were going to have bruises, but they’d be worth it after seeing him flinch like that. “Don’t you dare punish them for that! They’ve done nothing but keep me company after you abandoned me, again, Gabriel! You don’t get to act high and mighty when the pot is blacker than the kettle, you hear me?” you snarled, taking in the sight of his face. He wasn’t wearing his mask, so your cell must have been in a very secure and private area, restricted to him.
His eyes widened, and he furrowed his brows. “You-”
“That’s right, I remember. Not all of it, but I do remember you abandoning me after… after something. The details are fuzzy, but I remember searching for you, I remember you were supposed to have my back,” you said, pulling away from the barrier. Your memories, very few memories, were starting to return, and you were having trouble processing them. With these memories came an unreasonable anger that you had to fight to keep down on a daily basis. To help compartmentalise and keep yourself sane, you started referring to the woman in the memories as “her”, because she wasn’t you, even though she was. Right now it was easy to distinguish between one of your memories and one of hers, but you suspected that was going to become difficult due to the sheer magnitude of memories you’d been missing.
“Morrigan, I-”
“I. Am. Not. Morrigan!” you shot back, anger burning into a fury that you tried to fight, but couldn’t dull the blaze of. “How many times do I have to tell you that? The woman you knew is gone, Gabriel. Oh, she’s in here, alright,” you said, tapping the side of your head, glaring at him. “But she doesn’t exist anymore. Instead, you’ve got me, and I’m not yours.” You saw him flinch, and your anger started to dull, leaving behind fumes of frustration and, surprisingly, sadness. “I’m not yours, not anymore. No matter what these memories are telling me, no matter what you might think or how much you might want it, I’m not yours. I’m not Morrigan.”
This hurt. This hurt so much, because you remembered how happy you’d been with him. How happy she’d been with him. That wasn’t you, those weren’t your memories.
You felt like an imposter, burdened with memories of a life that wasn’t yours, a life that was filled with so much anger and bloodshed. And in every one of those memories, you saw your face, her face, heard your voice. She wasn’t you, but, at the same time, she was, and it was killing you.
The barrier came down and you took a step back, fearing what was coming. Instead of the pain you were expecting, you felt cold surround you, felt the hand against the back of your head as he tried to embrace you.
Gritting your teeth against the cold, you pulled away with a soft hiss. The action confused you, after everything you’d just said, that was his reaction? You looked up into his face, searching his gaze, shocked by the sad smile that graced his lips.
“I’m sorry, I forgot how much you hate the cold,” he said softly. His eyes were sad, almost pleading you to change your mind. But you wouldn’t.
“It’s-”
“A bee thing, I know.”
‘ A bee thing? ’ “I’m sorry,” you breathed, hugging yourself. “I should be mad at you, I should be furious that you hurt so many people just to find me, but she, these memories, won’t let me. I know you miss her, trust me, I do, but Morrigan is gone. It’s just me, and I won’t take her place. So, please, let me go home, Gabriel.”
Gabriel did not let you go home, of course. You were Overwatch, ex lover or no, and he couldn’t just let you free. But, he did visit more often. He talked, you listened, not wanting to engage him. It felt like he was just waiting, watching to see when you finally gave up and came back to him. You wouldn’t, of course. As much as she had loved him before, you had Jesse and Hanzo waiting for you back home. But he didn’t know that.
Time passed in a strange way in that cell, without seeing the outside world, it felt as if time didn’t actually exist. It felt like, one moment it’d be midday, and the next the lights would go off, signaling nighttime for all the cells. You’d stopped trying to count the days; you were sure there were no steady intervals between lights on and lights out, a sleep deprivation tactic to get people to talk. And, eventually, talk you did, just not about what they wanted.
When it wasn’t Gabriel visiting, trying to get some information out of you in the sneakiest ways he could, it was Bird at your doorstep. Ever the welcome visitor, Bird always had fun little stories to tell you about some op they’d been sent on, or went on about how annoying Sombra was in her little affections. You thought it was cute.
The last time they ever visited your cell, you’d begun to put things together. You remembered having wings, sturdy, translucent wings that folded against your back so neatly you could hide them beneath your clothes if you ever needed to go undercover. You remembered some other things too, far more unsavory and nightmare inducing. You were going to have a lot of trauma to talk through with your therapist when you got back home.
“How do you feel about bees?” Bird asked suddenly, flicking their fingers against the plasma barrier to see it jump to life.
You cocked your head, unable to help the chuckle that escaped your lips. “What?”
You saw their eyes widen and knew they realised they’d just interrupted a ramble. “Sorry, I just… Just answer the question.”
“Okay, I like them, I guess. They’ve always liked me for some reason. I used to have a little garden of native plants on my balcony back in Walworth, and they loved that. They even made themselves at home in the little hive I bought for them,” you said, leaning back against the wall. ‘ Wow, how long has it been since I’ve been there? It feels like it’s been so long… ’ “It was nice sitting out on the balcony and listening to them buzz in the early mornings. Why?”
“Just connecting some mental dots. When I first got here about a month or two back, I did some, uhh, slight… not shoplifting, but… uniform snatching. Got this cool hat and these gloves. Saw some shit in a box I definitely wasn’t supposed to touch, reminded me of bees… It was with the emo skeleton’s old shit, so, yeah, connecting dots.”
‘ Sounds like it could have been her old uniform… ’ “Well, I don’t know what mental dots you’re connecting. I’m not Black Wasp, and I never was. That was Morrigan, and that’s not who I am,” you said, trying to convince yourself of it. You didn’t want to think about that, to think about how Angela had lied to you, about how you so obviously had been Black Wasp, or at least she had been, and now you were stuck with her memories.
“What the fuck is a Morrigan?” Bird asked, furrowing their brows. “And Black Wasp? I just wanted to know if I was obligated to give you these gloves and if it would piss tall, dark, and asshole off if I made bee puns.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head to look over at them. “Damn, Gabriel really doesn’t tell you anything, huh? Don’t worry about it, it’s too much to explain right now and I don’t really want to talk about it anyways. You don’t have to give me the gloves back, I don’t want them. But, if memory serves me correctly, you can definitely piss off Gabriel by making copious amounts of bee puns.”
You saw Bird’s shoulders shake a bit as if they were holding in a laugh. “No, no one tells me shit. I’m just kind of… here until someone kills me or they let me leave. Or, if at all possible, I escape.”
“We could do that together, you know,” you said wistfully. “I may not look it, but I’ve some serious training under my belt. Most of it I don’t even remember, but it’s there. They’d have trouble fighting us both off.”
“Hmm, how do I know you aren’t going to turn me into Overwatch as soon as you’re out?” they asked, raising a brow. “‘Cause I definitely helped kidnap you, and have killed a lot of people.”
“Because that would make us enemies, and I don’t want to make anymore enemies here,” you said, smiling softly. “If we work together, we’d be allies, and, in my opinion, alliances should always be honoured.”
Bird thought for a moment, tugging at the green tips of their hair, their eyes watching you intently. Finally, they nodded. “Fine, but if your boyfriend comes after me when all this shit is through, I will be committing murder.”
You chuckled, placing a hand on the plasma barrier. “I’ve no guarantees Gabriel won’t go after you, but I’ll make sure Jesse and Hanzo know the deal.”
Bird raised their hand, placing it on the other side of the plasma barrier, lining up your fingertips. “I can take the old man, he jumped me in my truck and I’m still here. So, he really doesn’t scare me.”
You laughed, tossing your head back. “Well, at least that makes one person who isn’t scared by him. Personally, he terrifies me, even if I’ve seen the other side to him.”
Bird left when the lights went out, promising to bring you some conchinita pibli tacos when Sombra made them next. But they never came back to your cell after that visit, not even to say goodbye. Though, that wouldn’t be the last time you saw your new friend.
Gabriel listened to the girls’ laughter through the security monitors, a bitter jealousy building up in his chest as he listened to them talk about him. How come that stupid canary could get you to open up and he couldn’t even get a single word out of you? Sighing, he reminded himself that you weren’t the same, and probably never would be. Good, part of him said, trying to solidify itself to block out those nasty feelings, that would make this so much easier.
“So?” Moira asked, gesturing to the monitor. “It’s been almost a month, Gabriel. We can’t keep her here if she’s not going to give us anything. Your soft methods aren’t working.”
“We’re not torturing her,” he gruffed, glaring at the geneticist.
Moira was not impressed. Pursing her lips, she placed a hand on her hip, returning the look. “Then what are we doing with her? I’ve got so many ideas that I’ve laid out at your feet and you haven’t even taken the time to think about them.”
Gabriel huffed, looking back at the monitors. “You said she wanted to reactivate the changes Aderyn made?”
Chapter 20: That It Should Come To This!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So this is the Commander’s ex? Huh, man’s got good taste. Up and at ‘em, love. Your presence has been requested.” There was the voice, then a loud banging outside your cell as the lights blinked on, drowning you in white fluorescent lights.
Blinking in the brightness, you looked up to see four Talon soldiers, each wearing tactical gear, standing outside your cell. They all had their own weapons out and ready, as if you were going to leap at them through the plasma barrier. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit at that. Four soldiers afraid of one little you. Damn, Morrigan must have been a beast.
“Yeah? And if I refuse?” you asked, sitting up and gently rubbing your bleary eyes.
One of the soldiers laughed, shaking his head. “We’ve orders to bring you in, conscious or unconscious. You pick, sweetheart.”
You frowned. “Fine, I won’t make your life hell, on one condition. No pet names. Only two men have permission to call me sweetheart, and you’re not one of them.”
Another one of the soldiers laughed. They were smaller in stature, more like you, but built thicker. “Oh, you hear that, Barsa? She’s got a bit of a bark to her.”
“My bite’s worse,” you said dryly, pushing yourself off the bed. “You wanna come here and find out?”
“Maybe another time, love. I love my women feisty,” the first soldier, Barsa, replied, holding up his wrist and disarming the barrier. He stepped inside the cell, but stayed near the door as the other three made their way in, one approaching you with a pair of cuffs. “Turn around, hands behind your back. Just like that, poppet. For all that bluster, you really are obedient, aren’t you?”
“I’ll castrate you,” you snarled at him, honestly thinking about putting up a fight if only to smash his teeth in. No, no that wasn’t you talking. This anger wasn’t you.
Barsa merely laughed, gesturing towards the door with his gun. “Come on, get a move on. I’m gonna watch her rear.”
The men laughed and, despite all the effort you put into staying there, you lunged. You didn’t make it far before you were yanked back by the chains on your wrists, not that it mattered because you didn’t have a plan of attack, but it was satisfying to watch Barsa quickly lift his weapon in surprise. You chuckled at the sight before you grunted as the soldier behind you drove the butt of his gun into the backs of your knees, bringing you down to the ground. A weapon cracked against your face, pain radiating from your jaw. You could already taste the blood on your tongue.
You grinned, showing off a bloody smile. The pain was already fading quickly. “I thought you’d like that, sir,” you said, mocking politeness, “seeing as you like your women feisty and all that.”
“Think you’re real funny, do you?” he asked, and you could hear the glare, the tremble in his voice. You had scared him. He hadn’t expected you to actually retaliate.
“Oh, I think I’m hilarious. I think you’re scared, a stór ,” you said lowly, tilting your head as you waited for him to hit you again. You didn’t know why you were finding it fun to egg him on like this, perhaps it was a side effect from that new personality you were beginning to remember.
His shoulders tensed like he was getting ready to hit you with the butt of his gun again, but another soldier stepped in between you two.
“Minimal damage, Barsa,” she said, shaking her head.
You watched Barsa’s head tilt just a bit as he looked between you two, and you blew a kiss at him from the floor. He stared at you for a second before clicking his tongue angrily and turning away. “Get her off the floor and let’s get this over with already.”
The soldier behind you did not pull you up gently, yanking harshly on your chains, and was not kind with your handling as he pushed you towards the door. The air outside your room was cold, surprisingly so. You hadn’t realised how much heat plasma barriers kept in, or how… accommodating your cell had been. Gabriel certainly had spared no expense for your comfort. Well, no, that was a lie, there was no bath in your cell and no way to hide from the cameras monitoring you when you needed to use the loo. Every now and then you could see the camera turn away from you, so you assumed that at least one of the people monitoring you twenty-four-seven had some sense of sensibility.
You walked proudly behind Barsa, working your jaw a bit to find the pain really had gone nad the gash on the inside of your cheek had disappeared, though your mouth still tasted like pennies. “So, who’s demanded my presence?” you asked, not really expecting any of them to answer you. Soldiers like this didn’t answer to you, not anymore. Not like they did to Morrigan.
“Doctor O’Deorain,” the woman responded, not bothering to look back at you.
You waited for her to continue, but she didn’t, so you pressed more. “So, what, is this a tea party? An Irish family reunion? Is she secretly my mum?” you gasped, leaning forward to hover next to her shoulder. “She’s secretly my mum, isn’t she?”
The silence that came as your answer was heavy with disapproval and irritance.
You frowned and fell back from the tips of your toes. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
O’Deorain’s lab wasn’t far from your cell, it turned out, and the soldiers did their best to keep you hidden from the view of others, which was a little odd, you had to admit. Warm air embraced you again once you had entered the room, and you sighed, relieved. Since when were you this sensitive to the cold?
“Ah, Miss Marsh, glad to see you’re doing… well,” the geneticist said, smiling wryly at you as the soldier behind you went to unlock the cuffs. The four of them were gone within seconds, the door locking shut behind them. “Won’t you take a seat?”
You looked back over to the woman to see she was gesturing at an exam table, her eyes locked on you. “Not until I know what’s going on,” you said, shaking your head as you massaged your wrists. Those shackles had been kinda tight. “You’ve not brought me in here to tell me you’re secretly my mum, right?”
O’Deorain’s face scrunched up in disgust. She looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. “Of course not, we were nearly the same age before. Whatever brought you to that hypothesis, I hope it wasn’t a malfunction in your processing system.”
“You mean the omnic parts of my brain?”
Her grin was a little more patronising than you would’ve liked. “I don’t see what else I could be referring to.”
You frowned. “Okay. What did you mean by-”
“You stated you wanted to reverse Aderyn’s procedure and reinstate the genetic changes she previously installed in your body when you were in her care,” she said smoothly, not giving a damn that she’d interrupted you. You got the feeling you were not going to be able to make the conversation go your way just yet, or ever, with this woman. “Are you still wanting to do that?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I trust you,” you said, eyeing her warily as she busied herself with vials and liquids you couldn’t identify. “Angela was going to do it.”
O’Deorain scoffed. “As amazing a doctor as she is, Dr. Ziegler does not have the right expertism in genetics to perform such a procedure. I cannot see her able to perform it on a banana, let alone a human, it’s much too complicated,” she said distastefully, shaking her head. “Dr. Morgan was an incredibly clever mind, too clever for her work to be undone by the likes of Angela.”
“Yeah, if you could stop knocking my doctor, that’d be great,” you mumbled, pushing your sleeves up to your elbows. “She’s a great doctor, saved my life and my friend’s lives on multiple occasions, and she’s incredibly clever as well.”
“That is all well and good, but this is genetics we’re talking about. Let us leave the genetics to the geneticists and the doctoring to the doctors, shall we?” She turned to you then, polychrome eyes narrowed with a slightly wintery smile. “Have you felt any side effects?”
You blinked. “Side effects? Of what?” Your eyes widened as you remembered being trapped in her lab when you first got here. “What did you do to me?”
Her smile widened, predatory. “Nothing much. I just enabled a few non-visible aspects of your genetic sequence, the increased strength, metabolism, kicked your recovery rate up a notch. I noticed you were almost relieved to walk into the warmer temperature of my lab.”
You frowned, staring at the floor. “Yeah, I was. But I’ve always been a freezeb-”
“That has nothing to do with your previous intolerance to the cold. It was an intended side effect, a test run, if you will. I needed to see if I was going to be able to undo any of the changes Aderyn made, and my hypothesis was correct; I can. So, when do you want to go through with the procedure, we can start as early as tomorrow morning.”
“Start?” you asked dubiously, looking up to meet her gaze. There was a hunger to it that made you shudder.
“Of course, dear, did you think we were going to be able to make such comprehensive genetic changes overnight? I may be a scientist, but I am no miracle worker.”
The process of switching on your genetic code was not quick, nor was it painless. You spent most of month in your room, curled up in absolute agony as the nanites tore through your body, literally rewriting your DNA bit by bit.
The eyes were the most terrifying part; one minute you were sitting there, your body eating through the mild sedative like candy, and then you blinked, and the world shifted. No longer could you see in the usual human spectrum, all the reds disappeared, the world took on a blue hue, and you could suddenly see a few splotches on the floor that revealed you’d not been the only one to ever reside in this cell. The splotches were a weird mix of purple and yellow and it almost made your head hurt for a second before your processors kicked in and that pain settled.
Looking in the mirror during the times when this second-sight kicked in revealed your eyes to be completely dark and covered in a layer of hexagonal shapes. Blinking again and “dismissing” the sight, the layer folded back up, almost like a third eyelid. Which, you suppose, it was.
While the eyes terrified you at first, the wings were the most agonising part of the whole process. It took three weeks for them to grow in completely, first starting off as four little welts around your shoulder blades, perfectly in line with each other. As time went on, they grew, nearly tripling in size before they burst, and bits of chitin began to push through - an agonising process that felt like your upper back was entirely covered with fire-, covered in some kind of amniotic fluid, or so you guessed. When they’d finished growing in, they were just over a foot long, only just covering your lower back. For the first few nights, you struggled to keep them down, the new muscles trying to figure themselves out lending to the wings sticking out at odd angles most of the time. Each wing operated separately from the rest, which made it very difficult to finally get a hold of those tricky new muscles, but, in time, you did.
You didn’t want to look in the mirror after it was all said and done, didn’t want to face who you knew would be waiting there. You didn’t have all her memories, but Morrigan was tormenting you from the ones you did have, and you were beginning to wonder if you really should have gone through this process at all.
‘ No, I did this for a reason. I’m not Morrigan, but that shouldn’t stop me from using her abilities for good… That’s if I ever make it out of here… ’ You scrunched up your nose and brows, shaking your head. You were going to get out of here. Overwatch would find you, you just had to have faith. Taking in a deep breath, you opened your eyes and looked into the mirror.
There she stood, same round face, same honey-brown eyes, same woman. Except you were less thin, not having spent most of your life fighting for survival; your eyes were kinder, seeing more of the good the world had to offer; your hair was shorter, more messy, less uniform; and you had scars that you knew Briallen had obtained, not Morrigan. You were not Morrigan. You were not Morrigan.
“I am not Morrigan,” you whispered, reaching up to touch the scars on your cheek, eyes locked with the woman in the mirror. “I am Briallen Marsh. I am twenty-six… What’s the date?” you called, not bothering to look away from the mirror.
“December twenty second,” the guard outside your door replied.
“Ah,” you sighed, nodding. “I am Briallen Marsh. I am twenty-seven years old. Happy birthday to me.”
He worried for both of them, Jesse did. He worried for Briallen, suddenly snatched away by his old commander, the man who had betrayed everything he claimed to work for. He worried about what she would be subjected to, what Reyes might do to her, what she meant to him, how hard it might be to bring her back. He worried that, maybe, she might not want to come back. Conversely, he worried that she’d been stuck in a cell, waiting and wondering why it was taking so long for them to find her, for them to bring her back home. If they would ever bring her home. If Jesse had a say in it, she’d have been home before the two month mark was up. They hadn’t been able to get anything out of Jay, hadn’t been able to get them to reveal the Talon base they’d been keeping Briallen in. It was clear they’d interacted, it was clear Jay felt some guilt in having to leave her behind. He’d been ever so grateful to hear that Briallen was ok.
He worried for Hanzo, too. Briallen’s abduction had bothered him, a lot more than Jesse would have expected. But, having someone save your life, and give theirs up to make sure you got to keep yours? That was something. It was even more of a something when you were romantically attached, formally or not. Hanzo felt like he had failed, Jesse knew that. He’d promised to keep her safe before they left, and here he was, safe, but at her behest, and she was gone.
It hurt to see Hanzo like this; he was quiet and talked an awful lot less than he normally did. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was the grief or if he was already mourning. He hoped Hanzo wasn’t mourning her. They’d bring her back, alive. And if they couldn’t? Jesse was going to hunt down each and every last one of those Talon pieces of shit.
“Hey,” Jesse murmured, coming up behind his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around the archer’s waist. It was a beautiful day in the greenhouse, or, evening; it was well past six. He rested his chin on Hanzo’s shoulder, watching the dragons growl and chase each other through the trees.
Hanzo grunted in response, laying his hands over Jesse’s. “Has your charge given up any information yet?”
“Not yet. It’s a slow process, Han. They’ll talk when they’re ready,” Jesse assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“It has been a month, every day we waste waiting is another day she’s closer to-”
“Don’t start thinking that way. She’s relatively safe. As long as she don’t piss off Reyes, she should be okay.”
Hanzo grumbled softly in Japanese, looking angrier than Jesse had seen him in a while. The dragons perked up at his words, one of them realising Jesse had appeared, and they bounded back, almost tripping over themselves as they squawked and chittered at him.
Jesse chuckled, reaching down to pet their heads, smiling down at them. “Howdy, you two. Having fun out there?” He couldn’t help but laugh as one wound its way up his body, pressing its forehead against his cheek. “Yeah, missed you noodles, too. Been a while since you came out to play.”
Hanzo softened, his angry expression melting into what he was truly feeling; worry. “They’ve been feeding off of me,” he said, smiling just slightly as the other dragon stood on its hind legs, whimpering and trying to get Jesse’s attention. “I thought it would be a good idea to let them run off the energy… I’m just, I’m worried about her, Jesse. I know she’s tough, but... “
“I know,” Jesse sighed, opening his arms to invite Hanzo in. It took him a second, but he eventually gave in and stepped into the hug, smiling when Jesse pressed their foreheads together. “We are all worried about her. If it were up to us, we would have had her home now. But we can’t do anything if we don’t have any information about her current location. She’s strong, she’ll get through this. We’ll make sure she comes home safe.” He smiled softly, gently rubbing his thumbs over Hanzo’s cheeks. “And when we do, you can spoil her all you want.”
Hanzo scoffed playfully at that. “ Me ? You think I will be the one to spoil her? Jesse, you’ve bought her flowers and chocolate and cake on more than one occasion just in the two weeks she was on leave. If anyone is going to spoil her, it’s going to be you.”
Jesse laughed, pressing a kiss to Hanzo’s nose. “‘Spose we’ll have to see about that one, Han.”
“Ah, there you boys are, we’ve been looking for you.” Ana pushed her way through the foliage, raising an eyebrow at the dragon currently splayed across Jesse’s shoulder, but said nothing about it. “We’ve received a major update. Talon has contacted us. They’re proposing a trade.”
Jesse stood up straight, nearly knocking the dragon off his shoulders, his brows furrowed. “A trade?”
Ana nodded, discreetly pulling a dog biscuit out of her pocket as the other dragon bounded over, curious, and fed it to him. “We have a few high profile Talon agents currently incarcerated here. They’re willing to trade Briallen for a few of them. Nothing’s been confirmed yet, but she should be home before Christmas.”
Notes:
I'm so sorry about the shorter chapter today. I've been struggling a bit mentally and dealing with a lot of shit at home and this is what I could get out for now. Over Easy is something I use to escape and is a sort of comfort project, even if it stresses me out sometimes. Still waiting on questions for a Q/A. You can leave them in the comments or send me a pm on tumblr!
Chapter 21: Shall We Part, Sweet Girl?
Chapter Text
The air on the transport would be chilled to dampen her abilities, and the meeting location was supposed to be somewhere in northern Russia, where it was nice and freezing this time of year. Gabriel knew from past experience if they kept the air at a certain temperature, they would have an easier time controlling her. She’d be drowsy, sure, but she’d be cognizant and slow; they didn’t want to pass her off unconscious. Anything lower and she’d start falling asleep. It was one of the downsides to her mutation; her lower blood cell count and her genetics made her more sensitive to the cold, and hibernation kicked in quickly if the temperatures were too low. There was a reason she avoided the colder climate missions back in her old Organic Omnic days. It was also one of the reasons she was explicably fond of his high body heat before he’d become the Reaper.
Gabriel sighed, reaching into his drawer to pull out an old photo of the two of them. She’d been so happy back then, or so he’d thought. The smile on her face surely said she was. She had certainly enjoyed his company, enough so that she’d said yes when he proposed, and then she disappeared, granted, that was a few years later. Where had she gone? Why did she believe he abandoned her? Why was she with Overwatch?
“Are you accompanying us, Gabriel?” Moira asked, stepping into his office without knocking, startling the man.
He grunted and hastily shoved the picture back into his desk, glaring at the doctor as she inspected him with those strange eyes of hers. “No. It’s bad enough I’m handing her over to Overwatch of all places. I should be returning her to Aderyn, maybe see about getting that memory chip readjusted,” he murmured, shaking his head as he folded his hands. “But we need agents Cherico and Sweggler, they’re crucial to our next step… And I’d like to cut ties with Organic Omnics as soon as possible. Aderyn’s plans are changing and they don’t mesh well with our own.”
Gabriel swore he could see the edges of her lips curl up in a smirk. “You’re going soft, Reyes,” she said, apparently amused by the prospect. “We could very easily persuade her to join our side, you are aware of this, correct? It would be simple, especially since we need only draw on the protocols Aderyn put in place.”
“We don’t have time, Moira,” he grumbled, rubbing at his temple a bit. “And even if we did, we are not turning my ex-fiancé into a sleeper agent. She may still come to us, now that she knows about the chip. If she turns to Angela or even, god forbid, Morrison, and gets that chip reinstated, who knows where her allegiances will lie. She knows she’s welcome back if she changes her mind.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. The point is, if Aderyn continues on the route she is right now, we might have a problem, and a possible ally down the road is better than none.”
“And just what is my old partner getting up to? Surely it cannot stray too far from our own objectives,” she said, somewhat sniffily. It was very clear that Moira adored Aderyn, for what reasons Gabriel couldn’t begin to imagine. It wasn’t hero worship, that’s for sure, and thank god it wasn’t. The world didn’t need two Aderyns, and Talon wouldn’t be able to handle all those genetic mutants. It was a miracle Aderyn handled hers so well. No, that was a lie. Gabriel knew exactly how she did it, and while he commended her for being able to do it on such a large scale, the act of brainwashing so many children into following her blindly made him a little queasy.
“She wants to take over Ireland, claim it as her own. I can’t tell if she’s gone crazy in her old age or if she’s planning something on a wider scale, but if she takes Ireland, that presents us with a problem,” Gabriel sighed, standing so he could pace a bit. “She already dislikes playing nice with us, her mutants are causing trouble in the ranks, and if she gets such a high position of power, she’s coming straight for us. After all, she views us as competition. Maybe she might go after Arachnid first, if she hears about what they did to her poor Wasp, but I’m hoping we can keep that a secret by whatever means necessary. There is no reason Aderyn should know Morrigan is back.”
“Gabriel Reyes, are you planning on using Aderyn’s own weapon against her?” Moira sounded surprised and amused.
“I plan on trying,” he admitted, nodding grimly. “None of this leaves this room. We can’t afford to have her come after us right now.”
Moira nodded, grinning a bit. “Of course.”
“Hey, chica , I heard you’re going home!”
You looked up in surprise, not expecting to find Sombra of all people seeing you off onto the transport. It’d hurt a bit that Gabriel refused to come, but you had a feeling you understood. You’d feel upset too if you’d spent so much time looking for your fiancé only to find they were a completely different person who had moved on considerably. At least he wasn’t trying to keep you here with him.
You smiled a bit, looking between her and the guards. “Uh, yeah, I-I am,” you said, unsure if you were even really allowed to have a conversation with her.
The hacker’s eyes narrowed and she waved her hands at the guards around you. “Can we talk in private, please? Girls need some space, you know, and I’ve got clearance to watch her.” She waved a bit as they walked off, giving you a cheeky grin. “I don’t know how you can breathe with their heads so far up your ass, amiga .”
You chuckled, shrugging. “It shouldn’t be for too much longer now. They’re trading me off today, I think. From the gossip I heard, I’m apparently worth two high ranking agents, so I guess that’s a confidence booster.”
“Don’t get too big a head over it, Cherico and Sweggler are major asses. You’re much better company,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder and walking you towards the transport. “Speaking of good company, I’ve got a favour to ask you. I know I don’t have much leverage with you, so I’m asking you to do this out of sheer goodwill, and I think I’ve built up enough of that with how much food I’ve made you over the past two months.”
You nodded a bit, skeptical. “You have given me a lot of good food… Just as long as it isn’t feeding you information or killing someone, I’d be happy to help.”
Her smile lit up a bit, though she looked sad, almost worried. “ Gracias, amiga. I’ve got a friend on the other side, and they left some of their stuff here, important stuff that I know they need. Do you think you could get it to them?” She waved her hand and a small gas mask and a few vials of a thick yellow liquid appeared in a flash of purple light.
You paused, blinking. That mask belonged to Bird, and you suspected that yellow stuff was some kind of medication they took. Wait, Bird was with Overwatch? You frowned, nodding and taking the items from her. “Of course. How long have they been there?”
“Too long. Now, please, get that to them as soon as you can. I don’t want to think about what they’ve been doing without it,” she said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t think I want to either. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to get it to them. Thank you, Sombra,” you said, offering her a small smile. “For looking out for them and the delicious food you made me. If we ever end up working together, remind me to make you a banoffee pie, I’ve been told mine are delicious.”
Sombra’s grin widened and all those hints of worry melted away as your guards came back, miffed and obviously ready to get going, O’Deorain on their heels. “Of course! They needed more friends. You take good care of them now.” With that and a quick wave, she disappeared in a flash of light, leaving you with your entourage.
“What is that you’re carrying?” asked Moira, who looked mostly disinterested.
“Just a gift for a friend. Can we get going? I’m told I’ve got a nap waiting for me,” you said, gently shoving the vials into your pockets so you wouldn’t drop them.
Sure enough, you had fallen asleep on the transport, the cold air making you drowsy and sending you into a light hibernation. It was refreshing, though, and it meant that you didn’t feel obligated to make awkward small talk with O’Deorain.
The landing was what woke you. It was rough, rougher than you’d expected, and you looked out the window to see what had caused it. Through blurry eyes you could see an endless sea of snowy fields, a snow-covered tree or two breaking up the landscape. The sky was a dark grey, threatening a blizzard sometime within the next few hours. The sight made you shiver involuntarily, already dreading having to go out into that.
Reaching into your pocket, you fingered the little raven skull talisman Gabriel had given you, recounting that last conversation. “For if you ever need to come back,” he’d said, pushing the talisman into your hands. “There’s a little shop in Annecy, France, The Raven’s Head.” He’d walked away before you could’ve asked any questions or refused the trinket, so you were stuck with it. You contemplated tossing it out once you stepped foot in that snowy field, but you had a gut feeling you shouldn’t, so you left it where it was.
“You’re awake. Good,” O’Deorain said, standing and almost immediately performing a quick once-over on you, flashing that damned light in your eyes again. “That was your first hibernation in years, I was worried there might be some drawbacks. How are you feeling?”
“Can you stop waving that damn light in my eyes?” You grunted and waved her away, fighting back a yawn as you blinked furiously. “Still drowsy, but I’m awake. I think I can walk on my own. What’s the temperature outside?”
“Nearly negative forty degrees.”
“Celsius or fahrenheit?” you asked, frowning.
“Does it matter?” she shot back, giving you a smug little smirk. “I would suggest bundling up as much as you can. We don’t want you passing out in the snow.”
You scowled a bit at her before you stood, grabbing the coat that she held out to you. It was thick, but most likely not enough to keep your body heat fully in, and you knew it would be a while until you were able to think without having a few cobwebs clouding your thoughts.
The transport door fell open, a blast of frigid air ran through the ship, making you clutch the coat closer to you. Desperate for some kind of heat, you flexed the muscles of your wings, letting them warm you up the little they could. It wasn’t going to be enough to get rid of this lingering fog, but it would keep you awake until you were free again.
Two of the soldiers walked you out, each with a hand on your elbows, and stopped you right outside the transport, facing the ship that slowly lowered itself into the snow. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes, that ship, large and inviting, sporting the Overwatch logo on the side. It filled you with a sense of relief; that was your ticket out of here, that was your way home.
You watched as two men were frog marched out of the ship by agents you didn’t recognise, followed quickly by a familiar face. It was hard to see his emotions from so far away, but you swore you could see Hanzo relax just at the sight of your silhouette.
He came forward with the agents, his eyes widening as you were pulled closer too. You’d forgotten that it might be a shock to see you like this, your mutations fully grown in, and you suddenly felt a pang of fear. What if this changed his mind? When he had kissed you, you’d been normal old Briallen, now, you were changed with no prospect of or wanting to return to how you were before, and Hanzo hadn’t known about your mutations. Or did he? Jesse could have easily talked with him about it, after all, it was an important part of you and if they were talking about taking you in as their third, well, he would have to know, right?
The hands on your elbows disappeared and you were shoved forward lightly, almost sent tumbling into the snow. With a huff, you righted yourself, and hurried over to your partner with as much dignity as you could manage, passing by the Talon soldiers who regarded you curiously.
“Which CO is she banging to be worth the both of us?” one of them whispered, making the other chuckle.
You just rolled your eyes at them, wanting nothing more than to be on the warm ship going home.
You didn’t know what you were expecting from Hanzo, but a simple nod and a hand on your back as you were led towards the ship wasn’t it. It stung a bit, and the fear you’d felt earlier rooted itself deeper into your chest as you were helped onto the ship by one of the medical staff onboard. The warmth of the ship was a godsend and you relished in it, feeling that heavy fog around your mind start to fade.
“Welcome back, Miss Marsh,” Athena’s voice called from the speakers, a clear relief to her words, which worried you a bit. Since when could she feel relief? “It is good to see you’re alright. I see you’ve gotten upgrades!”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her child-like enthusiasm and the way she phrased it. “I suppose you could call them that, yes. I missed you too, Athena. How much did I miss while I was gone?” you asked, peeling the coat off and stretching out your wings behind you. They trembled from the stretch before they settled back down.
“Not much,” she said, pausing for a second before she spoke again. “Doctor Zeigler is happy to hear you’re well and asks you visit her immediately when we arrive.”
You smiled wryly, nodding. “Of course. How upset is she?”
“Mildly. She’s more worried about your health and any… unsavory changes Doctor O’Deorain might have made. You do feel fine, don’t you?”
“That was just what I was about to ask you,” Hanzo murmured, stepping back onto the ship, the door closing behind him. He smiled as you turned around to face him and opened his arms in an invitation, which you quickly took.
You buried yourself into his chest, that fear from earlier beginning to fade a bit as you lost yourself in the embrace. His scent washed over you, stronger now thanks to your increased senses, and it brought a wave of comfort and relief with it. The relief was intense, so much weight taken off your shoulders, from so many different angles; he was alive, he’d survived the transfusions, you knew you were a universal donor, but there was always the possibility that his body wouldn’t take your blood, but here he was, standing before you on his own two feet, as fine as he could be; he wasn’t daunted by the changes you’d gone through, you’d been worried that things might change when you had, and while you knew Jesse insisted that nothing would, it was always going to be a fear of yours, and Hanzo was proving that fear to be irrelevant; and this felt right. Of all your worries, of all your fears, the one that had been niggling you ever since you’d started to regain your memories, was that whatever you’d had, whatever relationships you’d started to form with Jesse and Hanzo, that they would crumble under the weight of your old engagement, that somehow those feelings for Gabriel would trump them. But that turned out to be all untrue, here you were, happily locked in his embrace, heart swelling with so many emotions, so much affection, and none of it had changed.
“Hachi,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he held you tighter, his fingers running through your hair as he buried his face into your shoulder. “I was so worried… Jesse said you’d be fine but I-”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head, chuckling as your throat tightened, a few tears lining your eyes as you squeezed them shut. “I didn’t mean to worry you, I just… I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost you, and if it meant going with Gabriel to keep you safe, hell, I’d do it again. For you or Jesse.” You clutched at his shirt, shaking your head again. “I was so worried about you, about the transfusion not taking and the backup not getting there in time and-”
He cut you off with a soft hush, pulling back to cup your face between his warm hands, rubbing his thumbs against your cheekbones. He looked down at you for a long moment with this silly little grin, constantly brushing his thumbs along your skin, tracing the scars, as if to really prove to himself that you were here. When he was satisfied, his smile widened and he brushed your hair away from your face, leaning forward to press your foreheads together, closing his eyes. “I’m fine, Hachi, you saved my life. Now, promise me you won’t ever do that again. You nearly killed yourself,” he said, opening his eyes to look back up at you.
You chuckled, reaching up to lay your hands over his. “As long as you promise not to get stabbed by an errant kid again.”
He laughed softly, a real laugh that made you smile. “That I can promise, Hachi,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips.
There was a cough behind you. “Uh, Miss Marsh, we should perform an eval as soon as possible,” one of the med staff said gently, looking nervously between you two, a little bag of medical supplies held up to his chest.
Hanzo scowled at him, and you just laughed, cupping his cheek. “It’ll only take them a few minutes, Han. Then you can have me for the rest of the trip, okay?”
He grunted, leaning into your touch and reluctantly letting you pull away to begin your evaluation. There were so many conflicted emotions in those brown eyes, and he insisted on holding one of your hands when you sat down.
It was quick, just a quick evaluation of your current status, a little bit of information to alert Angela of the state you were currently in. You answered all of the questions to the best of your ability, explaining in as few words as possible about your mutation status, and allowed them to take a small blood sample to start analysing on the trip back.
When they were done, you turned back to Hanzo, who wrapped an arm around your back, tucked neatly under your wings. He leaned his head onto your shoulder, his fingers playing with your own, and was quiet for a bit.
“You’ve changed, Hachi,” he murmured finally, looking down at you and searching your gaze. “Your eyes are more burdened than they were back in Norfolk. What do you remember?”
You stiffened a bit, surprised by the question, but not surprised he realised it. Hanzo was a lot more perceptive than he appeared to be, a lot more so than Jesse was. “I, um… enough. Morrigan hurt a lot of people, Han. A lot of good people who didn’t deserve it. I think… I want to become an agent, to go out and do good things, but she spent so much time hurting people… I want to do the opposite. I want to make up for what she’s done. I think I’m going to start taking lessons from Angela, become a field medic. No more blood transfusions, though,” you added quickly, feeling Hanzo tense beside you. “I want to help people, but I’m not going to almost kill myself again.”
He nodded, lacing your fingers together. “I think that is something you will excel at, Hachi. The saving people, not almost killing yourself. Though, with your current track record,” he said, offering you a playful smirk.
You scoffed and gave him a light shove with your shoulder. “One mission and one ambush! I don’t have enough missions under my belt for a track record yet!”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Maybe not now, Hachi. We’ll see.”
“Bastard,” you grumped, though you couldn’t help but smile.
By the time you arrived back at headquarters, it was well past dinner, and you were starving. You were told there were agents gathered in the hangar, waiting for your arrival, and, frankly? That made you nervous. No one outside of Jesse, Angela, and Hanzo really knew about your mutations, so it would be a shock. You could already see Lena going off about O’Deorain doing some awful experimentations on you, Lucio looking on in horror at the changes done, maybe Hana would think they’re cool. But, then, you’d have to explain how these changes were always a part of you, your genetic code had just been turned off for a while. You worried about how they would react, about how people would see you now. Your emotions must have shown on your face because Hanzo chuckled, squeezing your hand.
“Don’t worry so much, Hachi. You’re still you, just with a few cosmetic changes,” he assured, giving you a smile.
You took a deep breath as you moved to stand beside him, trying to put those fears to rest. “I… I guess you’re right.”
“I’m right more often than you think I am,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and kissing your temple quickly before he stepped up to the door as it opened and the rest of the staff disembarked. He hugged the man standing at the bottom, holding him tightly before he pulled away and you got a good look at his face.
Your blood went cold.
Your eyes locked on Jesse’s face, all smiles and bright eyes, and, in place of the wave of affection you’d expected, there was anger, hatred, and a despicable urge to leap down there and-
‘ Kill him. ’
A flash of a memory, profiles, folders, headshots of the agents you were tasked with hunting down. Angela, Lena, Ana, Jesse.
‘ They hurt you. They hurt Mother. They needed to be eliminated .’
“Briallen?” Jesse asked, concerned. You could see the worry in his face, could see the concern. But you couldn’t indulge him.
“Stay away,” you croaked, taking a step back even as he took one forward. You were afraid of what you might do, afraid of what these urges were telling you to do. “Jesse, please.” Your hand clenched into a fit, nails biting into your palm as you fought against yourself. You felt like you were going to be sick.
“Darlin’, I-”
“Jesse, don’t! Stay back!” you shouted, breathing heavily from the exertion. This wasn’t you. Jesse wasn’t a threat, he wasn’t. Morrigan had no control over you, she didn’t-
“Briallen, love, is everything okay?” Lena asked, coming into view.
The urge grew stronger and you jerked forward, your vision switching for just a moment before you blinked it back. “Lena, don’t come any closer, please.”
Lena and Jesse shared a look, and you saw the thoughts passing between them. Before your friend could blink onto the ship, you lunged forward, smashing your fist against the button for the ship’s hatch, forcing yourself to stay there until it was closed.
“Athena, lock this ship, don’t let anyone in. Not even the Strike Commander. Consider me hostile,” you said, leaning against the wall as you shook. You couldn’t believe what was happening. You know you’d been sent out to eliminate a specific set of agents, but this?
Aderyn had brain washed you, you realised, and somehow, after all those years, after losing those memories, it still affected you. And now you were a danger to your friends and your partners.
Chapter 22: Thy Honey Turns To Gall, Thy Joy To Grief!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Miss Marsh? I have multiple requests from a variety of agents asking about your status,” Athena probed gently. You could hear the hesitancy in her voice, and you almost laughed. Of course she was more than just an AI, just of course. She was designed by Winston, after all. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise. She was piloting a little drone at the moment, a little torpedo-shaped body that hovered near your knees.
You kept your hands tucked into your hair, back still pressed against the wall underneath the hatch button. It had been at least an hour since you’d seen Jesse, since you’d realised what Aderyn had done to you, since you realised you were a threat. Soon after the hatch had closed, you’d fallen into a panic attack, which had since faded, leaving you feeling more hungry and increasingly stressed. You couldn’t leave the ship, not with the possibility of running into any number of high level agents, to most of which you were a major threat. It had been a miracle you’d been able to restrain yourself from literally flying out of the ship to attack Jesse, and when Lena had showed up, you knew you wouldn’t have been able to hold yourself back anymore.
“How many are outside the ship right now, Athena?” you asked, because you needed to know.
“Currently only four. Jack, Angela, Hanzo, and Jesse. They’re all very worried about you, Briallen.” The drone bobbed, lightly bumping against your knees to garner your attention. “As am I.”
You sighed, tugging your fingers out of your hair and resting your arms on your knees. ‘ Put yourself in their shoes, Briallen… They’re worried about you, they don’t know what’s going on and they need to… You can’t stay hiding in this ship forever. ’ “Okay. Does this ship have a set of speakers on the outside?”
“No, but I can project your voice through my speakers, would that work?”
You nodded, looking down at the drone. “Okay, go ahead.” You waited a couple seconds until the drone bobbed again and you knew the connection had been secured. “I’m okay,” you said, voice hoarse from the panic attack. “I’m… Athena, how many low level agents are in the hangar?” You wanted to keep this as private and classified as possible for the time being.
“None, it’s only Jack, Angela, Hanzo, and Jesse.”
“Aderyn… She, I-” your throat closed up at the thought of it all again. You just couldn’t catch a break, it’d been one thing right after another; Dean, and Gibs, and then the abduction, and the procedure, and now this? You were tired, so, so tired, and you wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep and wake up to find everything back to normal. But you knew that wouldn’t happen. “Aderyn brainwashed me. I… I don’t know when, I don’t remember when, but… I have a kill list. Three fourths of you are on it.”
Silence greeted you for a few moments, and you could hear the soft hum of Athena’s voice through the walls of the ship, and then there was Angela, speaking through the drone.
“What do you want us to do?”
You snorted, shaking your head as you rubbed your temple. She was leaving this up to you, of course she was. “I-uhm… I can’t look at any of you, I think that’s what triggers it. I can hear you just fine and I don’t feel like killing you,” you said, laughing humourlessly. “You need to contain me, I know. But if I see any of your faces, I don’t know what I’m going to do… Angela, I really don’t know what to do. I’m tired, I’m starving, I can’t think straight.”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, Briallen,” that was Jack’s voice, all tough and dad-like. You could hear the concern buried beneath the “Strike Commander” voice, and it made you wince. “We’re going to send in a group of low level agents, fresh faces. We’ll clear the halls to the room for you, you just need to be calm, okay? We’ll leave the hangar so you don’t have to worry.”
“Don’t you worry, darlin’, we’re gonna get through this,” Jesse said, the sound of his voice making your heart hurt a bit. “Everythin’s gonna be okay, you hear me?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, not letting yourself cry, not again. “Yeah, I hear you… I’m sorry, Jesse,” you said, voice cracking as you fought to maintain composure. “I just… I knew I was going to do something bad if you got any closer and I-”
“I understand, pumpkin, don’t worry about it. Focus on getting yourself outta that ship and somewhere more comfortable first, okay?” You could hear the smile in his voice and it made you smile a bit. You didn’t know how he did it, but his voice had always been so soothing and it helped relieve some of the fear.
“Okay... I love you, Jesse,” you whispered, not sure if Athena’s drone would pick it up. At first, you were sure it didn’t, and you were okay with that. It felt a little early to be saying that, but it was true. You’d loved Jesse before you’d felt anything romantic towards him, and you still loved him now, but maybe in a different way than you had before.
“I love you too, darlin’. Now, let’s get out of here. The faster we can get you off that ship and somewhere safe, the faster we can help you.”
You felt your ears flush at his words, and your heart stuttered, but you smiled, sure it was the same stupid grin Jesse got whenever he looked at you for too long. You think you understood it now, how easily it came, how hard it was to get rid of, how much it meant. There was still a fear, a mean panic, in your chest, but his words eased it down from a roaring flame into a quiet smolder. You thought about asking Hanzo to stay, but decided against it. This was something you needed to do on your own.
“Do you need a hug, Miss Marsh?” Athena asked after a while, when you were sure everyone had left the hangar. “I may not have arms, but I can overclock the drone a bit to increase internal temperatures and provide a unique snuggling experience.”
You laughed, not at all shocked to hear how proud she sounded, rather more intrigued by her offer. “Uhm, I-... Yeah, I guess I do need a hug,” you admitted, shifting a bit to make room for the drone on your lap.
“Prepare for hug initiation in three, two, one.”
The drone settled onto your lap, its little thrusters shutting off, and a warm heat emanating from the core. It was surprisingly calming to hold the drone in your arms, tucked against your chest, and you realised how touch starved this last month had made you. You’d been so used to Jesse’s little touches here and there, his hugs and what felt like platonic kisses - you doubted they’d been anything of the sort now -, and Hanzo’s more distant shoulder pats and the discreet brush of his fingers against yours. There’d been nothing like that in Talon, hardly any contact for a month. How long would you have to wait?
You didn’t know how much time had passed before there was a knock in the ship’s hatch and a voice calling for your attention. It was time to go.
They put her in an interrogation room. A fucking interrogation room. She’d been alone with Talon for just over a month, put through god knows what, and they put her in one of those cold interrogation rooms, soon to be accompanied by someone she didn’t know, who would pester her with question after question when she’d already expressed she was tired and hungry and probably just needed some good company and some sleep, and maybe a therapist. And, through all of this, they expected him to sit quietly and watch.
“Don’t look so sour, Jesse, you’ll get wrinkles,” Angela sighed, settling down in the seat next to him. She was frowning as well, looking in at the woman sitting in the chair, her knees pulled up to her chest, her wings splayed out over the chair back.
“It feels like we’ve caged her in a fucking zoo,” Jesse grumbled, scowling. “Do we really have to do this now, Doc? She just got back home.”
“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Jesse. This is Jack’s idea. I would rather have my medical staff give her a physical and let her sleep. Tea?” she asked, offering up her tumbler. Her eyes never left Briallen, as if they were scanning the woman for any injuries or cataloguing the differences between this version of Briallen and the one who had left for Norfolk a month ago.
Jesse sighed and relented a bit, taking a sip of the tea and coughing in surprise. It was some mix of chamomile and mint, a flavour he recognised had come from Ana’s stash. There was also vodka in it. “Don’t let Ana catch you with this,” he murmured, handing the tumbler back with a wry smile. “She might take you to task, ‘specially since you spiked it.”
Angela just scoffed, watching as the old captain in question stepped into the observation room, Winston on her heels. “I’d like to see her try… Briallen’s gotten smaller,” she noted, looking back into the white-tiled room tucked away behind the pane of one-way glass. “She used to be, what, five three? She looks like she shrunk a few inches.”
Jesse nodded. “Hanzo mentioned somethin’ of the sort. Said she comes up to just above his shoulders now.” He scowled when Jack stepped in, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Commander,” he said through grit teeth.
Jack just looked down at him, his eyes sad, and sighed. “Don’t look at me like that, Jesse. I didn’t want to do this either, but it needs to be done. We need to know what happened, what she knows, and who’s in danger.”
“And we couldn’t figure that out just by askin’ her? She’s terrified, Jack! She’s terrified, exhausted, and starvin’ from what she told us back in the hangar! Briallen ain’t a double agent, we know this,” he protested, standing up, much to Jack’s surprise. It wasn’t often that Jesse would stand up to his superiors, but if it meant saving Briallen from this? Jesse knew how bad interrogations could get, he’d been there to see Gérard Lacroix back in his glory days, and many of the people here who specialised in the same thing now took many things from Gérard’s book.
Jack’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Sit down, son.”
“I ain’t your son,” Jesse growled.
“Both of you sit down,” Ana snapped, looking between the two men. “Jack, Jesse has a point. Knowing Briallen’s past, if she was working for Talon, there were any number of ways she could have sabotaged us, and she hasn’t. You read the com transcript from the day she was abducted, that certainly wasn’t two co-conspirators reuniting.” She turned her fierce gaze on Jesse. “And while you do have a point, Jesse, you shouldn’t make it a habit of butting heads with your superiors, I know you are better than that. Jack also has a point, we don’t know what’s been done to her. Obviously her old genetic code has been reinstated, but other than that, we know nothing. It’s best to get this out of the way while we can. As for her being starving, I’ve taken the liberty of having Agent Garstka bring in something for her to eat. As soon as this is over, she will be escorted out and to a room on a secured floor away from high ranking agents until we can undo whatever the hell Aderyn did to that poor girl. Now, if you would both put your fangs away, we could get on with this and put an end to Miss Marsh’s misery.”
Jesse shrunk a bit under Ana’s gaze, tilting his hat to hide his eyes as he sat down. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, pointedly not looking at Jack, or the agent who walked in shortly after.
Dymitr Garstka was a paunchy young man, and exactly what you would expect from someone who gave their life to espionage. Nothing was ever given away in any of his smiles, and conversation with him always seemed to end up with you giving up a lot more information than you’d garnered from him. Jesse was not fond of the man, but he was the most likely person to prove Briallen’s innocence.
“Good evening everyone,” Garstka said, offering a cheery smile. He carried a platter of sandwiches with him and he seemed far too happy about the situation. “A lovely night, if I do say so myself.”
Jesse glared at him. “Garstka,” he said shortly, pushing his hat back. “If you hurt her, I’m gonna tan your hide and it ain’t gonna be pretty, you hear me?”
The man merely chuckled, looking fondly down at the cowboy. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Jesse. Your lover will not be harmed,” he said, his smile pointed and knowing. He didn’t wait to hear Jesse’s response, and instead headed inside the interrogation room, greeting Briallen with a warm smile and plenty of compliments, which made Jesse grit his teeth.
“I feel like we’ve led a lamb to its slaughter,” Angela murmured, taking a sip of her “tea” without flinching.
“It seems we have ourselves a bit of a problem, Panno Marsh,” Garstka said, sighing as he looked over at you from the table. His smile felt sincere, though you knew it probably wasn’t. There was something about his eyes that told you he didn’t really care about you, just that he was here and doing a job. “Let’s chat about that, shall we? I heard you were rescued from Talon earlier today, how was that?”
You looked between him and the sandwiches, your stomach growling, but you didn’t dare reach out for them. Overwatch or not, interrogators more often than not had a hook, and you didn’t really trust the one in front of you. “It sucked. I’m happy to be home,” you said shortly, trying to shove down the hunger. ‘ I just need to get through this interrogation, and then I- ’
Garstka chuckled and pushed the plate towards you. “Go ahead and eat, pani . I heard tell that you were hungry and was asked to bring something in for you. You didn’t get to eat on the way, did you?”
You shook your head, eyeing the sandwiches again, before looking back up at him. “The ship wasn’t retrofitted with a galley, I’m afraid,” you said dryly, shifting to place one foot on the floor. “This isn’t, like, a honey trap, is it? I know how you guys work, and I’m not interested in being coerced into talking. All you have to do is ask the questions and I will answer to the best of my abilities.”
Garstka chuckled again, shaking his head. There was a disappointed glint to his eyes, as if he was disappointed that you weren’t going to be more of a challenge. “Of course. The sandwiches are here for your comfort and wellbeing, Panno Marsh,” he said, gesturing towards the plate.
You hesitated again before you grunted and reached forward to grab one. Ham, cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes, plenty of protein and definitely enough to get your blood sugar back up if you ate your fill. You’d have to thank Angela for thinking about you. Garstka let you eat a few of the sandwiches in peace, handing you a water bottle after your second sandwich. Eventually though, you knew you couldn’t put off the interrogation and waved at him to continue.
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready to move on, piękny ?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
You frowned, looking quickly up at him. “Don’t call me that. I don’t like taking compliments from strangers, and I doubt my partners would enjoy it either.”
He actually looked surprised for a fraction of a second, his eyes widened just slightly before he reigned in his expressions. “You speak Polish? I wasn’t aware.”
“I don’t, actually. I have a translator in my head. I can translate what you said, but without pracitse, I wouldn’t be able to have a conversation with you in Polish,” you said, taking a drink.
Garstka folded his hands. “Do elaborate.”
Rolling your eyes, you pulled your knees back up to your chest, your wings twitching irritably. “Is talking about my processor really going to help clear me? Because if it isn’t I’d rather avoid talking about my personal programming.” It was weird to think you had programming, but you knew better than to think you didn’t have any, not with a good portion of your brain being metal to account for old memory storage and dealing with the strain of your enhancements.
“If you’ve been programmed, I believe we should be talking about it, especially considering who programmed you,” he said, giving you a slightly sardonic grin.
You frowned. “If I’d been programmed to do anything but survive, you’d think I would have sabotaged something by now, especially considering the fact that I work with the files of high level agents on a near daily basis. My programming has nothing to do with the brainwashing, if that’s what you’re getting at. It mimics that of omnic thought patterns and deals with the strain of my enhancements. A normal human brain would not be able to easily comprehend the onslaught of senses that come with my enhanced genetics.”
“And those would be?”
Frustrated, you blinked, and the world went blue. There were a few stains on the wall behind him and you grimaced. “You should clean this room better, or hire new people to clean up in here,” you said, blinking again to return the world to normal. There was a strange look on Garstka’s face which made you smirk a bit. “Along with the added input from that sight, my sense of smell has increased, and I can count to four,” you said, offering the man a wry smile. “Does that answer your questions, wścibski ?”
Garstka narrowed his eyes a bit, seeming to size you up. “You said that perfectly,” he noted.
Your wings twitched again and you listed your head to the side, tapping your fingers against your knees. “I must have had practise in a past life.”
He let out a fake sigh and shifted, crossing his ankles as he peered at you. “It seems I’ve misjudged you, Panno Marsh. From your file and the word of your colleagues, I assumed you’d be a smart, quiet, and shy young woman.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Well, I suppose being abducted by my ex-fiancé and rekindling old memories changed me a bit.”
Garstka grinned, leaning forward. “Ah, and now we come to the root of another problem. Let’s talk about Gabriel Reyes, shall we? Surely, you can see how this would be a concern for us.”
You shot him a glare. “You’re treading into unsanctioned territory,” you warned. “Gabriel Reyes has nothing to do with any of this.”
He folded his hands, his eyes offering a challenge. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, pani . Gabriel Reyes may have everything to do with this. You said you rekindled old memories, who’s to say your allegiances haven’t changed?”
“Gabriel Reyes is a traitor and a bastard. I much prefer my partners here, thank you.”
“Now you’re lying to me.”
Your eyes flashed and you had to fight the urge to leap across the table. “Gabriel Reyes abandoned me when I needed him most. I want nothing to do with him, I-”
“ If it meant going with Gabriel, hell, I’d do it again ,” your voice said through the speakers, and Garstka’s eyes glittered. He was enjoying this.
“Briseadh agus brú ort! Out of context and edited!” you growled, “Don’t you dare try to use my words against me. I’d much rather be taken by him if it meant saving the lives of any one of my friends! I would go through hell and back if it meant saving the lives of anyone I know and love!”
“Does that include Gabriel Reyes?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I-”
“I don’t think you’re telling the truth, Panno Marsh.”
“I am! If you would just-”
“Would you kill for Gabriel Reyes?”
“I-”
“Would you sabotage Overwatch for him?”
“N-”
“Would you give your life for him?”
“Ye-” You stopped yourself from finishing, slapping a hand over your mouth, but the damage was done. Garstka sat back in his seat with a wide smile, his eyes dangerous and hard. You hadn’t realised you still felt this way towards Gabriel, had known some part of you still loved him, but hadn’t realised how much. Your heart sunk in your chest and you glanced towards the mirror on your right, knowing you had an audience, knowing they just heard that. Throat closing up, you hugged your knees to your chest. “I am not a traitor,” you whispered into the silence that was your prison. “I did not bring any information to Talon, I did not plan the attack on the Knight’s estate, I have not betrayed my friends. I have the unfortunate displeasure of still holding a smoldering candle for Gabriel Reyes, but I would not betray my family for him.” You took a shuddering breath, wings trembling behind you. “I think I need a break.”
Garstka nodded, a knowing look on his face that gave away so much, and yet so little. “Of course, Panno Marsh. Take your time.”
Notes:
Translations
* pani - ma'am
* piękny - beautiful
* wścibski - nosy
* Briseadh agus brú ort - strife and stress upon you
Chapter 23: 'Tis The Bee's Wax
Chapter Text
To hear her confession, to hear that she still carried a torch for Jesse’s old commander definitely stung, but it was to be expected. If she was really remembering her time as Morrigan, there were bound to be emotions that persisted. He could only guess how much she remembered, how much she knew. Did she remember him? Young, cocky teenaged Jesse McCree, a fresh face in Blackwatch? He remembered her, she’d been older than him then, maybe a handful of years younger than the Commander, and he remembered how vicious she had been. He also remembered how… bothered the Commander had been to be investigating Organic Omnics, and Morrigan Morgan by association. He realised now that they must have been seeing each other at the time.
That didn’t mean he loved her any less, it was an unsavory part of her past, of course, but he’d seen how she changed, had now seen the person who’d resided under all that grooming and brainwashing Aderyn had done to her. She’d done some terrible things, sure, but who hadn’t? He certainly wasn’t clear of that either, not with his time in Deadlock or with Blackwatch.
“Do you know what it feels like to have another voice in your head besides your own, Agent Garstka?” Briallen asked, her voice so mellow and somber, full of so much grief that Jesse looked up in surprise. “Do you know what it’s like to remember doing things, terrible things, things you hadn’t known you’d done? Do you know what it’s like knowing that what you remember is only a fraction of your past and that there is so much more stuck there beneath the surface? Do you know that fear?”
Garstka leaned back in his chair, his gaze cool. “I can’t say that I do, Panno Marsh.”
She nodded, not looking up at him. Her gaze was focused on the table, her arms wrapped around her knees. “I do. I feel that fear even now. Morrigan did terrible things, and I can only remember a fraction of what she did… I remember recalling my relationship with Gabriel Reyes, remember how much she had cared for him… I remember worrying that, with these new found memories and emotions, that I would no longer hold the same affection for-” she stopped herself, looking over towards the glass and inadvertently meeting Jesse’s gaze, though Jesse knew she’d only been looking at her reflection in the mirror. “For a certain few back home,” she murmured, looking away. “But I was worried for nothing.”
Garstka nodded. He’d dropped most of his antagonistic act now, knowing he’d gotten through some of her barriers. From experience, Jesse knew he’d pick it up again if she put up any resistance. “You are a very loyal person at heart, pani . Why don’t you tell me what happened when you reunited with Gabriel Reyes? What happened at Talon?”
She took a shuddering breath, her wings fluttering and adjusting themselves. “Well, I didn’t realise who he was at first, which seemed to surprise him. I don’t think he knew what had happened to me. He was… upset when he found me with Hanzo. I couldn’t see his face, but some part of me recognised it in his speech patterns. Gabriel didn’t visit me for a while. I don’t know how long it was, I believe they had the lights set on a timer for sleep deprivation. They wanted me to talk.”
“And did you talk?” Garstka probed, raising an eyebrow.
She offered him a wicked smile. “I talked, but not about Overwatch and not to him. I made a friend, a little bird, you could say. They were a prisoner, like me, except they got “walking privileges”. They’d visit my cell from time to time, talking about where they went, what kind of mood Gabriel was in, how the base was a living nightmare, that kind of stuff. The last time I saw them, we talked about escaping together, made an alliance. But, then they disappeared, I assume because they were taken into Overwatch custody.”
Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course she made friends with Jay,” he murmured, smiling to himself. “She’s always been good in pickin’ out friends.”
“Maybe not lovers,” Angela murmured back, a cruel, playful grin pointed at him. “But friends, yes.”
“You wound me, Doc,” Jesse groaned, laying a hand over his chest.
“And what happened when you saw Gabriel again?” Garstka asked, drawing Jesse’s attention back to the interrogation.
“I yelled at him.”
Garstka paused, blinking. “You yelled at him?”
“Yeah, he threatened my friend, saying something about the fact that they shouldn’t have been there and then began cursing them in Spanish, acting like I didn’t understand a word he was saying. And then I yelled at him for abandoning me. I made it extremely clear that I’m not Morrigan, not anymore, and that the woman he loved was gone.”
“But, you are Morrigan, are you not?”
Jesse watched as Briallen’s eyes hardened, wings twitching dangerously. “No,” she said, voice clipped and sharp. “I am not. Morrigan Morgan was a murderous criminal. She and I may share a body, but we are nothing alike.”
There was a flicker of emotion on Garstka’s face, too quick for Jesse to catch, but Briallen had. She tensed, lifting her head and watching him carefully.
“Explain,” he said simply, gesturing to her with his hands, and she flinched.
“I’m unclear on what you want me to explain, Agent Garstka, I thought I made myself very clear,” she said slowly, looking like she was ready to leap out of her seat at a moment’s notice. There was nothing predatory about her body language, if anything, she looked almost scared, ready to bolt. Whatever she’d seen in his face had spooked her.
“You mentioned you heard a voice that wasn’t your own in your head earlier, and now you are saying you and Morrigan share a body. Is she speaking to you? Did you somehow develop another personality by rekindling those memories?”
She narrowed her eyes. “No. This is not a psych eval, sir. I would like it if we could move on.” There it was, she was putting up walls again. Jesse could see why, these topics made her very uncomfortable, these were questions even he wouldn’t ask her, but he wished she would stop being so damn defensive. Things would move a lot faster if she did.
“That isn’t entirely correct, Panno Marsh,” Garstka said, shaking his head. “It’s my job to assess what happened and where you are right now, to determine if you’re a threat to everyone in this base. And right now, it’s sounding like you are. Now, I’m sure you don’t want to be a threat, or to be seen as one, so if you aren’t, you’d better start explaining things to me.”
“I am not Morrigan Morgan, she does not exist anywhere except in my memories. I hear her in my anger, I hear her in my memories, and I hear her in my judgement which says not to trust you as far as I can toss you, Agent Garstka,” she said lowly. “I heard her in the hangar when she told me I had targets to eliminate, and I chose to fight her. I think that proves I’m less of a threat than you’re painting me to be.” With that, she stood, putting distance between herself and Garstka. There was so much tension surrounding her, and her back muscles were pulled so taut, Jesse could see the bits of fuzz at the bases of her wings trembling.
Garstka didn’t move, watching her with a keen eye. No doubt he could sense he was getting somewhere, needling her until he found those sore spots, and no doubt he was getting frustrated he couldn’t prove she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. “How did you fight it? The brainwashing Doctor Morgan is known for is extremely powerful and nearly unbreakable by the subject without outside help. It should have been impossible for you to resist the urge to kill him.”
She hesitated, wincing and drawing her arms up to hug her chest as she glanced back out at the glass. “It… It was Jesse’s face. I saw it and I knew he wasn’t… I couldn’t do that to him. It was hard, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t hurt him. Uhm,” she shook her head, bringing her hand up to rub her fingers across her lips, looking down at the ground. “Just the thought of hurting him like that, it made me sick. My brain went through all the ways I could…” Her voice caught in her throat and she cleared it, shaking her head again. “All the ways I could kill him. And I just couldn’t. And then Lena showed up, and it got even harder. Gods, I love Lena, but… she was a threat. That’s what I knew. They hurt me, they hurt Mother, that’s what went through my mind, on repeat, like a fucked up mantra. They hurt me, they hurt Mother, they need to be eliminated… I don’t remember when she did it to me, it must be somewhere in that abyss of memories I can’t recall…” The look on her face was heartbreaking, like she didn’t know what she could trust when it came to herself, how terrifying that thought was, and then she shook it off like it hadn’t happened. “I don’t know how I did it, sir.”
“Do you think you could do it again?”
She gave him an alarmed look, her eyes wild and scared. “I don’t know, and I’d rather not test it if that can be avoided.”
Garstka nodded, narrowing his eyes just slightly before he waved his hands, looking away as he pulled out a pen. “Let’s go over that list of yours. Which agents are you a danger to, Panno Marsh?”
She flinched, drawing back a bit more, and Jesse wanted to reach in there and slap him. He already had Briallen where he wanted her, he didn’t need to torment her while he was at it.
Briallen cleared her throat, hugging herself tighter as she closed her eyes. “Uhm… Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Angela Ziegler, Cadan Johns, Winston, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Kamilla Ekern, Torbjörn Lindholm, Lena Oxton, Oliver Oxton, Olivier Depoorter, Genji Shimada, Noêmia Lopes, Jesse McCree, Masashige Kimiko, Nikolai Egland, Tazwell Adams…” The list went on, a lot longer than Jesse would’ve liked it to. He knew that a handful of the agents she’d mentioned were already dead, either by her hand, or someone else’s, he didn’t know.
“That’s a long list, Panno Marsh,” Garstka said, pursing his lips as he looked down at the list in front of him.
“I was a very effective agent,” she replied meekly, almost looking sick.
“You were a very effective pawn,” he corrected, shooting her a look. “Why on earth is reporter Oliver Oxton on your list?”
She just shook her head. “I don’t know sir, I only remember the faces and their names, not their transgressions.”
Garstka grunted, turning back to his list, making small notes.
Briallen shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at her arms. “Is.. Is that all?”
After a few moments, Garstka put down his pen and smiled at her. “Let’s talk about Gabriel Reyes again, shall we?”
Garstka kept her long into the night, which wasn’t against protocol, but it meant the commanding officers also had to stay. Jesse didn’t have to, but he did. He wasn’t about to leave her there alone with Garstka, and… he was hoping to talk to her afterward, if she would like. He couldn’t go into the room, of course, but with Athena’s help, he might be able to talk to her through the glass.
“She wants to become a field medic, you know,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on the girl in the glass. They had a short recess, allowing Briallen to eat a little more and gather herself again. Garstka had needled her to tears and couldn’t move on until she’d calmed down. Jesse hated watching this, but he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t abandon her.
Angela’s head snapped up in surprise. “What?”
“She was talkin’ with Hanzo about what she wants to do movin’ forward, before we found out about this.” He gestured to the window, watching as Briallen curled in on herself again. It hurt him to see her in so much distress, with him unable to do anything to soothe it. He ached to rush in there and just hold her until she felt safe, until she knew she was safe again. “She said Morrigan had hurt so many people and she wants to make up for it, wants to help people instead. God… she’s such a different creature than she were before. I remember when she wouldn’t’ve hesitated to rip my head off, and now?” he chuckled, letting his head droop as he looked down at the floor. “Now she’s the sweetest damn woman I ever met.”
Angela nodded. “Briallen Marsh is a far cry from the woman she used to be… I suppose we could use more field medics. It would be a while until she’d be allowed out on a mission unsupervised, but with the omnic part of her brain, I’m sure she’d be able to retain plenty of training a lot faster than most students, and her enhancements would make her a godsend in a pinch…” She frowned in thought, bouncing her foot.
“I just got one request, Doc?” Jesse looked up, his smile tired and weary. “Just make sure she’s good and ready before you send her out alone.”
Angela looked about ready to protest, possibly about to say something along the lines of “I’m not stupid, I’ve been at this a long time, I know not to send an untrained agent out into the field”, but then she paused and glanced back up at Briallen, her eyes tracing those scars, and she nodded. “Of course, Jesse. I would rather avoid her getting hurt as well, that is always the goal, isn’t it?” she asked, offering him a small smile and patting his hand.
Jesse sat quietly through the rest of the interrogation, even when the non-essential agents had left. By the time it was done, only he, Jack, Ana, and Winston were left. Reinhardt would be receiving a copy of the transcript as he was currently out on an op. It had taken too long, in Jesse’s opinion, far too long, but Briallen’s innocence had been proved. Tomorrow, Angela would set her up with a specialist to break through Aderyn’s brainwashing. Depending on how deep it went, Briallen would be “back to normal” in a month. Jesse knew better. There was no such thing as “back to normal” when it came to shit like this. Sure, she’d be able to look at people again, but she’d never be the same, not entirely.
He waited until his COs had left, waited until he was sure they were alone, before he stood and approached the glass, laying one hand against it. “Athena, if you would please?”
“Of course, Jesse. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Hey there, sweetpea,” he said, chuckling when Briallen jolted up in her seat, looking around. Her eyes were wide, as if afraid he’d show up in a corner or something. “Don’t worry, I’m not comin’ in. Love you to bits, sweetheart, but I seen you in action and I’m not lookin’ to lose another arm tonight.”
She smiled weakly, her exhaustion clear in her eyes, but she stood anyway, coming up to the glass with her arms crossed over her chest. “You have? I don’t remember… I’m sorry it turned out like this… I really wish it hadn’t. I was so looking forward to seeing you guys again…”
“I know. I’m a little to your left, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling as she shimmied over, her gaze sightlessly dancing around, focusing nowhere near him. “A little more, that’s it. There’s that pretty face.”
Her smile widened a bit and he saw her cheeks turn out a nice pink dusting. “And there’s that Southern charm. I missed you. It was lonely in Talon… I met a friend of yours, they said their name was Bird.”
“Yeah, Jay told me about you. I damn near pissed myself in relief when they told me you were okay,” his smile widened at her giggle, though some part of him felt it bittersweet. How he wished the glass between them could just disappear, he just wanted to hold her, to feel her fingers in his hair. She didn’t have to look at him, she was short enough that she could safely bury her face in his chest without looking at his face… But he knew that wasn’t going to happen, not for a long time, and he didn’t want to risk whatever emotional damage that might cost her. “Hanzo told me about what happened in Norfolk.”
Her cheeks darkened and she turned her head a bit, trying to hide her smile. “Yeah?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Said I interrupted a moment. Took you long enough, but you finally got him wrapped around your little finger. I think I might be right there with him.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “From what Hanzo told me, I’ve always had you wrapped around my finger.”
“Nah, not always. But I was fond of you from the beginning. It’s not every day you’re sent to go rescue a pretty civilian girl only to find she don’t need rescuin’. Gotta admit, sweetheart, you looked pretty hot.”
“I was covered in blood!” she protested, her eyes wide, but her smile unfading.
“And it was hot!” he laughed, shaking his head. “You looked like you’d hardly broken a sweat, and you had this look on your face…”
“Jesse McCree, you have such an odd taste in women,” she laughed, shaking her head at him. “Did you know who I was?”
“No. You looked familiar, but I didn’t know, not until later. But that don’t change anythin’, darlin’. I love you for who you are now, not who you were under all that brainwashing, you hear? And I will be here through all of this, no matter how long it takes, I’ll be waiting, do you understand me, missy? You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easily,” he said, his smile fading just a bit as his gaze sharpened. He would not abandon her, not when she needed him most.
She was quiet for a bit, and Jesse could see the battle of emotions in her eyes. But she wasn’t fighting herself, per say, more like trying to figure out how to respond. “Okay,” she said softly, nodding. She reached up, laying her hand on the glass where his rested. For a second, it felt like she could see him, but then he saw how her eyes focused around where his elbow would be and chalked it up to dumb luck.
“I love you, sugar, ain’t nothin’ gonna change that,” he said lowly, once again wishing they weren’t separated by this damn piece of glass. One month, one month with her home, one month with her safe. He could wait one more month.
Her smile was serene as she looked up past his shoulder. “I love you too, Jesse.”
Lena wasn’t surprised when Jesse walked out of the observation room with a thunderous, slightly murderous look on his face. He’d always been the protective type, of his friends and his partners, and he knew exactly who had hurt Briallen, which was bound to amplify that a bit. He, however, looked surprised to see her.
“Lena? What are you doin’ here? It’s late,” he said, blinking at her, some of that thunder beginning to fade.
“I was waiting for you, funnily enough. Walk and talk?” she suggested, offering him a small smile. There wasn’t much more she could offer him, not when she felt almost as upset as he did. She didn’t know who’d hurt her friend, just that her friend was hurt, and she had the innate urge to make sure that didn’t happen again.
Jesse gave a noncommittal shrug, which was slightly out of character for him, and began walking down the hall. “Just as long as you ain’t goin’ a mile a minute, speed racer,” he teased, though it fell flat.
Lena nodded and hurried to catch up with him, making sure to keep pace. “Is she okay?” she asked, first and foremost, because that was her friend and she needed to know.
“As okay as she can be. Got a nasty case of old brainwashing she’s got to get over, some memories she’s gotta compartmentalise, but she’s alive,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “There a reason you waited outside the O.R.?”
“I don’t like interrogations. They make me feel sick. You and your old Blackwatch chums have stronger stomachs than the rest of us,” she said, shaking her head. “Is there anything I can do?”
Jesse sighed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling as he walked, obviously chewing through a few thoughts. “Not right now. She needs company, that’s for sure, but you and I aren’t allowed anywhere near her until they’ve undone Aderyn’s programmin’. She also needs sleep, lots of it…”
Lena frowned. “That bad, huh? Blimey, never thought she would… Strike Commander’s written up a new op, just in case she- just in case something goes wrong. He’s got a taskforce assigned to keep her subdued, put me on it, can’t tell you why, though, I’ve never been good at actually fighting friends… That’s a bloody long list she’s got.”
Jesse nodded, clenching his jaw. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up the new op, no matter how curious she was about her father’s name being on the list. Whoops. “Of course he has,” he growled, and Lena had the distinct impression he was balling his hands into fists within the confines of his pockets. “Jack’s always “prepared”.”
“Hey,” she said, stopping and grabbing him by the arm. She looked earnestly up into his eyes. Jesse was her friend too, and she hated seeing him so upset, even if he had good reason. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Jesse. It’s just a contingency plan. We’ve got good specialists here who have proven they can undo the conditioning that comes from brainwashing. Briallen is going to be fine. I’ll make sure to send Lucio or Hana to her temporary quarters tomorrow so she has company, we already know Hanzo’s going to spend time down there with her. She isn’t going to have to get through this on her own, she has all of us.”
Jesse looked down at her, and for the first time, Lena could see how exhausted he was, physically and emotionally.
She sighed, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be alright, Jesse. We’ll make sure she gets through this okay, and then we’re all gonna baby her because she’s “Jack’s secret love child” and she’s gonna get frustrated and yell at us, but there’s not gonna be any venom in it because she knows we’re doing it out of love.”
““Jack’s secret love child”?” Jesse asked, incredulous.
Lena chuckled, shrugging. “It’s the rumour going ‘round. You’ve seen the way he dotes on her, how easy on her he is. Doesn’t help that they’re both blonde, stubborn, and loyal to a fault.”
“Huh,” Jesse shook his head, looking slightly amused. “You know, if I didn’t know for a fact that they ain’t related, I might be a little bit convinced.”
Lena smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, a bit. Thanks, Lena. Now, I’m starvin’. I’ve been in that O.R. for a long spell, I need somethin’ to eat.”
“I’ll race ya!” she said, perking up as a bit of her high-energy returned and she took off sprinting down the hallway.
Jesse just laughed as she sped away, calling after her. “Hey! That ain’t fair!”
Chapter 24: And Now, My Honey Love
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
You knew exactly where to cut the slits in your sweater, how to twist and turn your wings to slip them through the new slits, how to pat down the fuzz at the bases so it didn’t appear too lumpy under the fabric. Every move was smooth and practised, even if you hadn’t done them for well over seven years. You still felt bad about having to cut into your shirts though. Maybe Eugene could help design and tailor some blouses to fit you better, he’d certainly enjoy the challenge. You’d have to have him adjust your skirts as well, you’d lost quite a bit of body mass in the procedure, not only losing a few inches, but quite a few pounds as well, which meant you’d dropped a size or two.
The fabric felt strange against the chitin of your wings, sending a shiver down your back. They didn’t used to be this sensitive, you remembered, giving them an experimental flap. You watched as they stretched, elongating behind you, stretching out to reach the backs of your knees. That’s right, you’d forgotten they folded up when not in use. You should have realised that, really, how could wings so small lift you up into the air?
You flapped your wings again, smiling as they caught the light and glistened, showing off an array of iridescent colours. You’d forgotten they did that. When you gently pulled one closer to take a look, it bent slightly, showing off a great deal more flexibility than you’d thought they had. Your fingers traced some of the thick lines of chitin, holding back a chuckle at the tickle that came from the action. The wing felt soft under your touch, covered in a fine dusting of hair-like fibres which would allow them to lock together during flight. You released the limb, letting it flutter back into place.
‘ What does flying feel like? ’ you wondered, flexing those muscles as you looked into the mirror. You didn’t remember. You hadn’t tried to do it since the procedure, O’Deorain having warned you off about it, saying your wings were still developing and were nowhere near strong enough to lift you off the ground without breaking. She never did give a timeframe for how long it would take for them to harden completely. Given the fact that they were still bendy, you didn’t want to test anything out. Sighing, you rolled your shoulders back, hearing them crack as your wings shrunk back into place, tucked neatly against your back.
You looked up in the mirror to examine your scars again, because even after months of having them, you still forgot you had them, forgot what they looked like on your body, and you froze when you met your own gaze. Your eyes darkened, and a wicked grin split your lips. Your scars had disappeared. You recognised that face.
“No!” In a flash of fear and anger, you lashed out, fist shattering the glass before you could stop yourself. When you blinked, Morrigan no longer resided in the mirror and only your face, eyes wide and skin white as a sheet, peered back at you from the fractured splinters. You were panting, covered in a coating of cold sweat, and your hand ached. It took you a moment to gather yourself before you hurried to the bathroom to pull out the shards of glass before your hand could heal around them. It sucked and hurt like a bitch, and you let out more than one long curse as you did, but it didn’t even compare to how shaken you still were.
That wasn’t the first time you’d seen Morrigan in the mirror. It always happened when you were alone, when you didn’t expect it. You hadn’t told anyone, how could you? The obvious answer would be “Of course you’re seeing Morrigan, you two look exactly alike!” But you knew better. Morrigan’s eyes had a more sinister tint to them, her laugh lines were nearly invisible, and she was more gaunt. She was nothing like you.
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you disposed of the glass shards and washed the blood off your hands, trying to get the image of that warped smile out of your head. Your mind just laughed at you, replaying some of those gods awful memories which you wish you never recovered. You were helpless as Morrigan taunted you through them. Your ears rang as you stumbled into the living room, your vision blurring as whispers filled your head. You hadn’t realised you’d been saying anything, until your voice rose well above a whisper, anger bubbling up behind it.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” you screamed, fists gripping at your hair until you spotted a mug sitting on the counter. Without thinking, you grabbed it and whirled around, flinging it at the wall, as if by doing so you were throwing it at Morrigan herself. “Stop!”
The ringing and the whispers ceased when the china shattered against the wall, splashing cold coffee across the wallpaper. You were breathing raggedly, wings twitching behind you as you fought to gather yourself. It was getting worse. During your time in Talon, you’d only had one or two of these episodes after the procedure. Now, having been back at Overwatch for nearly three days, they were happening more frequently. This was your third one since the interrogation, and each episode was getting worse than the last.
You hadn’t thrown anything before, hadn’t smashed any glass. In fact, up until this point you’d been able to keep your anger contained and had been able to keep the mania at a minimum. Up until this point the episodes had only been somewhere between a minute and thirty seconds long. This one had lasted longer, at least two minutes by the look of the clock. You couldn’t tell if it was a side effect from the brainwashing or if it was a conflict between Morrigan’s personality or your own. You didn’t know, and not knowing scared you.
Trembling, you sank to your knees letting out a heavy sob. Finally, finally her voice was gone, finally you could hear yourself think, finally you were alone. The relief washed over you, followed quickly by a wave of exhaustion and you felt almost hollow. You were crying again, you realised. Gods, how often were you going to do that? It was kind of pathetic.
The door slid open and you looked up to find a very worried Hanzo looking in, his gaze scanning the room until he found you. His jaw was set, his eyes wide as he looked down at you. What a sight you must have been; skirts flared around you, makeup running down your face, your hair probably a wreck. You felt like disappearing into the floor.
“Hachi?” he asked, stepping cautiously into the room. His gaze never left you. “I heard shouting, are you okay?”
You blinked a couple times, trying to think. You didn’t want to explain it, didn’t want to tell him what happened. He’d think you’re unstable, dangerous, crazy. What would that do to your relationship? Would it ruin it? It probably would. He’d talk to Jesse, and Jesse would know, and then he’d never look at you with that stupid fucking love-sick grin of his again. “I… yeah, I’m okay,” you lied, trying for a smile, but ending up with a grimace.
Hanzo cocked his head, like he didn’t believe you. But he didn’t push it, just looked at you with the softest, most worried look he’d ever given you, and you broke. He was at your side in a fraction of a second, you didn’t even hear his feet hit the carpet before he swept you up and brought you to the couch. No doubt he noticed the shattered coffee mug and the stained wallpaper, but he didn’t comment on it, just sat you down on the couch, hands cupping your cheeks as he crouched down in front of you.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you blubbered, shaking your head. “I p-p-promise.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, the edges of his lips curling up just a bit as he ran his thumbs across your cheeks. “What do you need, Hachi?” he asked, listing his head a bit as he made sure you met his gaze.
“What?” you managed, sniffling and tugging at the hem of your sweater.
He chuckled, a soft, sweet sound that was surprisingly soothing. “What do you need right now? I can make you some coffee, I can go get you some comfort food, I can grab a blanket and just hold you. Whatever you need, sweetheart,” he said softly, smiling just the slightest bit.
Your heart stuttered and you paused, looking down at him. This was… new. You’d never been asked what you needed, everyone just assumed they knew best and you went along with it. You’d never had to think about it before. Also, pet names were exceedingly rare with Hanzo, you didn’t think you’d ever even heard him use one with Jesse. It threw you for a loop.
“No… No coffee,” you said finally, glancing over at the broken coffee mug. You sniffled, turning your gaze back to him. The way he looked at you, so open and expectant, made you ache. “I don’t-I don’t think I can eat anything right now… I don’t know what I want.”
“That is okay. Let’s start with things you don’t want, then. Do you want me to leave?”
“No, please!” You quickly shook your head, hands flying up to clasp at his wrists as your eyes widened. You didn’t want to be alone, a part of you was afraid you’d slip into another episode if you were.
He chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, Hachi. Are you cold?”
You shook your head again, finally having narrowed it down in your head. “Just.. hold me?” you asked tentatively, shuddering through a quiet sob.
He smiled, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as he stood. “As you wish, Hachi,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head before he settled down on the couch next to you.
You quickly climbed into his lap, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and tucked your hands against his chest, hiccuping softly. His scent washed over you, encompassing you as you closed your eyes, feeling his pulse in your fingers. Being smaller now, it was easier to lose yourself in his embrace, easier to feel completely encapsulated by him.
He did as he said he would, just sitting there and holding you until the hiccups and the threat of tears had subsided. You’d almost fallen asleep, but the knowledge that you had to talk about what happened kept you awake.
“I… I’m not okay,” you admitted, burrowing your face entirely into the side of his neck, not wanting or able to meet his gaze. “Ever since… Ever since I started remembering things, I’ve had these little episodes… It was only one or two at first, nothing bad, just a few seconds of anger, and then nothing, I was fine…”
“But today it got worse,” he said, nodding sagely. His voice rumbled through his chest, the vibrations soothing.
“Mmn.” You nodded. “I know I need to get help, but I can’t see Dr. Penn until after… After I’m no longer a threat to my friends. It got bad, Han,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I saw her in the mirror, and then she was fucking whispering to me. And it only went quiet after I threw the cup… I got so angry. It scares me.”
He hummed softly, thumb massaging a circle into your arm as he thought. “I’m sorry, Hachi. That does sound scary,” he murmured, nodding again. “But you’ll get through this. You are such a strong woman, I have no doubt. Jesse and I will be here for you too. If you need me I’m only a call away, you know this.”
You sat up in his lap, wiping the residual tears away from your cheeks as you met his gaze. Your fingers played across the slight stubble that littered his jaw. He hadn’t shaved recently. Your ran your palm against it, the resulting prickle grounding you in the moment, really cementing in the fact that he was here. You smiled as he turned his head, kissing your palm, and gently turned his head back to kiss him. Your wings quivered as he rested his hands lightly on your waist, letting you set the pace and determine how far to take it. When you pulled away, there was no complaint, no words, just a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of assurance; it was okay.
You couldn’t help the stupid smile you got, shaking your head at yourself as that emptiness slowly started to fade. “Gods, I’m a wreck,” you murmured, groaning at yourself as you rested your foreheads together, keeping his gaze. “Brainwashed, possibly psychotic, definitely depressed… I still don’t even know what we are.”
“That depends on what you want, Hachi,” he said quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’re the only one holding back.”
You blinked, a little surprised by that notion. It hit you then that, yeah, you really were the only one holding back. Both Jesse and Hanzo had expressed their desires in one way or another, you were the only one who hadn’t decided what she wanted. “I… I love Jesse and I definitely care about you,” you started, sitting back a bit, letting your hands fall into your lap as you looked away. “I think… I want the both of you… if-if you’ll have me.” It felt weird to say that, it felt strange to put it into words, but that’s the way it came out, and you cringed.
Hanzo just laughed softly, reaching up to turn your gaze back to him. “You’ve already got us, Hachi. There are going to be some growing pains and some kinks to work out, but you’ve got us.” He ran his thumb across your lips, giving you a smile similar to the one Jesse got when he thought you weren’t looking.
You cheeks picking up a blush, you reached up to slip your hand into his, his knuckles pressed against your lips as you shot him a sly smile. “Kinks, huh?” you asked, just to be a little bit difficult.
To your surprise, he chuckled, cocking his head and regarding you quietly for a second before he let out a breath. “You’d be surprised. Jesse likes to hold hands,” he murmured, watching your lips with interest.
You quirked an eyebrow. “Really? You know what, I can see it,” you said, nodding a bit as your cheeks took on a deeper blush; you could totally see being slowly edged along, his hands tucked firmly into yours, pinning them to the pillows- Your wings quivered slightly and you grinned as Hanzo thumbed your side, reading your expressions with ease. “And you, mo grá ?” you asked softly, meeting his gaze.
He just smiled wolfishly and tugged you flush against his chest, arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to the back of your jaw. “Wouldn’t you like to learn?”
“Is this going to be a hands-on lesson?” you asked, nearly jolting up out of his lap when you felt his fingers brush against the fuzz at the base of your wings. Wow, yeah, those were super fucking sensitive. “Because I don’t learn well from just taking notes.”
His responding chuckle was deep and made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “I can’t think of a better way to teach you, Hachi. You’d better pay attention, then,” he rumbled, nipping lightly at your neck.
You sucked in a breath. “Yessir.”
Being Winston’s assistant meant more than just transferring files and filing reports. You had a budget to watch, multiple agents that reported to you when Winston wasn’t available, requests to field, and a small department to help manage. Many field ops were sent directly to you for archival, which meant you had to field a lot of those as well. If that wasn’t enough for you, if ever there was an emergency and Jack, Ana, Reinhardt, Winston, and any of their prospective assistants weren’t available, by title alone, you were on the list to take charge. You hadn’t really thought about that, about those implications. You certainly weren’t one for leadership, at least, you didn’t think so. It wasn’t like you’d had many opportunities to test that.
You didn’t have to work, in fact, Angela had tried to veto the notion, but you needed something to do, and you didn’t want to spend all this time distracting working agents or moping about alone in your room. So work continued on, even with your current afflictions, and you found many agents pinging in their concerns, well wishes, and “congratulations on the anniversary of your annual rotation around the sun”. You were more than sure that was from Winston’s tech junkies. They never seemed to tire of ribbing you for not knowing anything remotely tech related, especially since you worked for the gorilla. You didn’t mind too much, they were a friendly lot, invited you to some lunches here and there before Norfolk. It was nice to see that, after everything that had happened, some things didn’t change.
“No, Winston, I’m telling you, you’re going to go over budget with this one,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, somewhat wishing that being conditioned to kill him meant you didn’t have to listen to his rants over the phone. Unfortunately, your brain wasn’t programmed for an audial tripwire, so you had to put up with it. “I understand that it’s important, but I can’t field any more requests for that titanium alloy this week, let alone anything remotely radioactive. See if Torbjörn has any left over, I’m sure he’d be happy to share. Yes, I’m aware he’s been grumpy as of late. Maybe bring him some of that Tunnbrödsrulle he likes.”
You rubbed your cheek, shaking your head as you paced. For someone so smart, sometimes you wondered if Winston ever really thought things through. You couldn’t be too harsh on him, though. He just got so sucked into some of his projects that he didn’t really stop to think about the consequences of some of those actions. It was like dealing with a 220 kilogramme toddler in a sense, even if that did sound a little bit of an insult to Winston.
“Listen, Winston, he’s your friend. He won’t be upset that you came to talk to him. Yes, I’m sure. Look, I would love to stay on the phone with you all day, but I’ve got reports to file, I- yes. Thank you.” You let out a loud sigh as you hung up, collapsing back onto your couch with a dramatic flair.
Piddie looked up from his perch on the back, letting out a sleepy “Mrrw?” as he got up and stretched before hopping down to lay on your stomach.
“Be grateful you don’t have thumbs, Pids,” you said, running your fingers through his soft fur, “or else I’d make you file the reports. You could be my little office cat. I’d put you in a little suit with a teeny little bowtie, and Brigitte would lose her mind whenever she’d drop by.”
Euripides just flicked his ears, looking down at you with those pretty green eyes of his.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, you know you love the attention she gives you. She’s absolutely enamored by the fact that you don’t have a tail.”
A knock on the door saved Piddie from any more of your devious machinations, and startled you. You hadn’t been expecting any visitors today, no one had said they’d drop by. You found Hana, Genji, and Lucio outside the door. Almost immediately, you ducked behind it, closing your eyes.
“Genji, you’re not supposed to be here! You’re on the list!” you said, gritting your teeth, even if it didn’t feel like you were fighting against Morrigan. It was better to be safe than sorry.
“I have my mask,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “As long as you cannot see my face, we are fine, right?” You could practically hear that smug smile. Apparently the habit of not following rules ran deep in Blackwatch blood. He held up a large plastic bag as you peered around the door. “I have offerings of cake and snacks!”
Hana smiled up at you, holding up her own bag. “I brought the drinks! Lucio’s got the cups and everything. We thought we’d surprise you, you know, since you’re so lonely down here.” She eyed your neck knowingly, and you instinctively covered up where the mark had been, even though it had long since faded. She smirked. “So, are you going to let us in or what?”
You sighed and opened the door all the way, gesturing them in. “Of-Of course! You-” you paused, spotting the second bag Lucio carried in. More importantly, spotting the little bits of shiny spirals that stuck out of the top. “ Nách mór an diabhal thú. You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!”
Lucio smiled at you, shaking his head. “What, did you think we were going to forget about your birthday, girl? Uh-uh! No way! You’re another year older, and that’s awesome!”
“Yeah, what’s it feel like to be old?” Hana called teasingly from the kitchenette as she helped Genji set up the snacks and everything.
You crossed your arms over your chest, shutting the door behind them. “I don’t know, how about you ask Genji? He’s the oldest out of all of us!”
Genji just laughed. “Perhaps you should ask my brother, Briallen. He would know better than I.” You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had a stupid little smirk on his face when he looked up at you. Bastard.
Hana made a face. “Yeah, that’s right! I can’t believe you’re dating that old fartbag. Does Jesse know?”
You blinked, realising that Hana hadn’t been around to see how Jesse was around you, all love-sick and dopey as shit. “Of course he knows.”
Hana gaped, looking between you and the two men in the room, one of whom was desperately holding back a snicker. You wanted to shove a fork in his thermal coils.
“And he’s okay with this?” Hana asked, her eyes wide. It was amusing to see how surprised she could get.
You chuckled, hugging yourself a bit. “Of course, he’s the one who suggested it. He is part of this relationship too, you know.”
Hana’s gape turned to a gawk, as she stared at you, open mouthed. “No fucking way you bagged both of them.”
“It should have been obvious, Hana,” Genji said, giving her a gentle nudge. “My brother is not overly fond of anyone besides her and McCree. Everyone noticed how tense they were when she disappeared.”
“Yeah, that was not a fun month. Jesse pretty much nagged everyone who had clearance day in and out about something called an APB, and Hanzo wasn’t much better,” Lucio said, shaking his head. “They were not over raising hell over it all, even if we couldn’t do anything because we couldn’t find the base.”
Your heart stuttered a bit as you drew your shawl around yourself. You hadn’t realised how much your disappearance had impacted them, had thought they would have gone about it with a clear head. “They… They were that worried about me?” you asked quietly, looking between your friends.
They went quiet, a small ripple of surprise running through them.
“We all were, Bri,” Hana said, frowning sadly. “We were all scared something bad happened to you and that…”
“That you wouldn’t make it home,” Lucio finished, nodding at Hana, who shook her head and cleared her throat. “We’ve all lost friends, Briallen. Some of us too many to count, we were afraid you were going to be lost too.”
You felt your chest squeeze, and you came around the side of the counter, wrapping both Lucio and Hana up in a hug. “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean-”
“Do not apologise for something you could not have controlled, Briallen,” Genji sighed, shaking his head at you. “You are at no fault here, so do not blame yourself. You will never grow if you blame yourself for the actions, or inactions of others.”
You chuckled and rolled your eyes, opening the hug for him. “Stop spouting wisdom and join the hug, tin man,” you teased, smiling as he heaved a giant sigh before joining in.
Notes:
Translations
* mo grá - my love
* Nách mór an diabhal thú - Aren't you the devil
Chapter 25: For She Is Sweeter Than Perfume Itself
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been many years since Hanzo had fallen in love with a woman. For a time, he thought it might never happen again; he preferred men and the women he admired were so few and far between, but he didn’t mind. He still remembered the last woman he had loved, which, coincidentally, had also been his first. She had been a girl from the city who had been hired by his family to periodically come in and teach some of the younger children. She was bright, and uncannily sharp. The children had loved her. They had been fond of each other, she was more sweet on him than he had caught onto in the beginning, but as time had moved on, they’d found themselves closer with every passing day. They’d been young, Hanzo just entering his twenties, and she somewhere around that age, he couldn’t quite remember, and they had been foolish. To this day, he didn’t know if it was an actual ransom abduction, or if his family had staged it to get her out of the way, but she was there one day and gone the next, with nothing but a letter, demanding more money than the family thought she was worth, left of her. Hanzo never saw her again.
In some ways, Briallen had reminded him of her; that cheeky grin, the way she wasn’t afraid to needle him, those sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing, the way she cared so much about everyone else but herself. She had been a surprise, for sure, someone he thought was just a silly girl, a fling Jesse needed to get out of his system. In the beginning, he wouldn’t have minded if it turned out that way, if Jesse had just done what he needed to and gotten over her. But now, he realised that wouldn’t have been how it turned out at all. Jesse could see how unordinary she was, he recognised what she had hidden beneath the surface, and he would not have let her go if he had the chance. It had taken Hanzo twice as long to realise it, to really get a good look at the woman she actually was instead of seeing the girl he had presumed her to be. And how glad he was that he had seen her.
How glad he was to have her home.
That month, the wait to just see if she came out of that okay, filled him with agonising dread. It was all too reminiscent of how Taira had disappeared, brought up too many old memories that he thought he’d squashed down. Every day he tried to remind himself of what Jesse told him; “If it’s Reyes who has her, she’ll be okay.” Every day he tried to believe in those words, after all, Jesse wouldn’t lie to him, not about something like that. It was strange, they’d only known each other for a few short months, but he already felt like she fit perfectly. He wouldn’t admit it, not even to Jesse. He wouldn’t admit how nervous he’d been that day in Norfolk, how worried he’d been that she’d pull away, disgusted. He would never admit that she made him feel like he was floating anytime she tossed that bright smile his way, would never admit how many nights he stayed up, just watching her fall asleep, tucked up against his side. He would never admit how much the prospect of all that being ripped away from him so quickly had made him ache.
But she was home. She was safe, and she was home. Yes, she had some baggage, yes, she had some issues, but they were no fault of her own. He would help her through it as best he could, as would Jesse, because that’s what partners were supposed to do. He knew how much it hurt to have memories like that, memories of acts you wish you could take back, of moments where you wish you would have taken another path. Her past was rife with them. And, maybe, a part of him hoped that by helping her through her maze, she could help him out of his.
But for now, he was content to just lay there with her, holding her close while she traced the lines of his tattoo, her touch light. She was wearing one of Jesse’s shirts, which was absolutely enormous on her, having thrown it on while he changed the sheets. She had asked for a couple of his shirts, saying something about how the scent comforted her. It wasn’t unusual, Hanzo definitely did prefer his boyfriend’s hoodies over his own, but she seemed to have a thing about scents. She knew he had one of Jesse’s flannels the moment he walked in, he saw the way her eyes lit up, though she tried to hide it, and she always knew when he’d been around Jesse that day, asking how he was and what they did together. Interestingly, she could tell the difference between when he had actually been with Jesse that day, and when he had just worn one of Jesse’s hoodies during the day. It was quite amusing to see her pause for a split second every time he opened the door, as if she was gathering that data, before her smile widened and she greeted him.
She let out a soft huff, her lips bunched up in a little pout as she paused, her fingers re-tracing over one of the clouds. He could see the question in her eyes, watched as she worked it around in her head a little, then said nothing.
Chuckling, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, catching her attention. “What is on your mind, Hachi? You have been chewing on something for a while now.”
Her eyes widened and a blush caught her cheeks. “Wh-What? Oh, nothing, just uh…” she turned her head away, muttering something under her breath.
He raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re going to need to repeat that for me.”
“Jesse mentioned something about…” she paused, looking a little pained as she glanced up at him.
“About what?”
“Dragons?” she said, giving him a weak smile before she continued on very quickly. “I-I-I don’t mean to pry, especially because I wouldn’t even know how to ask, is it rude to ask about them? I wouldn’t know, I don’t know the first thing about dragons, or dragon culture. Is there such a thing as dragon culture? Culture for dragons? Culture about dragons, I-”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Breathe, Hachi, breathe.” He cupped her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he sat up. “If I am honest, I was waiting to see how long it was going to take you to ask. You lasted longer than Jesse did when he first found out.”
Her face turned a light pink as she pushed herself up, instinctively reaching out to play with his fingers. She did that quite often, not even just to his hands. Jesse was touchy, but she took it to a slightly different level. It seemed at any moment, if she could, she preferred to touch or be touched, especially if they were talking. It was almost as if she needed something to ground her, or a reminder he was there. He never mentioned anything about it, especially since he’d caught her a few times realising what she was doing and quickly yanking herself away. From the look on her face, it was clear she’d been chastised about it by less than friendly figures. He understood it, though, it was a way of showing love, of feeling loved.
He smiled, gently taking her fingers and holding them in his hand. “So you want to see the dragons, hmm?”
She shrugged a bit, giving him a sheepish grin as she tried to hide behind her bangs. “Kinda? I mean, if it’s no trouble. It’s not every day that you learn your boyfriend has cool soul dragon things…”
“Is that how Jesse described them?” he asked, amused. It wasn’t far from the truth, but he thought Jesse knew them better than that.
“Maybe, or maybe Jesse mentioned something about dragons and I did some research after pulling up your personnel file. Don’t forget I work in the archives with Winston,” she said, an oddly satisfied smirk on her face. He definitely didn’t put it past her to put so much work into finding out something she could have just asked him about.
“How can I forget that when you gripe at me about him nearly everyday,” Hanzo teased, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Close your eyes, Hachi.”
She puffed up her cheeks a bit, frowning. “I do not-”
“Close. Your. Eyes,” he repeated, mocking a playful growl as he leaned closer.
Scrunching up her nose, she gave him a little look before listening, drawing her knees up as she did so.
Almost as soon as her eyes closed, his tattoo lit up, and the dragons slid out of his skin, materialising onto the bed, already eager to meet her. They had been for a while, as excited as they’d been when he first met Jesse. They had a way of leeching off his emotions, which was, in of itself, both a blessing and a curse. It meant they were quick to act when he needed them, but it also made them very nosy.
As soon as his little claws hit the blanket, Raijin scurried up her legs, pausing on her knees to look up into her face. He looked smaller than usual, no bigger than a small mink, probably so as not to scare her, and it seemed Fujin had taken the hint as well. Small meant less intimidating, and they didn’t want to intimidate her.
She had jumped when she felt the little dragon climbing up her leg, opening her eyes to find him nearly nose to nose with her. Her eyes lit up, though she seemed hesitant to move, clutching at one of his hands. “ Ó mo dhéithe ,” she whispered, smiling. “You are so very tiny.” She paused, her nose twitching. “So you’re where his cherry blossom scent comes from, are you?” She reached up with a hesitant hand, glancing quickly at Hanzo for his input.
He chuckled and nodded, watching as Raijin snuffled at her fingers, his gaze locked on her face, before he stretched his head up for a scratch, flicking his tail. “They can be simple beasts, when they wish to be,” he said, reaching down to give Fujin a reassuring scritch. “Normally, they are quite a bit bigger than this, but they are trying to impress you.”
Her smile brightened at that and she slowly let go of his hand, pulling the dragon off her knees to cradle him in her lap. Raijin melted into it, letting out a satisfied purr-like rumble which spurred his sister into movement, slinking up onto her shoulders to sniff at Briallen’s scars. “They’re so much warmer than I thought they would be,” she murmured, running her fingers over Raijin’s scales, and giggling when his sister licked her cheek before butting her head against it.
“Again, they are trying to impress you,” he chuckled, scooting closer so he could sit beside her, his hand on the back of her neck. “They are usually more dignified than this.”
“They feed off your energy, though, don’t they? So, really, they’re this way because you’re comfortable around me,” she said, looking up at him with that bright smile.
He was impressed. She’d said she’d done research, but she’d have to have done quite a bit more research than necessary to learn that piece of information. “That is true, I suppose. The one in your lap is Raijin, and his sister, Fujin, is the one currently trying to bite me because she is jealous and wants all your attention.”
She giggled, gently scooping the offending dragon up by the belly and holding her out in front of her, giving her a mock frown. “That’s not very nice, Fujin,” she said, and the little dragon stopped squirming in her grip, locking eyes. “He’s kind enough to house you in his spirit and you repay that kindness with violence? For shame!”
Fujin was anything but repentant, her gaze blank before she started wriggling again, making little chuffing sounds.
Briallen shook her head and set the dragon down in her lap next to her brother. It was amazing to see how quickly she was able to handle them, it had taken Jesse a few days to get them to actively listen to him, and Hanzo a few years to garner their trust. But here she was, with both of them already curling up in her lap, not even bickering with each other about having to share the small space.
“You are truly a miracle, Hachi,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“What, you mean they’re normally not this well behaved?” she teased, smiling up at him, her eyes soft, before she looked back down at the dragons beginning to snooze in her lap. “It’s probably the pheromones, if I’m being honest. I’m supposed to have a hive of some kind, they respond to my scent and see me as their queen, but… I don’t know what happened to them… So I kind of just naturally put out the scent, hoping that one day… I’ve been told it’s rather calming to other creatures.” He saw the way her gaze unfocused, how her smile drooped just a bit as she went quiet.
“Is this another episode?” He rubbed the back of her neck, slowly bringing her back to him.
“Hmm? No, no I’m just… remembering things I shouldn’t.” She shook her head, leaning into his chest and closing her eyes. “Thank you, Han, for trusting me with this. It means a lot.”
“Of course. I am relieved it went over so well. I recall a lot more scratching and rebelliousness when they first met Jesse,” he said with a fond chuckle. Boisterous as they were, they were his dragons, and he’d always be fond of them no matter what. “Now, we should probably get some sleep, Hachi. You have an exciting day planned for tomorrow.”
She opened her eyes, frowning. “About that, nobody will tell me what’s going on. What’s planned for tomorrow that I don’t know about? I mean, I get it’s New Years, but, seriously.”
Hanzo simply smiled and shook his head, gently tapping her nose. “It’s a surprise, Hachi. But I feel you will be more than pleased with the outcome.”
When you woke the next morning, there was a significant lack of an archer beside you. However, as if to make up for it, there were copious amounts of dragon. Bigger now than a mastiff, they were twined together, their deep blue scales glistening in the light that came from your window. One of them, you couldn’t tell which, had its paws wrapped around your leg, head resting on your thigh. They took up the entire bed together, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute it was.
The dragon on your leg whined when you shifted, opening its eyes to look up at you imploringly.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to get up,” you murmured, reaching down to gently grasp the sides of its face. At this size, you could better admire the intricate scales and the mane of golden fur running down their back. Their horns were larger than you expected them to be and would certainly have been menacing looking if they weren’t giving you the most precious look ever.
The dragon whined again, almost looking as if it was pouting, and you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of its head. “I know, waking up is always hard, isn’t it? But you know what, the best things always happen when we wake up, because that’s where all of our friends are.” You scratched under its chin, chuckling at the low rumble that it let out as it closed its eyes. “I bet, if we get up now, we can go get breakfast and Han will be there waiting for us.”
The dragon snorted, opening its eyes to give you a dissatisfied look, and you immediately knew which one this was.
“Raijin, come on, now, he’s not that bad. Yeah, he’s kinda grumpy and sometimes he’s a meanie pants, but he’s actually really sweet. I bet he gets that from you, doesn’t he? Oh, I bet he does,” you cooed, running your fingers through his mane as he rumbled happily and pressed his forehead against your chest. “I bet he’s learnt all sorts of things from you two. You keep him out of trouble don’t you, yes you do!” You smiled, groaning in laughter as he pushed you over, laying down over your chest with a satisfied chuff. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?’ You scrunched up your nose as he nuzzled your cheek. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, buddy. Thank you for taking care of him,” you murmured, kissing his forehead.
Raijin snorted again, laying his head down on your stomach and looking up at you with adorable yellow eyes. It was clear you were not moving for a while. You gave in, chuckling when Fujin turned her head and begged for attention as well, rubbing her snout against the palm of your hand. You laid there for a while, just enjoying the weight of them pressed up against you, and would have fallen asleep were it not for the wave of bourbon and cigars that rolled through your room.
In an instant, you were sitting up, easily pushing the dragons off of you, and hurrying into the living room. Jesse shouldn’t be here, he wasn’t supposed to, not with you still under the influence of Aderyn, so why could you smell him?
But Jesse was nowhere to be seen. Only Hanzo stood in the living room, holding a dress bag and a mask in his hands. His eyes widened as you came barreling out of the bedroom, still wearing nothing but Jesse’s flannel, before he softened, shaking his head. “I should have known better,” he said, laying the dress bag over the back of the couch and setting the mask on top of it. “I told Jesse you would know he was here, even if he was quiet.”
“What was he doing here?” you asked, frowning. You could feel the stirrings of that familiar anger beginning to burn in your chest, and you did your best to squash it down. “He’s not supposed to be here, he could have gotten himself hurt, I could have hurt him! I-”
“Hachi, calm down,” Hanzo said, shaking his head as he reached out to gently grasp your elbows. “I had the dragons keeping you busy, we were careful.”
“Careful my ass!” You yanked your arms away, feeling that anger rise. “Hanzo, I can lift a grown man by the neck with ease, what makes you think a couple of dragons laying on my chest is going to keep me down? Jesse shouldn’t have been in this wing, let alone in this fucking room! What if I had scented him earlier? What would you have done? If you had gotten in the way, I would have hurt both of you!”
“You are shouting,” he warned, holding his hands out in a peaceful manner, his eyes narrowed a bit. “Hachi, are you slipping into another episode?”
“Yeah, I’m shouting! I’m shouting because I’m pissed, Han! You unnecessarily put both you and Jesse in danger. Just for what? A dress and a silly mask? I thought you had more common sense than that! Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? If I had lost control and hurt or, gods forbid, killed either of you?” Your throat hurt already, but you couldn’t back down. The whispers had started, fueling your anger and frustration, spurring you on, until they got to be too much. You smashed your hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut as you willed them to just shut up. The whispers hurt your head, somehow screaming into your mind while they still remained whispers.
You could practically feel your pulse in your temples as you fell to your knees, trying so hard to fight against the rage that bubbled up. This wasn’t you, this wasn’t you, this was her . “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!” You beat your hands against your ears, trying to block out the noise, and found, after the first two times, there was a soft snout on either side, keeping you from hurting yourself. You tried hard to push the dragons away, but they were insistent, gripping your hands with their tiny ones and lowering them into your lap.
Hanzo was crouched in front of you, not touching, but close enough that you could feel him without opening your eyes. “Deep breaths, Hachi. Remember what we worked on. Focus on the sound of your breathing, just like that. Just meditate on it for a little while.”
You breathed, hard. Every breath felt like a struggle to get out, but each breath afterward came a little easier. It took too long until you came back down, until you couldn’t hear the whispers anymore, until the guilt set in. “Time?” you asked, voice hoarse.
“Five minutes.” His hands found yours, gently coaxing them out of your lap so he could hold them tightly. “Are we back?”
You took in a shaky breath, opening your eyes to look up at him. You had to blink a few times to dispel some of the blurriness left over. Nodding, you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “Grounded. Still sore. Sorry about smacking your spirit beasts.”
He smiled a bit, shaking his head. “They would not have put themselves there if they could not handle it and did not want to help you, Hachi.”
As if to prove his point, Fujin crawled up your back, wrapping her long body around your neck and crowing softly into your ear. Raijin made himself comfortable in your lap, placing his little bitty dragon claws over top of your joined hands.
You chuckled, sniffling a bit. You hadn’t cried this time, but you certainly wanted to. Despite having just woken up, you found yourself tired again, drained from the toll of the episode. “They’re getting longer, Han. I don’t know if I can wait to see Dr. Penn. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you or anyone if it gets worse. I won’t be able to forgive myself if I do.”
He sighed softly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I will talk with Angela. I cannot guarantee she will allow you to see Doctor Penn, however. You know the stakes.” His thumbs brushed against the backs of your hands, sweeping Raijin’s paws out of the way. The dragon gave an insulted squeak before he pretty much slapped his paws back in place.
You nodded a bit, closing your eyes again. “I know.”
“You should take a nap, Hachi. I will make some food for when you wake up, and then we can talk about what we have planned for today, okay?” He squeezed your hands, waiting until you gave him an “Okay” before he pulled them away, quickly swooping in to cup your cheek and give you a kiss. “I love you, Hachi. I will still be here when you wake up.”
Your cheeks adopted a light blush and you smiled up at him. That was a first for the two of you. You and Jesse had said it plenty of times, but with Hanzo? It was more of a show than tell. At first, you didn’t know if you could classify it as love, but now you were sure you could. It wasn’t quite the same as with Jesse, but there were similar undertones. You loved him, just as much as you loved Jesse, just in a slightly different way.
“I love you too,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist, leaning into the touch.
Raijin looked between you and Hanzo, eyeing your hands, before he scurried up your shoulder and mimicked the gesture with his sister. Fujin just looked at him passively, her head cocked in confusion.
Notes:
Translations
* Ó mo dhéithe - Oh my gods
Chapter 26: Some Say The Bee Stings
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hanzo had made you an extraordinarily American breakfast, packed full with enough sugar to make sure you made it through until around lunch, at least. You’d still have to snack on plenty of things later on during the day to keep your sugar levels up, maybe Hana could bring you some of those wafers she’d introduced you to a couple days earlier. It was already a bit difficult to keep your sugars up at the moment, you didn’t want to think about how much you were going to have to eat just to keep yourself in the air once your wings hardened.
The dragons stuck around while you munched on the syrup-coated pancakes, trying to steal bits and pieces of your food. When Hanzo wasn’t looking, you’d give one of them a tiny bit of your pancake or a few muffin bits.
You felt much better once you’d eaten and stabilised your sugars. A little guilt still remained from going off on Hanzo like that, episode or not, it wasn’t nice. Leaning against him, you sighed and looked down at your hands, fidgeting. “Sorry about all the stuff I said earlier. Some of it was from the episode, yeah, but I really was upset. I… I hate knowing that I’m a danger to the people I love… I’ve done so much this past week to make sure I’m not, and to hear one of those dumbasses actually came here, where they know they could get hurt?”
Hanzo hummed softly, reaching up to gently massage the back of your neck. He was reading something on the tablet, his eyes leaving the words for just a second to glance up at you. “I understand. He was not here for long, however. Only long enough to drop off your garments for tonight. Everyone else was busy helping to set up.”
You blinked a couple times, confused, then frowned. “Helping to set up what? Is there a new op I’m not aware of? It’d have to be pretty fucking big and important if it requires everyone, and I’m gonna be pissed if Winston isn’t keeping me in the loop.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s not an op, Hachi. There will be a party tonight. They are helping to set up the decorations and everything. It looks a lot better if some of the higher-level agents help out every now and then. The dress and mask Jesse delivered this morning are for the party.”
Your frown deepened and you felt a little stung. “Oh, is it? Well I suppose they’re just going to end up shoved into the back of my closet since-”
“It’s a masquerade,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. “We figured if Genji’s mask worked, so would others. After all, your programming relies on you seeing their face, correct?”
You squinted at him, not liking how all too pleased of himself he looked. “Are you gonna tell me this was done for me?”
“The party? No, that is mostly political, but the masquerade? We might have tweaked a few things,” he said, grinning down at you, smug. “When you got drunk with Hana and Genji a few days ago, they got your new measurements and sent them off to Eugene. He was able to put together a dress for you, keeping your wings in mind, of course.”
“What’s my theme?” you asked, suspicious.
“Well, wanting this to be a pleasant surprise,” he emphasised the word pleasant as he set down the tablet to look at you, “we were unable to consult with you about your theme, so we played off of the features you already have, Hachi.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Of course,” you grumbled, instinctively leaning in as he cupped your cheek and kissed you, making you smile just a bit. “And if this doesn’t work?”
“Reinhardt is on hand to hold you back. You should go try on your dress, Eugene has assured me you will look ravishing in it.” He laughed softly as you stuck your tongue out at him and pulled away, brushing Raijin off your lap as you did so.
“You just want an excuse to get me out of my clothes,” you sighed, shaking your head as Raijin squeaked indignantly, winding his way up to your shoulders as you stood.
“A mere concomitant, Hachi, but not an unwelcome one.” His smile was just a bit too smug as he watched you walk away.
The dress itself was beautiful; a pretty little sleeveless, floor-length satin dress with an a-line fit and an open back left plenty of space for you to breathe and your wings to sit unconstrained. Its nice golden colour glowed under the bathroom lights and matched perfectly with the mask given to accompany it. The mask was a nice deep gold with a rose on the side and a few tiny bee figures stuck to the edges. Your theme was “honey”, as it turned out, and you certainly looked it, what with your honey-brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. Whoever’s idea it was to have this as your theme, you were going to smack them.
You were finishing up your makeup when Winston called, making sure to use some lighter warm colours to keep with the theme of your outfit. “Winston! How great to finally hear from you,” you said as you answered the call. “I was hoping I wouldn’t go into this political mess without some kind of direction. What’s this I hear about Overwatch going legit again?”
You could hear the cringe and the awkward chuckle that followed afterward. “Yes, well, I meant to get to you sooner, but they mentioned this was supposed to be some kind of surprise for you?”
“Mmn, yes, apparently my friends have an interesting definition of pleasant surprise. Here I was expecting a puppy or something, but instead I have to maneuver a political minefield while my boss is out of town!” The grin you flashed was far from friendly, and you felt it. You weren’t used to being a political figurehead, and with Winston out of the picture, that’s exactly what you’d have to be. “Thank the gods Ana and Reinhardt are going to be there, otherwise I might have just lost my mind.”
Winston sighed. “I know. It’s going to be tough, but I know you can get through this, Miss Marsh. Angela, Ana, and Reinhardt are going to be fielding as many of the political questions as they can to help keep the heat off of you, but it is going to be difficult. I know you’ve done enough research into us to answer some of the simple questions without too much issue. You’ve read up on the most recent operations, yes?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I should be all caught up on the ones that went into the archive. Is that my excuse if they ask me questions I can’t answer? “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t answer that, sir. I only work in the archives”,” you mimicked a high-society british accent, applying a light layer of mascara as you did so.
The gorilla chuckled. “If need be, yes. But answer any questions you can. I’ve got to go, they’re about to start the second half of the expo. Thank you, Briallen.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes. “You owe me when you come back. Maybe a nice case of cham cham .”
“Will do. Have fun tonight, don’t forget to let Angela know if something goes wrong, and make sure to keep your sugar levels up.”
You actually chuckled at that. “Alright, bye mom .” Shaking your head, you ended the call and left the bathroom, tucking your lipstick into your clutch for later use.
Reinhardt was waiting at the door for you, all dressed up in a nice white suit and was that a rabbit mask? He still looked intimidating, but that big smile he wore was anything but. He was absolutely gigantic next to you, standing well over two feet taller than yourself. He made you feel, for the first time in a very long time, like a child, especially since you only came up to his elbow.
“Ah, the lady of the hour! It has been too long, kleine frau !” he laughed, sweeping you up in a rib-creaking hug, smashing your wings against your back.
“Ah! Wings! Wings! Careful of the wings, please!” you groaned, chuckling awkwardly when he quickly set you down. Your wings twitched behind you, readjusting themselves back into place. “Sorry, Rein, I know how much you like hugs, they’re just still hardening.” You explained, hoping they hadn’t bent in any way.
He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “The apology is mine, I sometimes still forget my own strength. You look absolutely stunning, Miss Marsh,” he said, beaming down at you as he extended his hand for you to take. “It will be an honour to escort you.”
You smiled and took his hand, giving your wings an experimental flutter. They were fine, thankfully. Now, if that was the only negative interaction with them tonight, that would be amazing. “No more flattery, you know how I get. I turn all splotchy and that won’t look good for our backers. Talk shop with me, what am I heading into?”
“Nothing bad, only a few politicians tonight. Ana, Angela, and I should be taking the brunt of it, we will be your shields so to speak.” His blue eye twinkled down at you with amusement, his large smile never fading as he led you to the party. “The bartender has been made aware of your, erm, state, and there should be some sugar water available should you need it. We don’t want you to crash out on the dance floor tonight.”
“Oh, no dancing for me,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Though I appreciate the thought.”
“No dancing? A pretty woman like you? I do not believe it for a second!” he bellowed, grinning as he patted your hand. “After all, I heard young McCree is looking forward to a certain dancing partner tonight.” The look the old man gave you was too cunning and knowing to be innocent, and you sighed. How many people were in on this plot?
Still, if it was Jesse, you might dance. Might. “We’ll see,” you conceded, ignoring the fact that your cheeks took on a slight blush. “But for now, I-” your voice petered out as you stopped in the doorway, looking around at all the people. Even now after having worked here for months and knowing a good portion of them, the thought of having to go out there and put on a political performance made you nervous. “For now I think I’ll go get that glass of sugar water, maybe even some champagne while I’m at it,” you said, clearing your throat. You offered Reinhardt a weary smile before you pulled away to head to the bar.
The bartender looked up at you in surprise when you approached, flaring your wings a bit before you got too close. You weren’t sure if it was an instinctual dominance move, or a kind warning of the customer he was about to have. To his credit, he swallowed his surprise and shot you a pretty smile. “How can I help you miss?”
“Just a glass of sugar water, please,” you said, giving him an easy smile in return. You could do this, being nice wasn’t that hard. It was the upcoming working around of politics that you were worried about.
He nodded and looked behind you. “And for you sir?”
“A shot of whiskey, if you wouldn’t mind.” The southern drawl was accompanied by a smile and a warm hand on your lower back, drawing you closer. “Now, if I didn’t know any better, darlin’, I’d say you’re avoidin’ me.”
You chuckled, leaning into Jesse’s side with a sigh. It felt nice to actually be in his presence again, a sort of heavy weight lifted off your chest. “Sorry, Jess. Just nervous. Tonight might be all fun and games for you, but this is work for me. Got a couple big shot politicians here tonight, looking to see if it’s worth reinstating Overwach as an official power, and I’ve got to be here in Winston’s place.” You looked up, your chest warming as you were finally able to look up into those warm brown eyes without wanting to rip his head off. An easy smile split your lips, even as you remembered his antics this morning. “You, sir, are in a heap of trouble.”
He cocked his head, the black finish of his domino mask absorbing the light. “Is that right?”
Reaching up, you cupped his cheek as he bent over a little, kissing the meat of your palm. “Mmhmm. You came down to my quarters where you weren’t supposed to be, caused an episode, if I might add. I could have hurt you, Jesse, hell, might have even killed you if I got the chance,” you muttered, your smile fading just a bit at the thought. “And don’t even start on that “we were careful” bullshit. I already went off on Hanzo about it. Careful or not, I still scented you, and who knows what would have happened after that if you had stuck around any longer.”
He sighed and gently laid his hand over yours, giving you those stupidly affective puppy-dog eyes, his smile lopsided. “Yeah, but nothin’ did happen, Bri, that’s gotta count for something...”
“Only because you are one very lucky cowboy.” You slid your hand back a bit to squish his cheeks, much to his amusement. “Now, if I ever smell you near my room again, I will sic Angela on you, you hear me?”
There was a dash of fear in his eyes as he nodded. “I hear ya pumpkin,” he managed, trying to smile through the smooshing of his cheeks.
His saving grace came in the form of your drinks. The bartender gave the two of you a wary smile, as if only now sensing the danger you might have posed, and slid your drinks toward you. “One sugar water and one whiskey.”
You smiled, letting go of Jesse’s face to pick up your glass of water; it had been served to you in a tulip glass, with only a few cubes of ice. “Thank you so much for your accommodations. It’s very thoughtful.”
You turned to Jesse, finally taking in his entire ensemble; it wasn’t much, just a nice black suit and a simple felt domino mask, but it suited him well. “You look nice in a suit,” you noted, taking a sip of your drink. It was as sweet as you expected and surprisingly smooth on your tongue. Someone had known to boil the water first before putting the sugar in and cooling it again. “You should wear them more often.”
“If it gets you to look at me like that, then I will definitely make note of it,” he chuckled, flashing you a cheeky grin before he knocked back his shot of whiskey. “Missed you, sweetpea. More than I could say.” He reached out, twirling a stray piece of your hair in his fingers, his eyes solemn.
You gave him a sad half-smile, listing your head. “I missed you too, Jesse. But it shouldn’t be long now. The specialist says we’re getting close to a breakthrough. Anywhere from a week or two, I should be back to normal. Then I can move back into my old room and you can have me all to yourself for a little while.”
“All to myself, huh?” he asked, drawing closer so that he hovered over you. You could see the thoughts in his eyes, typical thoughts that you expected him to have. “Gotta say, doll, that sounds like a mighty fun time.”
“Within reason, Jess,” you chuckled, shaking your head, reaching up to play with his tie. “I’ll still have work to do, and Han might want to join in, but I can always come visit yours after office hours.”
He kissed you then, nearly knocking your water into your chest, but you didn’t mind. It was nice, slightly rough, and about goddamn time. You weren’t going to let it go on too long, not with all the big shots out here waiting to see what trouble they could stir up, but you let him go for a couple seconds before you pulled away, smiling up at him. He had a small flash of lipstick stuck to his lips, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me how much you missed me?” you teased, reaching up with a napkin to wipe the lipstick off of his lips.
“Oh, darlin’, if only I could show you,” he groaned, chuckling as he trapped your hand in his, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “All the ways I could show you.”
Your eyes widened and your wings twitched, your cheeks catching a soft blush. “Jesse McCree!” you hissed at the same time a voice behind him grumbled “Goddamn, Overwatch and it’s abundance of freaks. Vodka, if you would please. Straight.”
You froze, watching as the mirth in Jesse’s eyes iced over into iron. Peeking around his shoulder, you spotted a young man, easily around your age, but a lot more sophisticatedly dressed. It was all too easy to remember who this man was; Arthur Baxter, Petras’ successor. More importantly, the man you desperately needed to impress to keep your job. You didn’t think Baxter had seen you yet, or else he wouldn’t have said that so loudly. At least you hoped, if the new possible director already publicly had it out for Overwatch, you were doomed.
Giving Jesse just the barest of head shakes, you gently swept around him, putting on the biggest, most convincing fake smile you’d ever had. “Mr. Baxter! How lovely to see you! I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” you said, setting your glass down and offering a hand. “Briallen Marsh from the tech department. I’m Winston’s assistant.” Your wings flared again, which caught his attention for just a moment before his eyes drifted elsewhere… You tried to ignore it.
Baxter’s smile was wide, his eyes gleefully taking in your dress as he reached out to shake your hand. “So you’re the winged wonder I’ve heard about. You must be a very important agent for them to have traded two high ranking Talon officers for you.” There was a hint of steel to his voice, a challenge.
You fought against the natural fall of your smile, sweeping your sugar water back up and taking a drink. You were going to need the boost. “Well, I like to think I am. I do work in the archives, after all, which means I have intimate knowledge of agent profiles, medical history, past operations, and the like. I also handle the budget for the tech department, manage field agents under Winston’s supervision when he isn’t available, and field tech requests. I compile the dossiers before operation briefings. In short, I know a lot of valuable information that would be bad in the wrong hands.”
“Quite the workload for someone so small. My word of advice to you, Miss Marsh? Don’t talk so much. There is a fine line between a pretty woman and a woman who is excessively verbose,” he said, quickly downing his vodka when it arrived.
You drew in a quick breath, taken aback, before you nodded, still smiling somehow. “I- Yes, of course, sir.”
His smile widened, turning just a bit sly as he held out his arm. “Walk with me, Miss Marsh.”
Notes:
Translations
* kleine frau - little woman
Chapter 27: I Think The Honey Guarded With A Sting
Notes:
Sorry about the lateness of this one! Thanksgiving was... an adventure
Chapter Text
Arthur Baxter was not an attractive man, not in your books, at least, but his ornate silver mask did a decent job of hiding it. He was at least three years your senior, with muddy red hair clipped neatly into an almost play-boy style, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He might have been considered cute when he was young, but now there was a sharp glint in his grey eyes that reminded you of a hungry shark, ready to snap at anything that looked edible. There was a cruel cut to him, but he hid it well with the honey in his words and disarming smile. In short, he was a politician. And right now, he seemed to be sniffing out an in.
“So, Winston’s assistant, hmm? I must say, it seems like a lot of work for just one young woman such as yourself. Couldn’t he just have your plucky little AI handle all of that?” Baxter asked, his large hand placed firmly over yours to keep you locked against his side as he led you around the ballroom. For now, it seemed he was content to use you as a piece of eye candy, just a woman to have draped across his arm for the time being. You hoped it stayed that way.
He paraded you around for a little while, sweeping you slowly past your superiors who looked up in concern. This was exactly the situation they’d hoped to avoid, and yet, here you were, trapped with the director-to-be. You’d only meant to introduce yourself, maybe answer a few questions, not to be kidnapped. You had hand signals, little signs to communicate across the ballroom, to let them know if you were in trouble, but with one hand tucked against his arm and the other occupied with your clutch, they were rendered useless. So when Ana moved to take a step forward to relieve you, a move that would surely show favouritism and put your position and yourself up for scrutiny, you were only able to manage a very short shake of your head that you hoped Baxter hadn’t seen. You were fine, you had this under control for now.
“I suppose they could, sir. But I doubt it would look as good to outside officials if everything was handled by an AI, no matter how amazing Athena might be. It’s always best to have a human around to provide that soft touch and compassion from time to time, isn’t it?” you countered, your smile fake, but stuck firm. Baxter, it seemed, had no intention of going easy on you tonight, and you had no intention of letting him see your real views.
There were some things you remembered from Morrigan’s days that seemed to be a benefit to you in this life. Politics was not one of them. Instead, you had learned from Jack, had short lessons on appearance and linguistics, how to dance around a question, how to satisfy without really giving an answer, how men like Arthur Baxter worked. He was probing you, getting a feel for your thoughts, morals, and stances on important subjects. You were an easy target, not high enough ranked to give him trouble, more pliable to his will, and a perfect subject to use to gain info on the current state of Overwatch. Perhaps he’d end up using you as an in, perhaps he’d try to persuade you with promises of promotions, leadership, sexual favours. You didn’t know enough about Baxter to know what his method of choice would be, but you knew he had chosen you for a specific reason.
Now the only thing to do about it would be to satiate him without giving away your hand.
“You make a surprisingly fair point, even if you do talk a lot.” Baxter sniffed, shaking his head. “But it’s not as if you are exactly human, now, are you?”
Your wings twitched, and you fought the urge to punch him. ‘ He could be your next boss. You need to behave. ’ “I suppose I am not, sir,” you said instead, nodding. “It is true I may not be entirely human, I do still have human emotions, feelings and-” you caught yourself as he glanced down at you, a wicked smile donning his lips. “I think and feel like a human, sir, shouldn’t that be enough?” You laced your voice with sickeningly sweet overtones, raising it by a half octave.
He patted your hand. “One would think, but one could also say that about an omnic. Tell me, Miss Marsh, how would you feel if an omnic took your position?”
“I’m… I’m not sure what you’re asking, sir,” you said, looking up at him as he slowed you to a stop by the large windows which now showed a view of the lights above ground; a brilliantly lit up London, ready to usher in the new year. A glance around told you that you were no longer in view of Ana, Reinhardt, or Angela. He’d separated you on purpose. “If they took my job now or if they had gotten the position before me?”
“If you were replaced, Miss Marsh, do keep up. There may be some staffing changes in the near future if the UN does decide to fund Overwatch. Weak links and all of that. I’m told omnics are far more efficient in positions such as yours. Not only would it look good from an inclusivity standpoint, but it would also make things much more efficient, meaning we would no longer have need for employees like you. You must see my dilemma here. I’m sure you are a very smart woman, Miss Marsh, and good at your job. It would be a shame not to see a pretty face like yours around the office anymore, but unfortunately it is out of my hands.” He busied himself with looking out the window, but you could see the plan forming in the peripherals of his vision, could see the minute movements of his eyes as they darted around the scene, thinking, calculating.
It was utter bullshit, of course. As director, it would not be out of the realm of possibilities for him to stop them from replacing staff. He wanted to scare you, but you would not be scared so easily.
You kept your mouth shut, watching him. There was no use looking for help. Even if they had sensed something was wrong, you’d already told your superiors not to brother, that you had this under control. Well, you did, for the most part, and you would continue to keep it under control until you could politely excuse yourself and go join Jesse or Han or literally anyone else.
“Unless,” he sighed, turning to face you. He’d come to a decision on methods, apparently. Offering a suave smile, he slid his knuckle up the front of your throat, tilting your face up with a finger perched under your chin, and seemed to appraise your features. Your skin crawled. “Unless I could manage to put in a good word for you, as a favour. I would hate to see you go.”
You smiled serenely up at him, trying to play the part as best you could. If you had to play honey trap, so be it. Morrigan’s good acting would definitely help you out here, if her anger didn’t win out. Perhaps you could learn more about him and his motives. That would be helpful right? “I would very much like that, sir,” you said, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping closer, fluttering your eyelashes behind your mask. “But I couldn’t ask you to do that, I wouldn’t feel right about it.” Not to mention you wouldn’t be keeping this position come next year. Once you were done breaking through this brainwashing, you were handing most of your duties over to Athena so you could start studying with Angela’s other students. Not that he needed to know that.
“I’m sure we could work something out, Miss Marsh,” he murmured, brushing his thumb just under your lips in a way that made you instinctively want to slap him away. You hoped neither Jesse nor Hanzo were watching this. “I will let you think on it. In the meantime, you know how to contact me.” He slipped a business card into your hand, nudging your chin as he pulled away. “I do look forward to working with you in the future, Miss Marsh.”
You kept the smile up until you knew he was out of your hair, then made a beeline for the bathroom, feeling absolutely awful. Good info or not, honey trap was a shit role to play, and you’d known that from the beginning. But if soon to be Director Baxter had one more thing about Overwatch he liked, the organisation would be better off. All you had to do was keep him on your good side as long as you could and hope he didn’t find your Morrigan files.
Your promenade with Baxter was not your last adventure for the night, nor your last surprise. The bathroom was empty when you stalked in, needing to splash some cold water on your, thankfully, water-proof face and get yourself back together. Or so you had thought. You were about halfway through the process of readying yourself to go back out into the party and continue being a political figurehead - which was as exhausting as you thought it would be - when you heard the crunching of what sounded like chips being eaten from one of the stalls behind you.
‘ Okay, it is way too early for someone to be that drunk, ’ you thought, sighing and pushing open the stall door. “Are you okay-” You blinked, looking down at the person sitting on the bathroom floor. “Bird?”
Polychrome eyes looked up at you, the bathroom lights glinting prettily off the purple hues in one of them, and a smile split their face. True to their chaotic goblin energy, Bird, dressed in a surprisingly nice suit, was sitting on the bathroom floor with their legs wrapped around one of the large chip bowls from the buffet table. A discarded plague doctor mask sat next to them, along with a bottle of questionable looking alcohol, and the bowl itself was half empty. “Whattup?”
You couldn’t help but smile down at them. It had been too long since you’d seen them, too long since your last conversation. It looked like their mask and the vials had gotten to them, as they looked well, or, as well as they could look. “You’re okay! Been too long since I heard from you! What are you doing in here with one of the buffet bowls?”
They nodded, popping another chip into their mouth. “Unfortunately. God has decided to let me live another day, and I’ve decided to make that everyone’s problem,” they said, offering the bowl up to you. “Whether that be through homicide or inconveniences. I decided on inconveniences on the way here.”
You chuckled, taking a few chips. “Nice. Thanks for not murdering my coworkers.”
They shrugged, tucking the bowl between their legs again. “Eh, I still might one day. Or I’ll just keep being a pain in the ass. We’ll see. You look rough, wanna join?”
You eyed the alcohol. “How much sugar does that have in it?”
Jay followed your gaze and picked up the unlabeled bottle, shrugging. “Who knows. Do you need sugar? Cuz I’ve got some candy in my pockets, probably melted. Snagged it from Jesse earlier.”
You worried at your lip with your teeth as you weighed your options. On one hand, the more responsible hand, you could go back out to the party and continue politicking, find Jesse and Han and spend time with the two of them together for literally the first time since you started dating, and round out the year with your coworkers. The other hand, the more impulsive one that you would probably end up listening to over the responsible hand, said, fuck it, sit down on the bathroom floor with your friend and shoot the shit, maybe even get shitfaced.
Your arms and wings raised at the same time as you held your hands out in a “what am I to do?” gesture and smiled down at your friend. “Yeah, I kind of do need the sugar. Had to abandon my water to talk shop with mister big director britches,” you said, stepping into the large stall to sit with them. “I don’t care what you got, just hand it over.”
“Hell yeah!” Bird’s smile widened and they dug into their suit pockets, producing two small handfuls of mini chocolates and toffees. They laid them on the floor between you two, picking out a small toffee for themself. “Take what you need. Is that, like, a new bee thing? The sugar?”
You grabbed a mini snickers, happy to indulge in the sweet nougat and caramel as you nodded. “My metabolism kicked it way up a notch and burns through energy super quickly now, not to mention my body digests things differently and needs much higher levels of blood sugar to keep me going. Don’t even get me started on how much of a strain it is with all these fucking smells. Being a bee is hard.”
“Huh, and here I was thinking life as a bee-woman-hybrid-thing would be easy- bee sy,” they said, shooting you a huge, cheesy smile.
You groaned out a laugh and flicked your wrapper at them. It didn’t go far, landing in the chip bowl instead. “That was absolutely fucking awful, I think one of my brain cells just died from hearing that,” you teased, grabbing another piece of candy. It wasn’t enough to fully regulate your levels, but it damn well felt good getting that sugar into your system. You really needed to get a handle on keeping your levels, well, level. “I see you got walking privileges,” you said, gesturing to the communicare strapped to their wrist. “What’s it like?”
“What, walking, or this hell?” they asked sarcastically, cracking open the bottle. It was rum, thank the gods. “I mean, I guess it’s better than Talon, but it’s also kind of worse. The doctors here care .” They shuddered, taking a small swig before offering you the bottle. “Feels like I just went from one hell to another.”
You laughed, taking a drink as well. The alcohol was smooth on your tongue and only burned a bit as it went down. “I’ll drink to that. I went from one cushy prison cell to another. Although, this one is slightly better because I have a partner who probably indulges me way too much.”
Bird frowned. “Wait, what? I thought you were, like, not a prisoner here?”
You sighed and leaned back against the stall wall, chewing on a piece of toffee. “Yeah, well, Mummy dearest had the foresight to brainwash me before sending me on an Overwatch killspree… I almost attacked Jesse when I got back…” You went quiet, thinking back to that day. It felt so awful trying to fight against the urge to kill him, like there was someone else in your body trying to take control, trying to kick you out. You shuddered.
Bird’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I thought we agreed I was the one who gets to kill the asshole cowboy.”
A laugh burst out of your chest, and you nudged them with your foot, shaking your head. “Don’t get me started. I swear that idiot begs for it. He knows he’s not allowed near my room because I can smell his ass and the moment I see him it’s on, and what does he do? Fucking drops off my dress and mask this morning, while I was awake! Like he hadn’t a goddamn care in the world!”
You didn’t realise how much time had passed, how long you’d spent sitting on the bathroom floor just talking with Bird, or how much you’d drank. It wasn’t the whole bottle, thank the gods, Bird had the foresight to take it away from you when it started to become obvious how little you could drink now, but your vision swam lightly and you felt a bit soupy. So much for staying mostly sober through this party. By the time Lena came wandering in to find you, all that really mattered to you was that you’d had fun, a lot more fun than you thought you would have had tonight.
Lena poked her head into the stall as you burst out in peals of laughter, amused by some stupid pun Bird had just made, and she smiled. “There you are! Jesse said you’d disappeared, and you aren’t answering your phone! What are you doin’ in here, love, the year’s about to end!”
You gasped and smiled up at Lena, pushing yourself up quickly to take her hands. “Lena!!! Look at you, you look absolutely adorable! Have I ever told you that you’re sooo pretty?” You giggled as you said this, giving her hands a squeeze. The words kind of came without warning, though they weren’t untrue. Lena was wearing a nice suit and a small domino mask similar to Jesse’s, but hers had little white pearls on it. And she was never anything but adorable.
“Oh, you’re pissed, aren’t you?” Lena chuckled, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “Do we need to take you back to your room?”
A sudden dread settled in your stomach and you frowned, blinking and trying to get your mind to focus. “No! No, no, no, no, I’m fine! I need… I need to see Jesse! Please, I’m okay, I can be good.” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Don’t put me to bed just yet!”
“Jesse and Hanzo are just waiting outside the door, do you-”
That was all you needed to hear. Giving Lena a quick peck on the cheek, you darted around her and slipped out of the bathroom, a little wobbly on your feet.
Jesse would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised to see her come rushing out of that bathroom, wobbly and obviously drunk. He had to quickly uncross his arms to reach out and grab her elbows as she stumbled, almost immediately pressing herself against his chest.
“M’sorry, I didn’t mean to ‘bandon you like that,” she said, a tremble to her words as she pushed herself up to look up at him. “Baxter’s a prick.”
He chuckled, his worry fading into relief that she was okay. After she’d waltzed off on Baxter’s arm - something he knew was just work, but still made him frown - he did his best to keep an eye on her. Of course, he lost her about halfway, and by the time he found her again, Baxter practically had his hands all over her. Despite the smile she had on, Jesse could tell how it bothered her, he just didn’t think it was enough to warrant her disappearing into a bathroom for nearly the whole party.
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m not mad,” he said soothingly, brushing her hair back and pressing a hand against her back to help steady and support her. “Are you okay? How much did you drink?”
Lena and Jay followed her out shortly after, Jay carrying a half empty bottle of rum and a large buffet bowl with candy wrappers inside. Ah, so that’s where she got the alcohol. Lena looked a bit embarrassed, a bit of lipstick smeared on her cheek, and Jesse just had to roll his eyes. So Briallen got kissy when she was drunk, huh? Well, it didn’t really bother him.
“I think we’re gonna take her back,” he said, offering Lena an apologetic smile. “Do you think you could watch over Jay for me?”
Lena smiled back, her gaze flickering worriedly between him and the woman in his arms, before she relaxed a bit and nodded. “Yeah, no problem. You three take care, and happy new year.”
They managed to get Briallen back to her room without any further incident, though Jesse just gave up trying to hold her steady and picked her up a quarter of the way there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, insisting that he keep her up. After all she didn’t “want to miss the fireworks”, and they “had to do it at the start of the year”. What they had to do, Jesse didn’t know, she got all shy and vague about it when questioned, and he didn’t bother to probe.
When they got to her room, he helped her out of her dress and into some pajamas. It took a couple tries to thread her wings through the holes provided for them, but they eventually got it. He then helped her remove her makeup, another difficult task as she would not sit still for him, no matter how sweetly he asked. She clung to his side nearly the entire time, though he could tell she was starting to flag a little. Of course, the moment she sat down on the couch, she passed out. After a little bit of deliberation and a tiny bit of quick bloodwork, it was deduced that it was the low blood sugar levels that got her, not the alcohol, but Jesse had an idea the alcohol helped.
Jesse chuckled and shook his head, looking over at Hanzo, knowing that he had that stupid smile again. After all of that, he found he really wasn’t as bothered as he would have been years ago. She was younger than them, from an experience and an age standpoint, so it would stand that she’d be a little less cautious about how much she drank, especially since she was still getting used to the changes her body was going through. It was also endearing, how she tried so hard to not seem inebriated, how she would whisper little things to herself and then giggle softly, laughing at her own private inside joke, and now, how she clung to him even in her sleep, wings twitching gently.
“She’s certainly had a day, hasn’t she?” he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair. “Wish she would’ve stayed, but I understand. Baxter is a prick.”
Hanzo chuckled, coming over with a large bottle of sugar water and some aspirin for her for when she woke up. “That he is. She misses you, Jesse. She will not stop talking about how she cannot wait for her treatment to be over. You are the first person she wants to see when it is declared official.”
Jesse’s smile widened and he reached out, taking his boyfriend’s hand. “Really? Well, I’m flattered.” He squeezed Hanzo’s hand, closing his eyes as the archer leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together - they had long since abandoned their masks. It felt right, having her weight pressed up against him, Han’s presence by his side. For the first time in over a month, the world felt right again. “Happy new year, Han,” he murmured, tilting his head back to steal a kiss.
Hanzo merely chuckled, looking down at their passed out girlfriend on the couch. His eyes softened with an undeniable fondness that made Jesse’s heart melt. “Yes. A Happy new year indeed.”
Chapter 28: The Elusive Author's Note
Chapter Text
Hi all! Seeing as today is the beginning of December and the coziest of holiday seasons, and I've run into a writing rut, I've decided that I'm going to do a 31-day prompted writing challenge for Over Easy! It's the same universe, with little minor changes, and will hopefully be updated every day. I make no guarantees, however, because life right now is far from predictable.
If you'd like to read it, here is the link; Holiday Prompts
Over Easy itself will still hopefully be getting updates, just not as often while I work on this. I hope you all don't mind too much.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Kwanzaa, Boxing day, and a happy Yule and bright solstice to you all!
Chapter 29: Honey, Milk, and Sugar; There Is Three
Notes:
Hey all! Sorry about the wait! Shortly after writing about six days worth of the holiday prompts, I short circuited my brain and ran into a massive ocean of writer's block. I think I just overloaded myself with two separate things to write, especially on top of learning the ropes at my new job. Updates aren't going to be going back to normal, but they will hopefully happen more often. The Holiday Prompts will be updated, but at the pace I deem necessary. I'd rather be working on the actual story than a bunch of writing prompts, as this plot is more important. We still have a ways to go until this story is finished, so I hope you all stick with me! It's going to be one hell of a ride! - Bees
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You woke up the next morning to a weight on your shoulders and a splitting headache. Through the fog that clouded your mind, you were able to identify a few other oddities as well. ‘ Nausea… excessive hunger… pins and needles… fuck, I didn’t eat enough sugar last night, did I?’ Groaning, you pushed yourself up, nearly knocking Piddie to the floor. Your arms were unsteady beneath you and you would have collapsed back onto the couch, were it not for the large muzzle that slipped beneath your chest to keep you up.
Through slightly blurred vision, you were able to make out the familiar blue glow that sat on the floor next to your couch and the other one that slid up to you with something clenched in its mouth. The dragons both looked up at you with worried eyes, the one holding you up helping you maneuver until you were sitting and the other placing what appeared to be a bottle in your lap.
“Whasthis?” you mumbled, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, slurring your speech. The bottle felt heavy in your hands as you picked it up, watching as one of the dragons dashed into the adjacent room. ‘ A bottle? Water? Or something else? Fuck… I really need to get a handle on this… ’
“Hachi?” You quickly swerved your head, making the world tilt as you turned to see Hanzo stepping into the living room, a robe of some kind wrapped around him. Your mind wouldn’t provide the word for it in this state.
Without speaking, you held the bottle up, drawing your eyebrows together in question.
“Sugar water,” he said, coming to sit beside you. “Do you need me to open it?”
“No.” You struggled with the bottle cap, your hands shaking too much for you to really get a good grip on it. “Diabhal, yes.”
He chuckled, gently taking the bottle from you. “You did not drink enough last night.”
Groaning, you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. Your fingers found themselves tangling in a soft mane, a heavy head in your lap. This headache you knew was not from the hypoglycemia, but from the hangover. Which was strange, because you didn’t remember drinking that much last night. “Drank plenty.”
You could practically feel the hard look he gave you. “We made those arrangements for a reason, Hachi. We wanted to avoid this exact scenario.”
You shrugged a bit, shaking your head. “Sorry. Is… hard.”
His frown was near tangible in the air around him, and he stood, shooing the dragon out of the way so he could crouch in front of you. He picked up one of your hands, looking at it intently before he sighed and looked back up at you. “Do we need to get Angela? Your speech is slurred and you are shaking, Hachi.”
You shook your head. You knew how to get through an episode like this, getting Angela wouldn’t help. All she could do or tell you to do was to make sure you leveled out your blood sugar as quickly as you could. There was no medication, no treatment plan, just some snacks to eat, maybe a soda or two to drink, though you would prefer orange juice. “No. Just… drink.” You held out your hand, reaching for the bottle, but Hanzo stopped you.
“Your hands are shaking too much, you will do nothing but spill it. Allow me to help you,” he murmured, waiting for your reluctant grunt to bring the bottle to your lips. You greedily drank the water down, dehydrated and keenly craving that sugar, and it was gone before a minute was up. He waited for you to stabilise a bit before he probed you some more. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”
You leaned back, taking a second to appreciate the sugar boost and let it sink in before you spoke. “Getting drunk or Baxter?”
“Baxter.”
Groaning, you reached up, running still shaking fingers through your hair. “Baxter’s a real piece of work. I don’t know what his angle is yet, but he likes me. Gave me his business card after getting kind of handsy.”
“You let him?”
You snorted, opening your eyes to look over at Hanzo. It wasn’t hard to catch a glimpse of the conflicting emotions. He was upset at the very least, pissed off at the very most. “Han, if we get this deal, if the UN decides to fully fund us again, he’s gonna be the big kahuna, my boss’s boss. I can’t risk him not liking me. In that small chat we had, he called me an idiot, threatened my job, then told me it’d be a shame not to see me around the office because he thinks I’m so pretty. It’s easy to see he’s reaching for an in, and if I can be that in, if I can make sure we get this funding, hell, I’ll play honey trap as long and as well as I need to.” He flinched at that, and you sighed, reaching forward to cup his cheeks. “I’m not going to let it get that far. Big boss or not, there are only two men in my life who I will allow to see me in the nip, and Arthur Baxter is not one of them.”
“Jesse and I should count ourselves very lucky, then,” he said softly, giving you a cheeky grin as he turned to press a kiss to your palm.
“Whoever said it was the both of you?” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. You liked it when he wore it down, it looked nice on him, made him look less severe, but still pretty. He was pretty no matter what he did to his hair, but having it down was definitely more fun. “ Mo phiorra spíceach ,” you murmured, chuckling at his confusion. “ Is ceol mo chroí thú .”
He sighed, his lips still pressed against the meat of your palm before they moved to your wrist. “You are being unfair. You know I can’t speak Gaelic,” he muttered, lacing his fingers with yours.
“All the more reason to use it, love. That way I can call you all sorts of sweet names in public and you can’t say a word about it,” you whispered, gently tugging him up to bring him to eye level. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckled, shaking his head and kissed you softly.
“There are a plethora of things I could say about it, Hachi,” he grumbled, pulling away to smooth down your hair. “I could say plenty of things about you as well, troublemaker.”
You gasped, tugging at his robe, pulling him closer. “Lies! Lies and slander! I could sue you for that, you know.”
He simply smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose before he reached down and removed your fingers from his robe. “How are you feeling? Do I need to grab another bottle?”
“No, I’m feeling much better, thank you, mo grhá .” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, groaning when your computer chimed from across the room. “I should probably get to work,” you sighed, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I have a few reports to sort through, some requests to field, and a meeting to schedule. Actually, Athena?” You tilted your head back, talking up to the ceiling.
“Yes, Miss Marsh?” Athena responded immediately, sounding all too pleased to be called on.
“Contact Agent Mills, tell him to come down to my quarters at around,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, thinking, “noon. I need to talk to him privately.”
Hanzo gave you a look that you brushed aside with a kiss, going to slip off the couch and get ready for the day. “You are inviting another man to your quarters,” he said slowly, frowning, watching you walk off into the bedroom with Raijin hot on your heels.
“It’s just business, babe. I need to talk to him about some files and I can’t have anything on record about them. We don’t want to risk mister big britches finding out about Morrigan, do we?” you asked, mostly as a rhetorical question as you picked out a sensible sweater and some jeans. Nothing Overwatch-issued, and definitely not office attire, but it would work for your meeting. Most of the time, you worked in your pajamas, so this would be a change.
Hanzo grunted from his spot in the other room and you knew you hadn’t appeased him. Han was a jealous type, after all, and you knew the concept of you inviting over any other man besides his brother and Lucio was never going to sit well with him. He would just have to deal with this for the time being. “I suppose I will get started on breakfast,” he said, and you heard him stand. “Any requests?”
“Whatever you’re in the mood for, Han,” you called back, slipping into the bathroom, the dragon brushing himself against your ankles. “I’ll just have another bottle of sugar water with it.”
In your life, and in Morrigan’s, you’d met many intimidating men. Agent Jordan Mills was not one of them. Tall and lanky, he had the stature of a metal pole, and wasn’t much thicker around either. He looked in desperate need of some sleep, probably having been put on reworking some system archives to make room for the UN tech workers. They were hopeful, everyone was, that this would go through and Overwatch would get the funding it needed, the only problem, one you could see quickly coming up on the horizon, was how the UN would hover over you and track every move.
Mills was nervous as he entered your quarters, quick blue eyes immediately drawn to the intimidating archer sat in the corner; Hanzo made no effort to hide his dislike of the man. “You-You called for me, Miss Marsh?” he asked, adjusting his tie with a gulp.
You shot a glare Hanzo’s way and waved him out of the room, taking the pot off the oven and pouring Mills a cup of tea with a smile. “Yes! Yes, come in, make yourself comfortable. Athena, privacy mode, please.”
Athena let out a soft beep, indicating she’d heard what you said and that everything from this moment on would not be recorded. Good. At least Athena had the foresight to not argue with you on this, though you had a feeling you’d be discussing the ethics of your moves later on.
“We have quite a bit to talk about, Agent Mills,” you said, handing him a cup as he perched anxiously on the edge of the couch.
His eyes wandered to your wings, and you felt them twitch behind you. As soon as he noticed you watching him, he averted his gaze, instead looking down at the tea in his hands. “I-I’m not in trouble, ma’am, am I?”
“Of course not,” you soothed, settling down in the armchair next to him, keen eyes locked on his face. Raijin had slung himself over the back, looking more regal than you’d ever seen him, and rested his tail protectively against your shoulder.
This was all a longshot, a really, really stupid longshot whose probability of success you didn’t want anyone calculating. You couldn’t order Mills to keep silent about this if Winston asked any questions. While you were his superior, you weren’t his boss, and you had no true authority over him, even if he didn’t know the whole of it.
“No, you’re not in trouble, Mills, but what I need to discuss with you is very important.” You watched as he eyed his tea nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. There was fear in his posture, in the quick glances he kept shooting your way. That was strange. Mills should have no reason to fear you, you hadn’t given anyone, save the people who knew your past, any reason to- Oh.
Shifting in your seat, you took a slow sip of your tea. English breakfast, four spoons of sugar, a splash of milk. You let the taste dance over your tongue before you spoke. “But before we get to that, we need to talk about what’s got you so nervous. You’ve read the files, haven’t you?”
He nodded, still refusing to meet your gaze. “I-uh, yes,” he managed, his voice catching a bit. “I have. I, um, I was put in charge of shifting the archives and I found… It was attached to your file. I-I know I shouldn’t have read it! I’m sorry! It was just, no one else has a file like that and I was worried it might be a bug or something and-”
“That file is locked under level five security access,” you interrupted, eyeing Mills curiously. “Whether or not you were tasked with moving archive files, you shouldn’t have been able to access the contents of that file.”
Mills flinched, rubbing his thumb against the handle of the tea cup. “Yes, well, um.”
“You cracked it, didn’t you?” you pressed, sitting forward in your seat. Something in you lit up, a fierce curiosity that begged and prodded you to demand him to grant you access to that file. You wanted, you needed to know what was on that file. You’d already spent so long trying to decipher everything and- You couldn’t focus on that right now. In fact, you weren’t sure you really, truly wanted to know what secrets were kept in the file. Your memories were bad enough, you didn’t want to know more, not right now, not when you were just starting to get your life back together.
“I- Might’ve cracked it open, yes,” he said, wincing and looking anywhere but at you.
Leaning forward, you reached out to rest a hand on his knee, the closet bit of him to you, and caught his gaze. “Mills, you’re not in trouble. I promise. I understand that normally you would be, but I have a proposition to make. If you have any interest in ensuring that little bit of information doesn’t get out, I urge that you seriously consider it.”
He swallowed thickly again, eyes flicking between you, the dragon glaring at him from the back of your chair, and the room Hanzo had been banished to earlier. “A prop-proposiston?” he squeaked, chuckling and nervously pulling at his collar. “I-I’m flattered, but, um-”
Suddenly aware of how your actions had made the situation seem, you patted his knee and offered an apologetic smile. “Nothing along those lines, I assure you,” you said, leaning back in your chair. You raised a hand, scratching underneath Raijin’s chin to calm the twitchy dragon. “I have enough drama in my life to add another office romance into the mix. No, I have another idea. I need you to destroy the file.”
Jesse sat in the waiting room, bouncing his leg restlessly as he played with his hat in his hands. It’d been just over a week and a half when he got the notification, when Athena told him his presence was required, not requested. He hadn’t been back at headquarters long, only just having gotten back from some stupid political meeting. They were trying to use him as an example of the amnesty programme gone right, trying to keep that possibility for others who might come along. While he understood the purpose and the importance of the programme, he didn’t like the fact that they were dragging him into it, especially didn’t like that he might become their posterboy. Jesse McCree was in no way shape or form entirely “reformed”, his days after Blackwatch were proof of that.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Right now, he was anxiously awaiting possibly one of the first intensely emotionally charged moments of the new year. They’d finally cracked through Briallen’s brainwashing. From this day forward, there was no more hiding, no more begging Han for daily updates, no more pinning from behind a closed door, she was free. His little sunbeam was free.
It felt like he’d been waiting in that room for forever, even though it had only been about ten minutes, and the anxiety was only building, until the door knob jiggled. Immediately, he was up on his feet, clutching the brim of his hat while he watched the door. The moment she walked out of that office, it was like his whole world lit up. He drank in the sight of her, no mask, no fancy clothes, just her, and it felt like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. He’d never noticed the tiny dimples she had, or the particular way her eyes crinkled when she smiled at him, had never gotten the chance to really count the freckles on her cheeks or to admire the way her eyes shifted colour the further from the pupils they went, going from a dark chocolate in the middle to a warm honey gold around the edges. But he saw all that now. He saw her, flaws and all, and it made his heart ache.
“H-Honeybee?” he asked softly, still standing near the chairs, almost afraid to approach as much as he was relieved to see her.
Her nose scrunched up and she gave him a wry grin, shaking her head so that her hair fell in tiny little cascades around her cheeks. Her wings twitched in amusement behind her, catching and glowing in the light. “Now that one’s just lazy, Jess.”
In an instant, he had crossed the room, engulfing her in an embrace and holding her tightly against his chest. Tears lined his eyes as he held her, breathing in that sweet, familiar vanilla honey scent, his fingers carding through her hair. “Fuckin’ hell, darlin’,” he murmured, chuckling even though his chest hurt. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you outta my sight again.”
She clutched at his jacket, burying herself in the embrace, and he could feel her tremble a bit. He expected her to argue, to tell him it wasn’t fair, because it wasn’t. It was selfish of him to feel like that, to want to lock her away where she couldn't ever get into trouble again, but she just laughed softly, pushing herself back to look up to him, those soft hands coming up to caress his cheeks.
“Okay,” she murmured, a few tears of her own slipping down her cheeks. She looked into his eyes, wiping away his tears, and Jesse could feel how much she had missed him. He had felt some of it back at the party, even through her anger, but here, it was so loud and on display, it made him ache even more.
He let out a shuddering chuckle, recognising the look of “Is this even real?” in her eyes, and he surged forward, peppering her face with kisses, basking in the warmth of her laughter. This was real, she was here, she was safe, and she wasn’t alone, not anymore. He pulled her into a kiss, needing that touch, that reassurance as much as she did. “Been wantin’ to do that since ya got back,” he murmured, smiling when she pulled away, breathless. “Love you, babygirl.”
Her cheeks caught a flame, turning a full shade of red as she leaned forward, hiding her face in his chest. “I love you too,” she whispered, keeping her face hidden for a few seconds before she looked back up at him, all smiles and sunshine and warmth.
Jesse swore his heart burst at the sight. She’d never said that to him, not in person, and to hear it from her now meant everything and the world to him. She meant the world to him and seeing her in person, hearing her voice again, it felt just as right as rain.
Her eyes, those pretty little pools of shifting amber, tore away from his to glance to her right. He jumped when he turned to see what she was looking at, surprised to find Hanzo walking up, as silent as ever.
“Jesus, Han,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and holding the other one out for his boyfriend. “Didn’t even hear you come in, sweetheart.” He held Hanzo tightly against his side, pressing a kiss to his forehead as the smaller man laughed.
“Good, that means I have not quite lost my touch yet. Though I feel I cannot sneak up on you, Hachi,” Hanzo murmured, reaching forward to cup one of Briallen’s cheeks, running his thumb affectionately across her scars.
She giggled softly, shaking her head. “It’s not hard to miss the scent of cherry blossoms and sandalwood when I’ve been living with it for the past month.”
Jesse looked down at the two of them, beaming. This was it, this is what he’d been waiting for, the moment he wanted most in the world. Just the three of them, together at last. Nothing standing in between them. He let out a soft breath he’d been holding, and pulled them closer, closing his eyes. ‘ Thank you. ’
Notes:
Translations
* Diabhal - damn
* Mo phiorra spíceach - My spiky pear
* Is ceol mo chroí thú - You are the music of my heart
* mo grhá - my love
Chapter 30: Interlude
Chapter Text
"When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver’d o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence."
- William Shakespeare
Chapter 31: The Queen O' The Sky
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
You choked on the smoke as you flapped your wings, desperately trying to clear the air around you as you searched for the little splotches of colour that marked your targets. The air was getting hotter and more oppressive, clouding your lungs, burning your throat, and stinging your eyes even through the goggles you wore to protect them. You didn’t have much time left, and neither did they. The building was collapsing around you, fire licking at the walls and eating through the furniture that had previously decorated the hallway.
“Monarch, what do you think you’re doing?! That building is about to collapse! Get yourself out of there! ” the voice screamed in your ear as you slowly made your way down the hall, breathing as shallowly and as little as you could. Your skin felt like it was about to melt off and you knew your lungs were full of smoke.
“No way,” you responded, throat raw from the smoke and giving your voice a nice, husky element to it. “Not without getting them out first! Mercy, I need you and Reinhardt on standby outside. I can’t guarantee my wings are going to support us both, I’m starting to run low on energy here.”
“ Understood. I will have a bottle of sugar water ready for you when you get down here, Monarch.”
“Absolutely not! Monarch, get yourself out of that building right now! That’s an order!”
You rolled your eyes at Jack’s antics, shaking your head as you paused in a doorway. Poking your head in, you desperately searched the room, watching the smoke turn from a dark gray to a deep red as your vision switched. Nothing. Sighing, you turned away. “I’m not leaving them here to die, Soldier!”
A buzzing by your ear turned your attention towards another room, the little fluorescent bee-bot zooming through the doorway. From within the room, you could hear a faint child’s voice calling out. Summoning your strength, you pushed away from the wall, stumbling into the smoke-filled room. In the corner was a little girl, trapped beneath some rubble, her cheek glowing a soft yellow from the bee-bot rubbing up against it. She caught sight of you standing in the doorway and cried out, reaching one little hand towards you. She couldn’t have been more than six, the poor thing, and she looked like she was in agony.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay! I’m here to help you!” you said, hurrying over to her side to begin lifting some of the burning debris off of her. You couldn’t imagine the damage done to her body already. You had to get her out of there before it became worse. “Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?”
The little girl sobbed, looking up at you, helpless. “Lizzie,” she coughed.
“Lizzie? That’s a beautiful name! You’re doing such a good job Lizzie. Here, hold this over your mouth, okay? It’ll help you breathe better.” You handed her a small oxygen mask, making sure she had it on correctly and it was working before turning back to the steel beams pinning the child down. “Alright Lizzie, I’m going to try to pull these beams up, okay? When we feel the pressure lighten, we’re going to need to use all the strength in our arms to pull ourselves forward, got it? Alright, three, two, one!”
The beams only lifted about an inch, not enough to free little Lizzie, before they fell back as your strength began to fade. The ceiling above you shifted, threatening more collapse. ‘ No, no, no, okay, there’s other ways to do this. I need something for leverage… No, nothing in this room will help… Maybe-’ “Okay, we’re going to try this again. I need you to be as still as you can, Lizzie.”
“Am I gonna die?” she asked, her tearful voice muffled by the mask.
“No, sweetheart, you are not going to die,” you said, your heart hurting a bit as you tugged one of your pauldrons off your shoulder. “We’re going to get you out of here safe and sound, Lizzie. Let’s try this again, alright? Three, two, one!” On one, you lifted the beams and shoved the pauldron underneath before activating it. The pauldron expanded into a golden hard-light shield, lifting the beams up a few more inches. The pile of debris shuddered, and, before it could collapse again, you yanked Lizzie out by her arms, sweeping her up against your chest, and hurried to the door. You heard the tell-tale crunch of your pauldron behind you as the debris pile collapsed, taking large chunks of the ceiling with it. The new falling debris nearly flattened you and the child as it closed off your escape.
‘ Well, Torbjorn isn’t going to be happy about that… ’ you thought, turning around to assess your surroundings.
Lizzie cried softly, one little hand clinging to the fabric of your kevlar suit.
You shushed her, brushing your fingers through her hair as you thought. It looked like the window was the only way out, so you hurried over, only to find the latch melted shut. ‘ Fuck. Looks like the only way out is smashing through this… Shield first. I’ll heal from the glass cuts, but Lizzie might not be so lucky .’ “You’re being so brave for me, Lizzie, thank you so much,” you soothed, giving her a smile. “I need you to cling to me as tightly as you can and close your eyes, okay?” You shook out your wings as you attached your last remaining pauldron to your forearm, preparing to smash through the window and fall from about thirteen stories above the ground.
Nerves bouncing in your veins, you activated the shield, holding it in front of you as you stepped back as far as you could, ready for that running start. The glass shattered on impact, and soon you were free from the smoke-filled room and careening backwards through the air as you twisted to shield Lizzie from the falling shards of glass. You vaguely heard the screams and shouting of the gathered crowd beneath you, too focused on taking a few deep gulps of fresh air and trying to right yourself once you were a safe distance from the building. Wind fighting back against the spread of your wings, you tipped over, facing the ground you were rapidly approaching. In this position, it was much easier to flare your wings just so to catch the wind and control your descent. Flight was out of the question. It’d been too long since your last sugar intake and you’d wasted a lot of your strength getting other people out of the building as well.
“ Monarch, you’re going too fast, you need to slow down! ” Angela said, her voice strained from the worry.
“Not happening. I can hardly keep my wings open. Someone’s gonna have to give me a soft landing!” You shot back, tilting your right wing to send you hurtling to your left. Spreading your wings a little helped slow your fall, but it wasn’t enough.
“ You’re going to have to stall, then, ” came Jack’s reply. He was pissed and you could tell. “ Circle the street, we’ll get something jerry-rigged. ”
“Copy!” Tilting your wings a bit more, you managed to turn your high-speed descent to death into an extended glide, flying over the crowd of reporters and evacuated tenants. Oh, great, the press was here. Lizzie clung tightly to you, squeaking out a soft whimper from time to time. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but already you could feel the exhaustion creeping up on you. Thankfully, by that time, you noticed they had managed to put together a life-net in the middle of the street, away from the crowd of people.
With a sigh of relief, you turned your wings to angle yourself towards the net, twisting in the air at the last second to shield little Lizzie from the impact. Pain shot through your spine as you collided with the net, though it quickly disappeared as a light golden glow enveloped you, quickly healing whatever damage the impact had caused. As soon as the net stopped bouncing, someone gently pried Lizzie from your arms and thrust a bottle at you, which you greedily downed.
“That was an idiotic move,” Angela said tersely, already setting to assessing Lizzie’s injuries. By the look on her face, it wasn’t good. “You could have died in there, Monarch.”
You grinned, taking off your goggles and wiping some soot off your face. “Yeah, but I didn’t, and we got everyone out. At the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”
You saw the frown creeping on the edges of Angela’s lips, but you knew you were right. What was your job if you weren’t helping people? Sometimes if your life wasn’t on the line, it meant you weren’t doing your job right.
“Monarch! Are you okay, kleinen ?” Reinhardt asked, reaching down to gently help you to your feet. His eyes were filled with worry as he looked you over, almost as if you’d not taken near impossible dives before and lived to tell the tale.
“I’m fine, Reinhardt, really,” you said, offering a cheery smile as you wobbled unsteadily to your feet. “Just a little dizzy.” You waved away the small group of medics, already feeling the soreness in your throat and lungs beginning to fade. Your small burns had long since healed, nothing having been deep enough to take more than a few minutes to heal over. Anyway, those medics had more important people to look after who didn’t have an accelerated rate of healing.
“You should let them look over you, kleine biene ,” the crusader said softly, his heavy hand coming to rest on your shoulders. “At least for your lover’s sakes.”
“Han and Jess know about my rate of healing, they’ll know I’m fine,” you insisted, cringing as you saw the swarm of reporters fighting against the line of police meant to keep them away from the Overwatch members that were there that day. “I’m just a little wind-drunk. I’ll be steady in a few moments.”
“Monarch! Monarch!” The reporters broke through the barrier of bodies, pushing each other in their rush to make their way over to you. As the last hero out of the burning building, and the newest face on the roster, you were their favourite to pester.
“Monarch! What happened in there?” asked one, trying to shove her microphone into your face, only to have it batted aside by another.
“Monarch, how are you still so calm after jumping a thirteen-storey height?”
“How did the fire start?”
“Why didn’t you fly down like normal? Is there something wrong with your wings?”
“Was that an explosion we heard earlier? What was going on in that building?”
“Who was that little girl?”
You hesitated, still smiling brightly at the reporters as you desperately searched for Jack. “Um, no, nothing’s wrong with my wings. I just didn’t have the energy to fly, I’d used too much getting other people out earlier. I’m calm because I’ve taken dives like that before, and-”
“And the rest is classified,” Jack interrupted, his frown audible behind his mask and visor. “No more questions. Monarch, a word.”
“Have the medics looked you over yet?” Jack asked, leading you into the array of emergency vehicles parked near the explosion sight.
“No, they haven’t, but I-” you tried to dismiss the idea of being looked over, but Jack wasn’t having it. He silenced you with a wave of his hand and ushered the medics over.
“Look her over,” he said, the sternness in his voice unmistakeable. You were definitely in for a talking to.
“Commander, I-”
“It’s standard procedure, soldier. If you can’t follow my orders in the field, you are going to follow procedure afterward, do I make myself clear?” he snapped, his glare tangible through his visor. “Now, please, look her over. If there’s so much as a scratch, I want to hear about it.”
“Yessir,” one of the medics, a colleague you knew by the name of Nairit Mari, said, as he quickly set to giving you the general physical. “Sorry, Bri,” he murmured under his breath, offering you a small smile. He, like everybody else, already knew of your condition, of your quick healing. It was what made you such an efficient agent, after all.
The five of you sat in silence, the medics knowing better than to ask too many questions. If you’d had a problem, you would have mentioned it. One of them handed you another bottle of sugar water, which you sipped at while they poked and prodded at your body. You dutifully opened your mouth so they could inspect your throat and mouth for any damage from the smoke inhalation and sat still when they combed through your hair to free it of glass debris. When they were done, they all stepped back, Mari staying while the others left.
“Well, it looks like you’re in good condition, Miss Monarch. One of your hindwings was torn, looked like damage from a hot metal slicing through it, but it looks to be healing up just fine. You should be ready to fly again in a matter of minutes at this point,” he said, giving you a smile before turning to Jack. “Commander.” He gave Jack a salute before he left, leaving you with the quietly furious soldier.
Eyes wide, you spun around, trying to get a look at your wings, which had become difficult as they’d hardened months before and no longer bent forward enough for you to see more than the wing tip. “Did- What? I- When did that happen? I swear I would have felt that!”
“Be still, Monarch,” Jack growled, making you freeze in place. “What will it take for you to listen to me? I gave you an order and you willfully ignored it. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it, either. I will not stand for insubordination! If this keeps going, I’m going to have to start benching you, and eventually removing you from the roster permanently.”
You frowned, scrunching your brows together as you looked up at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, soldier. You’re reckless, you take risks that don’t need to be taken, you don’t follow orders, and you throw yourself into the line of fire every chance that you get. You need to get your act together or-”
“I’m reckless because I can afford to be,” you cut in, folding your arms over your chest. “Who else here has such a fast rate of healing? Who else here can walk into a smoke-filled building with minimal risk of permanent damage? Who else here can throw herself out of a thirteen storey window with only the threat of maybe a few broken bones? I throw myself into the line of fire because I know I can handle the pain and I would rather save my teammates than save myself, and I go into those burning buildings because I’d rather risk injury to myself or die trying to save someone than letting them die knowing I could have at least tried.”
The Commander was quiet, watching you as you glared at him.
“My job is to save people, Commander. Are you really going to punish me for doing so?”
“Yes. At least until you learn that orders need to be followed- Don’t argue with me, soldier. You’re benched until further notice,” he said, but you could hear the reluctance in his voice. “I’ll contact you tomorrow morning with your punishment. Now, go help Angela with the other injured tenants, you are a trained field medic, are you not?”
You hesitated, wanting to argue your case further, but knowing it would get you nowhere. So you turned around and went to help with the victims of the explosion. Beenz, the little bee-bot, hovered near your shoulder, connecting to the omnic parts of your mind to talk with you.
“ You should listen to him from time to time, you know ,” she said, her little voice clear in your mind. It had taken some getting used to, connecting with her. She was originally just supposed to be a support tool, a little bot to help you on missions, but she’d eventually developed a consciousness of her own, which helped especially on those long, lonely missions.
“ I know. But I shouldn’t have to listen when doing so puts someone else’s life in more danger. It’s unfair ,” you thought back, sighing and tugging on your gloves. You hissed as pain shot through your fingertips and quickly pulled off your gloves, sending a few shards of glass cascading to the ground. The cuts on your fingers healed as you watched, leaving little to no blood behind, and suddenly, you were more than glad you’d gotten them. It was a residue from saving Lizzie’s life, from getting her out of there before the floor collapsed. It was a reminder that you’d done a good job.
Looking around, you smiled, nodding to the tenets you’d helped evacuate, checking up on a few of them. You stopped and had conversations while helping to bandage up their wounds, using some of the medical grade honey in your kit to help soothe some of the burns. The honey was made specially for you. As a rescue medic, sometimes you found yourself trapped or stuck with victims you had to take care of until the real heroes arrived. The honey, filled with plenty of sugars and Angela’s nanotechnology, could serve as emergency energy rations for you, or a salve to spread on burns, cuts, and avulsions to help them heal faster. You had different kinds for different types, and even a few that weren’t meant to be used for healing purposes but instead quite the opposite. Each batch was made by a swarm of bee-bots similar to Beenz, but created for the sole purpose of creating your healing kit. Thankfully, none of them had developed a consciousness like your miniature partner had.
As you helped with the victims, you listened to their stories. One was an old woman who lived with her two little dogs, only one of which made it out of the building alive and stuck close to her side, licking the honey from your hands when you were done tending to his owner. Another was a mother visiting her son, another a businessman renting a room for a month, another a chef. Their stories were one of your favourite parts of being a field medic, you loved hearing about their lives, what they did for a living, who was waiting for them back home, what they had been doing before you saved them. Their thanks were all you needed, but the pay from Overwatch wasn’t bad either.
“Excuse me, Monarch?” one of the patients called, waving you over as you finished with another victim, an old man who’d barely made it out alive. This new patient was young, probably in her early twenties, and she looked nervous.
Giving her a gentle smile, you came over, wiping your sticky hands off with a disinfectant wipe another medic had handed you. “Yes, miss? Is there something I can help you with?”
She furrowed her brows a bit, but managed a weak smile. “I, uh, I was wondering if you could help me with this?” she asked, holding out her arm which sported a rather nasty third degree burn on her forearm. “I-I-I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’ve heard your honey relieves wonders, and I-”
“Of course! There’s no need to be so nervous, you know. I’m still a person just like you,” you said with a knowing grin. You crouched down next to her, removing one of the vials from your belt and set to spreading the salve. Her sigh of relief was audible and made you both chuckle. You talked, though she didn’t give up much detail as to her life, and she was a little less nervous when you finished drying the salve.
“That’s going to stay hard for at least a day,” you said, wiping your hands off on the wipe. “Don’t get it wet, and wait for it to fall off on its own. It’ll come off when the wound has healed enough for normal topical treatments to still offer relief, if it hasn’t healed entirely by then.”
“Thank you so much, ah, here.” Suddenly, she grabbed you by the hands, pulling you close enough that you were nearly in her lap. Her lips sought out your ear as she pressed something hard into your hands. “Be careful. She’s watching.”
You yanked yourself quickly away, eyes wide with alarm. The look on the woman’s face was serious as she nodded and pushed herself up, not looking back up at you as she wove her way into the crowd.
The object was hard in your hands, the edges poking into your palm. It was a usb drive, old technology that hadn’t been used in ages. On it was two words written in black sharpie. Black Wasp.
Notes:
Translations
* kleinen - small one
* kleine biene - little bee
Chapter 32: Surprise! It's Another Author's Note
Chapter Text
So, I have some bad news. Your girl spilt water all over her laptop and now it's busted. Currently, I am making this update from my phone, but I do not plan to try to write the next chapter from my phone. Unfortunately, I don't have the money to either fix or replace my laptop at the moment, so Over Easy is going to be on hiatus for a while. If I can manage to update from work, I will, but I dont think that's possible. I am so sorry to the people who were eagerly awaiting the next update.
Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me so far, I just ask that you be patient and stick with me still. We're not even close to being done with this story and I have no intention of letting it die.
Love you all! -Bees
Chapter 33: Sweet Lovers Love The Spring
Notes:
I'm alive! And we have got the laptop working again! As it stands, however, I've only ever been able to find time to write between phone calls at work when my boss isn't looking. I'm still working on plot right now, so enjoy a chapter that is just entirely fluff! Hopefully by this time next month I can be back on track with this!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“And now we move on to our next segment. The city of Highbury was left quaking after an explosion in one of its downtown apartment buildings caught the building aflame, endangering many lives within. Overwatch members already on the scene set immediately to evacuating the building, the daring rescue spearheaded by our newest striped hero,” the newscaster said, her too-white teeth glistening in the bright lights of the set. She shuffled the papers in front of her, her bright gaze and fake smile never leaving the camera as the feed shifted to show a picture of you, exhausted, covered in soot, but still smiling brightly as you stood next to the crusader who towered above you. “With an amazing zero death toll and very few seriously injured, it seems our little Monarch, with the help of her teammates, has saved the day yet again. Don?”
The feed cut to another newscaster, standing outside the new Overwatch base currently being constructed outside the London city limits. He was a short, rounded man, whose smile was so fake it almost hurt to look at, but he seemed to hold a certain excitement about him that kept your eyes glued on him. “Yes, Lisa, the new hero who sprang out of the woodwork upon Overwatch’s reinstatement certainly has created quite a reputation for herself! Fearlessly diving out of thirteen-storey windows, charging headfirst into burning buildings, carrying grown men to safety, and even tending to the wounded, it seems there is nothing this fierce bee is not willing to do for the people. Even still, so much about this new heroic medic is unknown to us. Where did she come from? How did she come to gain her abilities? And just who is this Monarch? As of yet, she has denied any and all personal interviews, leaving the public to speculate as to-”
“That’s enough of that,” you muttered, leaning over to mute the news broadcast, frowning. It’d only been a month since you joined the roster, five months since Overwatch had been reinstated, and six months since you’d started your training. In that time, you had been kept no secret as reporters had swarmed the compound, at Jack’s behest, of course, and there had been nowhere to hide. Had you looked like any other agent there, they might have left you alone. Your scars were fine, so many other agents had them all over the place, no, it was your wings that got you in trouble.
Immediately, you’d been marked as an up-and-coming hero, and the press just ate you up. They chewed you down with question after question, many of which you hadn’t wanted to answer. You wanted to keep some privacy to yourself, and, for the most part, you had. Your superiors looked out for you, thankfully, each of them gently coaxing the reporters away from those prodding questions and onto other things while you were in their presence. Jessie and Hanzo had also been so good about keeping your relationship a secret, knowing that what you three had would be twisted in the eyes of the press. It had been hard for Jessie to keep his hands off of you, and Hanzo had to stop himself from scowling too much when any of the reporters got too close. You spent that week alone in your own room. It felt strange falling asleep without at least one body pressed against you, and waking to an empty bed, and you were so grateful to return to the scent of cigar smoke and cherry blossoms that typically clung to your sheets in the mornings.
“Aww, c’mon, darlin’, I like this channel,'' Jesse pouted, looking up from the kitchenette and over to where you and Hanzo sat curled up on the couch. His hair was a mess, as it usually was after a shower, with little pieces sticking up here and there from where he had vigorously rubbed a towel over it. “It’s always featurin’ my favourite things.”
You snorted softly, shaking your head as the screen changed to feature a video of you leaping out of the window earlier this morning, your usually yellow suit coated in a thick layer of soot, one of your hindwings obviously torn, and little Lizzie clutched tightly to your chest. Watching from the outside, you could appreciate your form when you twisted mid-air, your wings catching the air flow and diverting it to allow you to glide. Whoever captured this must have experience filming you in flight, as they were able to easily predict when you were about to take a turn and kept you in the centre of the footage nearly the entire time.
“Why settle for the newscast when the real disappointment is sitting right in front of you,” you murmured, letting out a sigh as Raijin slid out from under the couch to come cuddle on your lap. Jack’s words still echoed through your mind and you cringed, knowing that you weren’t the only one who had heard them, not with the amount of people that had been in the same general area.
Hanzo’s arm tightened around you and he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You are not a disappointment, Hachi. You did a wonderful job out there, even if you stressed out both of your partners despite us asking you to be careful.” His voice was laced with a light growl that tickled your skin. Despite the light, playful tone, you could hear the worry underneath. The worry had a familiar buzz to it, a sudden reminder that they knew well, and perhaps were too familiar with, the things that could happen on a mission like that. They’d been through so much, alone and together, and their minds didn’t hesitate to remind them of what could go wrong, of what could happen to you. You weren’t as invincible as you might portray yourself to be, and they knew that all too well.
A guilty pang struck your chest, and you managed a small, apologetic smile as you ran your fingers through the dragon’s mane. “I am a brat, aren’t I?” you asked, an attempt at a light-hearted apology. You wouldn’t apologise for saving those people’s lives, but you would apologise for making them worry.
His chuckle was soft, brushing through your hair as he shifted, casting a glance over to Jess, who stood by the kitchenette counter, smirking. “That you are, Hachi. If only you’d leave that in the bedroom.”
You responded by sticking your tongue out at him, noting how the air in the room, which had started to become pregnant with tension, lightened. You were grateful for it, not wanting to dive into heavy topics right now. What you really wanted was for Jesse to abandon whatever he was doing in the kitchenette and come join you and Hanzo on the couch, but you would settle for one boyfriend and a dragon.
In your lap, Raijin squeaked and twisted around to also stick his tongue out at his master, his little ears stuck lopsided from being pressed against your leg. He held such joy in mimicking your actions that you didn’t have the heart to stop him, even if he himself was turning into a miniature brat. Perhaps the antics Rai would get up to would remind Han of you while he was away, and that thought made you proud.
Hanzo merely smiled, shaking his head at the little dragon. “They used to be such dignified beasts before you, Hachi,” he murmured, watching as his spirit beast wriggled around in your lap to expose his belly, keening softly for your attention, the fur of his mane sticking up in so many directions from being manipulated by your fingers. “Now I wonder if they would be capable of hurting a fly.”
“Aww, they’re still scary! Aren’t you leanbh ?” you asked, picking Raijin up by his armpits and holding him out in front of you. “Show me those big scary teeth.”
Raijin curled back his muzzle, exposing his sharp, tiny teeth in a playful growl. For added drama, he brought his claws up and swiped lazily at the air, which garnered a short laugh from his master. The sound vibrated out from his chest, making you smile. Hanzo’s laughter was rare, even if you were dating, and the sound of it never failed to give you some form of butterflies. Today, it was a reminder that you were here, that you were safe. It took your mind off of the things you were troubled over, off the thumbdrive you’d yet to look through, off the young woman who’d given it to you, off the plot of the last mission. The one thing it couldn’t get it off of was the fact that Han wasn’t going to be around for much longer.
As much an active agent as you were yourself, Hanzo wasn’t immune to being called away from time to time, and neither was Jesse. It was becoming rare when you three were all at home at the same time, with at least one of you being shipped off to some remote corner of the world every other week. Right now, it was all about appearances, assuring the world that Overwach was still capable of doing what it had before, but, eventually, it would be more dangerous than that. So, you were learning to cherish the quiet moments like this.
“Hey now, those are some mighty sad eyes you’ve got there, sugar,” Jesse murmured, startling you back to the world with a gentle hand on the back of your neck. You hadn’t even noticed him coming over and collapsing down beside you, sandwiching you between your partners, too lost in thought. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”
You gently set Raijin down in your lap, letting the little dragon curl up against your stomach while you leaned over, resting your head against Jesse’s chest, wishing this moment didn’t have to end.
As easily as breathing, Jesse and Hanzo moved around you, sensing the melancholy. Jesse pulled you against him, arms wrapping gently around you in his warm embrace. The familiar weight of his arms on your shoulders was calming, as was the feeling of Hanzo’s fingers brushing through your hair. It surprised you sometimes how entirely they could engulf you like this, how easily they could brush away any feelings of loneliness in you, any sense of jealousy for one of them. You compared yourself to both of them constantly, it was true, and you would admit sometimes you became jealous of the relationship they shared with each other, but somehow they always managed to turn around and make you feel so loved that you forgot all of that.
“I’m thinking about how unfair this all is,” you murmured, closing your eyes and surrendering yourself to the comfortable void created by the both of them. With Jesse’s warm, sturdy chest at your back and Hanzo’s gentle reminders that he was there as well, it was easy to feel lost in the safest void in existence. “It feels like just when one of you gets back, the other has to leave.”
Jesse chuckled, the hearty sound reverberating through his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You got spoiled over the past few months, didn’t you, princess?” he asked teasingly, letting you slip a hand into his much larger one, your tiny fingers slotting perfectly between his. “I promise it ain’t always gonna be like this. The roster is large enough that we aren’t gonna always be gone. Maybe one day they’ll send you as our medic.”
You smiled and shook your head. “Well, then you’d have to listen to me, and we both know you don’t take orders from tiny winged women, Jess.”
You felt the smirk that spread across his lips before he shifted, lifting an arm to wrap it around you, holding you lightly. “Despite how bossy you get,” he teased, leaning his head down so that his breath tickled your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Harder this, and deeper that, and hardly ever a please. It gets ‘specially worse when you start to call me Da-”
Your cheeks began to heat up and you turned to quickly press your hands against his face to shut him up, wings sticking straight up from your back, almost smacking Hanzo in the face. “Jesus, Jess,” you breathed, rolling your eyes at him through the smile that stuck to your lips.
Laughter bubbled up beneath your fingers, followed quickly by the swipe of his tongue against the skin, making you withdraw your hands in disgust. “Resortin’ to blasphemy, darlin’?” he asked, his smile all too confident and smug.
“It’s not blasphemy if it’s not my god,” you shot back, wiping your hands off on his shirt.
He leaned forward, his voice low. “With how often you scream his name, anyone could have been fooled.”
As you stuttered through a retort, your wings were pressed gently against your back as Hanzo shifted, chuckling and shaking his head. “Jesse, stop teasing her. We were having such a wonderful time until you came along.”
Sticking your tongue out, you wriggled free of Jesse’s grip and shoved at his shoulder, knocking him on his side. “You sit on the other side of the couch! To horny jail with you!”
Jesse laughed, letting you push him over onto the other side until he could rest his elbow against the arm rest. From there, he pouted, watching you cuddle up against your other boyfriend, wings twitching happily. “Aw, come on, baby.”
You looked around, mimicking a search for the source of his words. “Oh, sorry, did I just hear the whisper of a voice? It’s hard to hear horny jail inmates. Did you hear anything, Han?”
Hanzo chuckled, rubbing your arm. “No, I don’t think I did.”
“Oh, so now you’re in on it, Hannybear?” He chuckled, a grin poking through that adorable puppy-like pout of his. “You both gonna pretend I’m not here?”
You gasped softly, sitting up and gently patting Hanzo’s chest. “You know, now that Jesse’s not here, we can finally watch that movie we’ve been wanting to, Han!” you said, grinning devilishly. Jesse hated rom-coms, you loved them, and Hanzo didn’t really mind watching them with you, though you were sure he secretly enjoyed them.
“Which one? Valentine’s Day or About Time ?” Hanzo asked, smiling as Jesse let out a soft groan.
“Hmm, how about both? You don’t leave until Friday, right? We’ll have plenty of time to watch them tonight!” You gave him those puppy eyes that you knew he had a hard time resisting, and smiled brightly when he rolled his eyes and nodded.
“Just as long as you’re in bed by midnight, Hachi. I know you have a meeting with the Commander tomorrow morning and I don’t want you to be late for that.” His smile softened and he reached forward, gently caressing your cheek. In that moment, you were suddenly struck with the warm happiness that rolled off him in waves.
The feeling made your heart flutter and your own smile soften as you reached up, resting your hand over his and lacing your fingers together. His hand was warm and reassuring on your cheek, a welcome, comforting weighted reminder of his affection. Sometimes it amazed you how gentle he could be, you’d seen his cruel, indifferent side, watched as he snapped and snarled at teammates for stepping out of line. But the moment he laid eyes on you, he melted, all smiles and soft touches where before there had been - metaphorical - bared teeth and claws. It was like he became an entirely different person.
Gratitude and warmth filling your chest, you leaned forward, bunting your forehead against his as the unspoken thoughts flowed between you. “Okay,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose before rubbing yours against his, giggling softly. “Now, you sit tight, I’m going to make the popcorn.”
When you came back with the popcorn, fresh and hot in the bowl, you found Jesse had moved back across the couch, taking up the position you had recently been in. He shot you a cheeky grin when you raised an eyebrow, gesturing for you to set the popcorn down on the coffee table.
“I’ve been bailed out,” he said triumphantly, scooting over a bit before he dragged you back down to the couch with one hand, unleashing a volley of light kisses on your face as he wrapped his arms around you.
You laughed and scrunched up your face, holding your breath until he was finished and you could breathe again. Peeking up through one opened eye, you took in his smile, tracing the little crinkled lines around his eyes with your gaze. “I can see that! Are you going to stay and watch the movies with us?”
He sighed, looking down into your hopeful eyes, his smile unwavering. “Only for you, sweetpea. But you better not fall asleep this time. You always fall asleep during movies.”
“I’ll try,” you said, kissing his cheek before you pulled back to settle between them, lovingly curled up against each of their sides. Jesse’s arm reached over your shoulders, his fingers running through Hanzo’s hair while his other hand rested in one of yours. You fell asleep halfway through the second movie, wings tucked neatly against your back, completely content and surrounded by your partners. You swore you could hear Jesse’s chuckle and a soft, “Told you,” as you drifted off.
Notes:
Translations
* leanbh - baby
Chapter 34: To Prick And Sting
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
You were getting worse. The headaches, the whispers, the anger, it was all getting worse despite the treatment. But you’d gotten used to it by now, learned how to hide it better. You prayed no one knew. You didn’t want to be weighed down by the drugs the doc wanted you to take.
Standing in the bathroom, you leaned over the sink, looking into Morrigan’s eyes through the mirror, the boiling rage coursing through your veins only slightly mollified by the drugs you had taken just ten minutes before. Morrigan stared right back at you, eyes as dark and cruel as you remembered them being the first time you peered back into those muddled honey pits. She looked ragged, bruises and cuts littered her skin, her hair looked like someone had let a rabid squirrel loose on it.
“What happened to you?” you whispered, reaching up to cup your own cheek, not feeling any of the bruises you watched Morrigan’s fingers trail over.
The woman in the mirror was silent, matching you step for step as you leaned forward to better examine her up close.
“Who did this to you?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from the mottled skin of her neck to look back up into her eyes, no, your eyes. Your own reflection was staring back at you, brows furrowed in concern.
“ Máthair ,” the word whispered in your ear made your skin stand on end and your heart jump into your throat as you whirled around, knocking a few stray bottles of product off the bathroom sink. There was no one behind you, only the white tiled wall of your shower. Morrigan was gone.
You heard the door to your apartment open and you quickly hurried to scoop the bottles up, your hands shaking. Anger still roiled in your veins, quiet and waiting. “Athena,” you whispered, hoping she would know enough to whisper her own response. “Who is it?”
“It’s Commander Morrison,” she whispered back, her answer making you jump and drop a few bottles onto the sink counter.
“Shit!”
“Miss Marsh?” Jack called, his boots thumping on the hardwood of your living room as he stepped closer to the bedroom door. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah! Just-Just doing a bit of cleaning!” you called back, already kicking yourself. You should have been in his office an hour ago, and yet here you were, talking to your reflection and poorly managing your emotions. “I’ll-I’ll be right out.”
The commander was not happy with you, that was a given, but there was a worry hiding behind the sternness of those cornflower blue eyes. For a moment, the man standing before you wasn’t the old, hard-ass commander, but a young, boy-scout of a soldier. Golden hair caught the lights shining down on him, a twinkle of a smile shone in a pair of eyes filled with mirth, scars were replaced with slightly flushed skin, evidence of being out in the sun for too long. You blinked and the illusion fell away, revealing the old soldier who stood before you, battered and scarred by years of war. The only thing that stayed the same was the familiar look of regret in his eyes when he looked at you. That look he haunted you with daily.
“Briallen?” he asked softly, the frown deepening, but not in anger.
“I’m okay,” you insisted, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest. The vision of young Jack left you with goosebumps and you wondered where the image had come from. You’d personally never seen him looking at you so softly, had never truly seen him smile like that. How old had he been? How old had Morrigan been? Why couldn’t you remember any of it?
Your wings quivered behind you and you bade them be still, turning away from the Commander to go get a glass of water. “Just tell me what my punishment is.”
Jack’s scowl burned into the back of your head as you reached into the cupboard and pulled out a cup, gripping it so tightly it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter. “I’m worried about you, kid.”
You froze, a wave of anger washing over you, making your skin tingle and your eyes burn. ‘ Deep breaths Briallen, deep breaths. ’ Despite the control you tried to take over yourself, the anger boiled up into your throat, scorching your words as you spoke. “Don’t call me kid.” The words tasted bitter and felt like acid on your tongue, making your head reel; that wasn’t your voice.
Squeezing your eyes closed, you took a few deep breaths, focusing on not shattering the cup in your grasp and trying to ignore the soft whispers in your head. You weren’t about to let yourself fall prey to this, to her . This was your life, not hers anymore, and she couldn’t take that from you.
Jack sighed, his heavy footfalls echoing in your ears as he came up to lean against the kitchenette counter. “Talk to me, Briallen.”
You grit your teeth, still fighting against the anger pounding in your head. “I have nothing to say. If you’re trying to make me feel guilty for saving that little girl, it won’t work,” you snapped, taking the cup to the sink to fill it up with water. “I did my fucking job, Jack, and I did it well. No casualties, remember?”
“You could have died,” he pointed out, frowning. All the frustration had left him, all that remained in those blue pools was sadness, and it pissed you off. What the hell could he be so sad about? Was he pitying you? You weren’t something that needed to be pitied.
“And so what if I did?” You turned to glare at him, Morrigan pushing at the edges of your consciousness, begging you to snap. “If I had died, I would have died doing one hell of a job, I would have died knowing I’d saved so many lives!”
Jack’s eyes narrowed and he stood straight up, fixing you with a look. “And would that make up for it? Is that what you’re trying to do, Briallen? Are you trying to make up for the things Morrigan did?”
In a second, your anger melted and you just gaped at him, dumbstruck. You weren’t trying to do that, were you? No, you were just trying to do your job the best you could, to prove that you could, to save lives because it was the greatest thing you could do with your life. Because it was the opposite of what Morrigan had done.
Quietly, you set your cup down and looked down at your hands; they were shaking with residual rage. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, looking back up to meet his gaze. “Morrigan did… So many terrible things, and I can’t even remember a fraction of them. If I can save those lives…”
“It won’t give back the ones that were taken, Briallen,” Jack said softly, shaking his head. His voice was gentle, as if he had some inkling of the horrible thought process, of the struggle of living with this burden. Maybe he did, he had, after all, fought so much for Overwatch. Maybe he regretted some of the things he did.
But he didn’t know your burden, and he had no right to comment on it.
You frowned and took a drink, hoping to banish the headache you could feel coming on. “I know,” you said, looking away from him and over to the hamper where you’d discarded your soot-covered body suit the day before. You remembered the terrified look in Lizzie’s eyes when you’d stepped into the room, how tightly she’d clung to you, her only chance at being saved, and all the people you’d helped that day, all the families that would continue to see loved ones everyday because you went that extra mile to save their lives. “But I’m still saving those lives, Jack, and that makes me an infinitely better person than Morrigan was. I won’t apologise for what I’ve done, for the people I’ve saved, but I know you have to make an example of agents who don’t listen. So, go ahead, what’s my punishment? Where are you sending me?”
Jack sighed, eyeing you for a moment before he nodded. “Gibraltar. The base there hasn’t been used in a while and we need to reestablish ourselves there. Reinhardt and Jesse will be going with you, along with a handful of low-level agents. You’re there purely as a medic, Reinhardt has been given orders to keep you on the bench until further notice.”
You nodded, taking another drink to drown your protests. You’d figured you were going to be benched, it was one of the only logical punishments. “I’ve seen pictures of the Gibraltar base, kind of cold, isn’t it?”
“Only during the winter. You’ll be fine,” Jack said, running a hand through his hair. “Just make sure to pack some warm jackets. There’s one more thing, Briallen.”
The glass clinked softly against the granite as you set it down, raising an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”
“You’ve got to agree to an interview.”
The soft moonlight played against Hanzo’s sleeping features, caressing the angles of his face, cutting them sharp with shadows and the comforting darkness of night. In sleep, he looked so much more peaceful than he did during the day, the little crinkles around his eyes smoothed out and the edges of his lips turned up instead of down. The soft rhythm of his breath against your fingers was calming, soothing your worries as you soaked in the moment, trying to draw out every second for as long as you could. In only a few hours, he’d be on a plane to Paris, leaving you and Jesse behind. It would be another few days until you left for Gibraltar for who knows how long, whereas Hanzo would only be in Paris for about a week. You had no idea when you were going to see him again.
You reached up, gently brushing your fingers against his cheek, tracing that line between the light and the shadows, watching the small smile split his lips, the way his eyes flickered behind his eyelids. You frowned as he shifted, his brows furrowing as he let out a breath and reached up to gently grasp your wrist.
“ Chōshi wa dō ?” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm, his skin warm from the sleep he’d been dragged from. His thumb dragged across the pulse point on your wrist, his dark eyes peeking up at you from beneath sleep-heavy hoods.
You shook your head, shushing him quietly as you brushed your thumb against his lips. “Go back to sleep, a mhuirnín ,” you whispered, sighing. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
His gaze searched yours for a moment, flicking between your eyes before they closed, and he moved closer to you. “What time is it?”
The communicare on your wrist glowed softly when you lifted it to your face. “Five. You really should go back to sleep, Han, your flight is scheduled for nine.”
“I can sleep on the plane,” he said, shaking his head as he let go of your wrist, his fingers winding into your hair. “Come here.”
With a soft, relenting sigh, you wiggled closer, pressing yourself against his chest. Sensing your movement, Jesse shifted in his sleep, closing the distance your wiggling had created. It was a little claustrophobic, but it was nice, and the last time you’d be squished like this in a while, so you closed your eyes and relished in it.
Hanzo chuckled, his pulse jumping with the sound beneath your fingers. “Even in his sleep, Jesse pines for you.” He combed his fingers through your hair, his breath dancing across the top of your head. “I cannot think of anyone I’d trust more to keep you safe.”
You snorted, tracing the coloured lines over his collar bone. “I can keep myself safe, thanks. Jesse’s just there to take my spot on the roster. I’m being demoted to medic.”
“As you should be. You need to take a break from being in the line of fire, Hachi. It is not good for the mind to be under such stress so often.”
“You two do it,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his chest, feeling his pulse in your palm.
“Because we don’t have a choice. You have the ability to step back for a time, which you do not take enough advantage of, especially with your condition.” When you did not respond, he was quiet, save for a soft hum that vibrated through his chest. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
You bit your lip, pressing your forehead against his chest as if that could hide the thoughts.
“Hachi,” Hanzo’s voice was stern, despite the breathy whisper it came out in.
“No, he doesn’t. I’ve been on the medication, I’m getting better, I-”
“Need to keep both of your partners in the loop, especially since I will not be there if you have another episode. You need to open up to him a bit more, I can promise he will not think badly of you. Did I?”
“Well, no, but you’re different… I feel like you knew how fucked up I was when we went into this. Jesse… It’s not the same,” you admitted, sighing. “Jesse wouldn’t understand.”
“He would. Don’t forget, Jesse has had a difficult past just like the two of us. It might not be as similar as ours is, but he understands. He also knows who you were better than I do, he knows what memories you have floating around in that beautiful mind of yours.” He kissed the top of your head, making you chuckle. “Talk to him, Hachi, for me.”
You pouted, rolling your eyes. “Okay… Can we go back to sleep now?”
He laughed softly, smoothing down your hair. “Of course, Hachi. Sleep well, love.”
Notes:
Translations
* Máthair - mother
* Chōshi wa dō ( 調子はどう)- how are you
* a mhuirnín - my dear
Chapter 35: What Honey is Expected?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Alright, Briallen, remember what we briefed you on,” Jack said, handing you a bottle of water -sugar water, by the taste of it. He was wearing his visor and mask, so you couldn’t see much of his face, but you could hear the slight smile in his voice. “No-”
“No talking about anything pertaining to Overwatch protocols, nothing about my past care in Talon or Organic Omnics, nothing I’m uncomfortable with, and definitely nothing about how I got my mutations. Yeah, I got it, thanks dad ,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you took a small sip of the water through a slight smile. As much as you teased him about it, it was kind of nice having someone looking out for you like he did. This was as close as you would get to having a father figure, and it was sweet in its own way that he voluntarily put himself in the position to become that for you, even if he wasn’t doing it consciously.
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t you start giving me sass, young lady . You’re too old for that.” He reached forward, setting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Remember to relax, these people can sense fear and discomfort and will use that against you. If you need it, Athena is here as well, occupying an omnic mainframe, so you can communicate silently with her. We are both here for you, Briallen.”
You reached up and patted his hand. “Thanks, Jack,” you murmured, smiling up at him. “I appreciate it.”
“Up next, we have a very special guest today that is sure to leave you a buzz with excitement. She’s the newest face on the Overwatch scene, bringing a new meaning to stinging like a bee, it’s our darling Queen Bee, Monarch!”
“That’s your cue, Bri. Good luck,” Jack said, giving you a gentle push towards the stage.
You took a big gulp of the sugar water he’d handed you, trying to steel your sudden nerves as you were waved onto the stage by the grinning newscaster. A roar of applause deafened you as you stepped into the camera’s view, and you fought to keep a smile as you were assaulted by the noise and the blinding lights that shone down on you. ‘ You can do this, Briallen. Just smile and nod and remember what Jack told you.’ “ Athena? ”
“ I’m here, Briallen, don’t worry, ” she replied, her voice soothing some of your nerves. “ Remember to breathe. ”
Your smile was fixed in place as you took a seat in the rather comfortable armchair that sat across from the woman already on the stage, wings pressed tightly against your back for comfort. Curiously, you noted you were positioned so your scars were prominently displayed to the audience and the camera. Suddenly self-conscious, you pressed your hand over the scars on your arm, even though they were hidden beneath the fabric of your suit. You had wanted to cover up some of the scarring on your face with makeup, but production wouldn’t let you, and now you knew why. You were a spectacle now, and every bit of you had to be on show.
“Thank you so much for having me, Harmony,” you said, blinking away the thoughts of running back off the stage and escaping. They weren’t equipped to catch you if you flew, you could easily avoid their grasping hands, and you could take any guards by the door. But then, Jack would be disappointed.
Harmony practically beamed back at you, shuffling some papers in her lap. “Oh, no, it’s our honour! When we heard the Monarch wanted to do an interview, well, we were stunned to say the least! Tell me, you’ve been so adamant about not doing any one-on-one interviews, what made you change your mind?”
‘ A hard-ass commander who wants to put me through hell. ’ “Well, to be honest, I was just trying to give myself some time to really settle into my position before I made myself a public figure like this. Job security is very important in my line of work,” you said, faking a chuckle as you dropped your hand into the other, twisting your fingers in your lap. Already this was beginning to make you feel uncomfortable.
Harmony laughed heartily. “That it is, though I think they would be a little hard-pressed to find anyone who could easily take up your position! I mean, you’ve got super strength, you can fly, and you’re medically trained? What more could they ask for?”
You shifted your legs, trying to find a more comfortable position that made you look more relaxed than you were. “Oh, plenty. They could easily replace me. I’d be the one hard-pressed to find a job afterward, I mean how many mutants out there do you see flipping burgers or working in office buildings?” Your smile faded just a slight bit, but you managed to hide it behind an uneasy chuckle. “I’m really very lucky that Overwach decided to take me in at all.”
“I suppose we can all count ourselves lucky that they did,” Harmony mused, leaning back in her seat. “After all, you have already saved so many lives in the few months you’ve been on the scene. We are all so thankful for your service, Monarch.” She started clapping a little and soon the entire audience had joined in.
After a slightly awkward amount of time, the noise finally died down, and she smiled over at you, picking up her papers again. “So, I’m sure you know the public has so many questions for you, and we only have a half an hour to fill, so why don’t we get started? First off, I think the biggest question right now is about you in general, Monarch. It almost seems like you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, no one has any records of you anywhere. Where did you come from?”
You froze for a second, having expected this question, but still having wanted to avoid it entirely. “I, um, well I don’t know, exactly,” you lied, trying to relax your body. “Almost ten years ago, I woke up in a hospital with no memory of who I was. The nurses were able to tell me that I was from Ireland based on my, at the time, prominent accent, and that I had been involved in a bad crash, but that was all they knew. I joined Overwatch a few years later when Winston put out an advertisement for an assistant.”
Harmony nodded, her face a perfect depiction of sympathy, but you could see her eyes lacked any semblance of the emotion. “Did your mutations affect how you were treated at the hospital?”
“ Briallen, tread carefully, ” Athena warned. “ Mentioning your lack of mutations at that time could lead to a line of questioning we do not want to proceed with. ”
“ Do you want me to lie? ” you asked, glancing out to the crowd to see a slim Omnic staring directly at you. She nodded her head ever so slightly, lilac metal glinting in the stage lights, and folded her hands in her lap.
Taking a breath, you looked back at Harmony, trying to cover up your momentary falter. “Yes, it did, unfortunately. The nurses, of course, were confused by my genetic mutations, which made it difficult for them to determine how to help me. They also had me placed in a room away from most of the other patients. Only specific nurses came to check on me, too, I suspect they were the ones who felt the least discomforted by my presence.”
The crowd sighed sadly, and Harmony nodded, reaching forward to lay her hand sympathetically over yours. “I bet it was tough being treated like that.”
You nodded a bit, offering a weak smile.
“And your scars, did they come from the accident?” she asked, sitting back in her seat and gesturing to your face.
You winced instinctively, reaching up to brush your fingers against them. This, you refused to lie about. “No,” you said, letting your hand drop. “No, these didn’t come from that accident. I got these on my first mission, before I was ever Monarch. One of my friends had been kidnapped by Arachnid, and I did my best to save him, but I failed.” You took a deep breath, making sure you retained a smile, however small. “I got these scars while he was… I was cocky and overestimated myself, I thought I could take on the world, but the truth was I wasn’t ready, and a good friend of mine paid dearly for that. These scars serve as a reminder for me, they remind me to always put my best effort into saving the lives of others and to never let a life go for granted.” Your smile turned soft as you looked down at your lap. “It’s because of Gibson that I’m a hero today. He pushed me to be better, helped me to get back on my feet when I arrived in England, and he believed in me. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for him.”
“Do you think Gibson would be proud of you?”
You chuckled, feeling a few tears pricking your eyes. Despite his death having been months ago, it still hurt to think about. “Yes, I think he would,” you said, nodding. “Though, I think he would be disappointed that I wear kevlar and not spandex.”
Harmony chuckled a bit, the first semi-honest emotion you’d seen from her all evening. Her smile was a bit softer, more human. “I’m sure it must have been hard to lose him. It’s always hard to lose a lover.”
You nearly choked on your breath, your brows pulling together in confusion as you shook your head. “N-No, I mean, of course it hurt to lose him, he was my best friend, but we weren’t lovers. We were just friends.”
She eyed you for a second before she nodded. “I see. Well, I’m sure that made plenty of the boys on base happy.”
She was probing into your love life, of course she was. You’d seen old interviews for both male and female agents and noticed the questions offered to each of them varied wildly. The men were always asked actual questions about their job whereas the women were always asked about costumes, love lives, how they stay so skinny and small. You’d hoped after a few years, this would change, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Clearing your throat, you tried to reign in your emotions, still reeling from the whiplash of being questioned about Gibson’s death to this. You were probably in for a cry session after all this was done.
“ Briallen, this is a dangerous line of questioning for you. I know how you wanted to keep your love life out of the spotlight. Be careful how you tread, ” Athena warned, sending you an image of a person frowning.
“I’m very happy with my relationships with my teammates,” you said dismissively, attempting a serene smile. You weren’t going to budge on this, not a single inch. “They’re all very sweet to me and they always have my back. I couldn’t ask for better.”
“Lovers?” Harmony prompted, trying to pry the answer out of you.
“My friends are my teammates, actually! Or should I say my teammates are my friends, I am very lucky to work with such amazing people, and even luckier that they like me as much as I adore them. Over time, we became a rather close-knit group, we karaoke, go to lunch, and do all sorts of stuff together. It really helps build a bond that helps when on the field.”
“Er, right. I’m sure, though, in such close quarters with some of those rather handsome young men, some bonds have become stronger than others?” Harmony was floundering now, really fishing for an answer. Too bad she wasn’t going to get it.
“Oh, of course! Some people just get along better than others! For instance, Lucio and I hit it right off the bat when I first met him, but it took me some time to warm up to some of the other members.” You fixed her with a look. “If we’re done trying to probe into my love life, I’d like to move on.”
She hesitated, her smile faltering. “Y-Yes, of course. So, you mentioned your costume was made of kevlar instead of spandex, what was the reason for that?”
“Ugh, that snake! Deireadh dona léi!” you groaned, flexing your wings behind you to stretch the muscles. It wasn’t good to have them locked in place for so long and you’d been on that stage for nearly an hour, your muscles locked tightly in place to keep them steady. “This is why I didn’t want to do this, Jack!” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, glaring.
Jack chuckled, reaching out to push your finger out of his face. “But you did such a great job, Briallen! You stood up for yourself without making an ass of yourself.” He ruffled your hair, laughing when you swatted his hand away. “I’m proud of you.”
“You should be more proud I didn’t leap at her,” you grumbled, reaching for the bottle of sugar water resting on your vanity backstage.
He chuckled again. “Well, then I’m proud of you for that too. You did a great job, Briallen, I mean it.”
Your scowl melted into a satisfied smile as you took a drink, looking at him through the mirror. “Yeah, maybe I did.”
He came up behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Now the public has seen you in another light, they know more about you, and they’ll feel more comfortable with you. You’ve got to present yourself as just another person for them to really, truly, accept you as a hero.”
“Like I’ll need that while I’m in Gibraltar, I won’t see the light of day! Winston’s already asked me to help go through the massive paper database he’s got stored there. I think he trusts me more than the grunts because I used to be his assistant. Not that I’ll get it done faster than the next person,” you chuckled, looking down at the vanity counter to set your bottle back down. When you looked back up, your gaze fell on a pair of emerald eyes gazing at you through the vent near the ceiling.
“Hey!” You whirled around, lunging for the vent. The metal bent under your grasp and clattered to the floor when you ripped it away. The only thing you could catch a glimpse of was the tip of a retreating tail, the sounds of claws scraping against the metal echoed through the room.
‘ Mutant! ’
A wave of smell washed over you, similar to that of the mutants from before, but much stronger, and you ached to chase it. You were small enough to fit in the vent, but your eyes weren’t meant for groping around in the dark. Dropping to the ground, you rushed out of the room, ignoring Jack behind you. You rounded on the security guard outside of your room, wings buzzing anxiously behind you. “Where does that vent lead?”
The guard looked down at you in surprise, hand hovering over his gun. “What?”
“You heard me. The vent in my dressing room, where. Does. It. Lead?” you asked again, hovering in the air to meet his gaze at eye level.
“Uh, it leads to the main vent system. Why? What’s going on?”
You dropped back down to the ground, already rushing for the fire alarm. “There’s a mutant in your building, and a dangerous one by the smell of it. We need to evacuate the building.”
Before you could reach the fire alarm, a scream rang out from the main stage, which quickly set off a chain reaction in the audience.
“ Athena, what’s going on? ” you asked, already racing towards the set you just escaped.
‘ Something’s just dropped from the ventilation system, right on top of the newest guest. It’s some kind of mutant, a cat-hybrid-thing! Oh, oh no, I do not think the guest is moving, ’ Athena sounded sick to her stomach, if an omnipresent AI could even be that, and her voice wavered in your head.
“ Start evacuating the audience as best as you can, flash your credentials, do whatever you need to, but get them out of there!” You took off into the air, wings carrying you further and faster than your feet could have, and rounded the corner onto the stage. Below you, a black feline-esque humanoid stood hunched over, hands soaked in blood as it slowly stalked towards Harmony. In the chair you’d been sitting in no less than ten minutes before sat a crumpled body, covered in scarlet. You didn’t look at it too long.
Harmony’s eyes lit up when she saw you, though, in her fear and shock, she said nothing, only whimpered and took another step back as the creature took a step forward.
“Hey! Buzz off!” you called, hurtling yourself towards the mutant. You almost paused to smack yourself for the awful pun, but you didn’t have time as your tiny body crashed into the mutant, sending you both careening towards the edge of the set. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
The mutant laughed, easily rolling over and pinning you to the ground, clawed fingers digging into your wrists.. “Oh, how fun it is to play with you again, little bug,” he purred, leaning down to sniff at your face. Fur brushed against your nose, tickling it and almost making you sneeze. “You smell different, less fun, more like them .”
“And you smell like a dumpster,” you grunted, reeling back and smacking your forehead into the mutant’s nose.
He howled in pain, letting go of you to grasp at his muzzle, allowing you enough time to wriggle your way out and fly up, out of his reach. “That was a nasty trick, little bug,” he growled, what was a twisted smile now replaced with a dangerous snarl. “You will pay for that.”
Without a gun at your side, you would have to keep him busy until backup could get here. Your mind raced, trying to come up with ways to keep him distracted. On your left, Athena worked alongside security to escort the audience out, having to grab a few by their arms as they’d stopped to try to film the event. Behind you, Harmony cowered behind her desk and you could smell her fear clearly, evidently that deodorant wasn’t powerful enough to withstand a mutant attack.
“I’d like to see you try to catch me,” you taunted, shifting in the air to divert the mutant’s attention away from the escaping crowd. ‘ Keep his attention, keep his attention, keep his attention! ’ You continued to dart around in front of him, keeping his eyes on you.
“Don’t tempt me, little bug. I may not be allowed to kill, but they can’t stop me from maiming as long as I bring you in!” he growled, crouching down, the muscles of his haunches coiling up. His tail thrashed back and forth as his ears pulled back. Then, he pounced.
Claws barely scraped your cheek as you darted out of the way, those green eyes locking on yours as his head twisted to snarl at you. Before he could sail too much past you, you reached out and grabbed him by the scruff, using his momentum to send him flying into the set wall. The plaster cracked upon impact and he fell to the ground, dazed.
In the corner of your eye, you spotted Jack and the small group of agents that had accompanied you both, each of them fully equipped with their weapons and equipment. They hurried on to the set and surrounded the mutant, guns pointed at him to keep him in place.
“Stand down!” one of the agents said, priming the blaster as the mutant groaned and moved to stand. Another agent came up behind with a pair of cuffs, yanking the mutant’s hands behind its back.
“Monarch, we’ve got this,” Jack said, nodding to you and then gesturing to Harmony’s hiding spot with his shoulder.
Taking the hint, you floated down and made your way over, moving slowly so as not to startle her. “Harmony, are you alright?” you asked quietly, gently reaching forward to help her up.
She clung to you, her eyes wide with fear and her heart beating erratically as she tried to steady her breathing. “Y-Yes, yes I’m fine, all thanks to you.” She turned big doe eyes on you and immediately burst into tears, enveloping you in a crushing hug as she sobbed. “Thank you so much.”
You awkwardly pat her back, unable to tear your gaze away from the mutant as he was hauled up and taken behind the set. ‘ What did he mean by bring me in? Is Aderyn hunting for me? ’ You shared a worried look with Jack, who just sighed and nodded slightly at you before turning to keep an eye on the situation.
Notes:
Translations
* Deireadh dona léi - Bad end upon her
Chapter 36: Mix'd With Sugar'd Words
Chapter Text
Of all the years he’d spent training rookies, of all the agents he had worked with throughout his life, both Overwatch and SEP, Jack Morrison had never felt this kind of personal responsibility towards a single one. From the moment she’d stepped foot into the London HQ, from the moment she’d accepted the job and reinserted herself into his life, Jack had felt this innate need to protect her. Of course, it could have had something to do with his failure to do so when she was a child, a need to make up for his past failures, but Jack liked to think he took Briallen under his wing for less selfish reasons.
She reminded him of himself at that age. Cocky, witty, selfless, eager to please, and far too stubborn for her own good. It was no wonder the media had tried to depict her as his daughter, and he must admit his fondness for her did nothing to help deny those rumors. Sometimes, when she flashed an enigmatic smile, or laughed a certain way, even he had doubts; she was young enough to be his daughter, after all, if he had ever had one. She didn’t help by pulling stupid stunts like this. Charging into a fight against an unknown enemy without a weapon and spouting off some stupid one-liner? That definitely sounded like something he would have done in his early SEP days.
But, then, he’d remember, there was no possible way she was his daughter; he was gay. He’d never even looked at a woman that way, let alone gone so far as to help one conceive a child. Her age further disproved this conspiracy; he would have been in his late twenties when she’d been born, too busy leading and molding Overwatch into what it was before the fall to have been in any sort of relationship.
Briallen Marsh was just a young woman who reminded him of who he used to be, before life had changed him. She brought out a nurturing side to him, one he had thought was gone for good, and, in turn, he hoped he was passing on important life lessons and providing a sturdy support system for her.
The thoughts reeling around in his head dissipated as the transport hit a bump, jostling him in his seat. He glanced to his right to see Briallen still lost in her own thoughts and he sighed, reaching over to lay a hand on her shoulder. “You okay, kid?” he asked, offering a small smile when she jolted and looked at him.
She dropped her hand from where she’d been resting it over her mouth, her lip was slightly swollen from how much she’d been chewing on it. She returned his smile, though her eyes betrayed her worry. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. But I’m not a kid, Jack.” Her voice further betrayed her, soft and lacking her usual conviction.
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I suppose you aren’t. You’re a reckless teenager who doesn’t think things through before she does them.”
She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out a bit, her smile becoming a little more genuine and there it was, a little more of the old Jack Morrison shining through her. “And who are you to say, my dad? I bet you were just as “bad” as I am when you were a teenager.”
“You’re right, I was. My early SEP days were filled with recklessness and snark, but the difference between you and I is that I grew out of it,” he teased, chuckling at her wide eyes and her gasp.
“Well, excuse me! At least I don’t have a stick up my ass,” she shot back, her smile growing brighter as she nudged his shoulder. “My teammates hang out with me because I’m likeable, not because I’m their commander.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I could have you suspended for that,” he warned, though his threat held no bite.
She stuck her tongue out again. “But you won’t, because you love me.”
“That is true,” he conceded with a smile, sitting back, keeping his eyes on her. “What was on your mind earlier?”
She sighed, her smile fading. “I… I guess I’m just worried about what that mutant said. About what both mutants have said. They both knew me, intimately by the sound of it. But I don’t remember any of it… And I think Aderyn might be after me.”
Jack cringed. He’d known this would end up happening sooner or later, he couldn’t keep her out of Aderyn’s sight as long as he had wanted to, not with the media showering her with attention. Briallen had been Aderyn’s greatest weapon, it would make sense that she’d want her back. “That is a possibility. Aderyn didn’t adore you, but you were her favourite.”
Briallen went quiet, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. It took him a second before he realised she was shaking.
Suddenly, a wave of concern and protectiveness crashed over him and he frowned, moving closer to place a hand on her arm, surprised when she leaned over to press her side against his. “Talk to me, kid,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The action came as naturally to him as it had when he’d done the same thing for Lena years ago, when she was just a cadet, grieving over her father.
“I-I don’t know,” Briallen whispered, shaking her head. “I… I don’t remember a single thing about her, but… Just the thought of Aderyn terrifies me. What did she do to me, Jack?”
‘ What have you done to her, Aderyn? ’ He sighed, gently rubbing her arm, quietly cursing himself for never having acted on his gut instinct to take her away from the doctor back when she was a child. “I wish I could say I know, but I don’t. All I can say is we won’t let her get to you. No one outside of your team and the high ranked agents knows you’re going to Gibraltar, you’ll be safe there.”
She nodded, taking a shaky breath and letting a bit more of her weight settle against him for a couple seconds before she sat up and dug through her jacket pocket. “I was given this a little while ago, at the explosion scene by a young woman I treated. I don’t know why she gave it to me, or what she was risking by doing so, but it’s evidence that Aderyn has had people tailing me for a while.”
Jack took the usb she held out to him, brows furrowed. “Do you remember what this woman looked like?”
She shook her head. “No, she wasn’t very memorable, and she disappeared into the crowd after she gave this to me. It’s filled with pictures of me - of Monarch - in the field, starting with my debut.”
‘ Her debut? Do we have a leak? No one should have known about that before it happened. ’ Jack’s frown deepened and he shook his head a bit, tucking the usb into his pocket. “Why didn’t you give me this sooner? We might have been able to do something about it.”
“I… I thought it might give me some answers… As to my past, you know? I didn’t realise the woman was handing me evidence of a secret admirer.” She rubbed at her face, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, I know I should have given it to you right away. But you can’t possibly know what this is like, Jack. I’m missing more than half my life, there are so many things I don’t remember, so many people who know me and hate me and I have no clue why… I’m tired of not knowing.” Her eyes were glued to the floor of the transport before they jumped up and met his, filled with a subdued anger that reminded him far too strongly of Aderyn’s. “Jack, I-”
“That’s not a conversation for right now,” he warned, shaking his head again.
She narrowed her eyes, sizing him up for a second, before the anger fizzled out and she let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Commander.”
For some reason, the switch from her playfully calling him “dad” to calling him by his title stung, and he sighed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked over at her. “I’m sorry, kid, I just… You’ll learn about everything when you’re ready.”
“I am ready,” she murmured, looking away from him and down at her knees as she pulled them up to her chest. “I’ve been ready.”
“You’re not. I know you think you are, but you aren’t. Give it some time, kid.” He smiled sadly and shook his head. “You’re too much like me, too stubborn, too impatient.”
She snorted. “You? Impatient? Yeah, nice try, Einstein. I’m not gonna fall for that one.”
He chuckled. “I’m serious. I may not be as impatient now, but I was very impatient back in my youth. I always wanted everything to happen as quickly as it could, but that’s not how the world works… What I’m trying to say is, while I may not understand exactly where you’re coming from, I understand some of what you’re feeling. You’re not alone, kid.”
A small smile cracked her lips as she nodded, hugging her knees a little tighter. “I get it. Thanks, Jack.”
There was a small crowd waiting for Briallen when the transport arrived back at HQ. It made Jack surprisingly happy to see how well she got along with the rest of the agents, to see how much her friends cared for her. He wasn’t too happy about the fact that she had started dating both McCree and Shimada; he intimately knew about Jesse’s history and antics, and he could only guess the kind of things Hanzo had gotten up to in his youth, but they made her happy, so he let it slide. He could practically hear Gabe’s good natured “Let the boy be, they’re all happy. Let it stay that way.”
His slight smile faded at that, a slight edge of pain latching on to his contentedness. He had loved Gabriel as a friend, perhaps even more than that at one point, and his betrayal still hurt to this day. Sometimes, the things Jesse did reminded Jack of Gabriel, that boy certainly had soaked up a few of Gabriel’s mannerisms; the way he would flick out his cigarettes, the slight tilt of his head when he caught sight of someone he knew and smiled at them, the way his shoulders shook when he laughed. Sometimes these things hurt, even if Jesse didn’t mean them too, and Jack tried his hardest not to let them get to him.
He watched as Jesse reached out a gentle hand, brushing back a few strands of Briallen’s hair, his voice soft as he checked in with her. Her wings twitched happily and she leaned into his side, laughing as Lena chatted animatedly at her, Lucio and Hana by her side. It was nice to see her able to relax so easily after what happened, good to see she had a support system outside of him and Angela. It would be important that she continued to strengthen those ties over time - the closer she was to her teammates, the easier things would be, and the less burden she’d be taking on by herself.
Having Jesse and Hanzo was also good for her in a more emotional sense. For all the grief Jack gave him, Jesse knew who Briallen had been and was willing to forget that in favour of learning - and loving - who she was now. To say Jesse was sweet on her was an understatement, he had gravitated to her from the moment he had seen her first back in August, and it wasn’t hard to see how he watched her every move adoringly. While Hanzo didn’t display it openly, Jack had noticed he watched Briallen a little more closely than he did Jesse, whether that had something to do with her episodes or her habit of not drinking enough, Jack couldn’t tell, but he knew she was well protected with both agents watching over her.
Knowing she was in good hands now that her friends had found her, Jack took a deep breath and turned away from them, heading towards his office. “Athena, I need Ana, Angela, and Reinhardt in my office as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Commander, of course. Director Baxter has been looking for you, he wishes to talk with you about what happened at the studio today.” Athena said, opening the elevator doors for him.
“Of course he does. Where is he?”
“Outside your office, Commander.”
Jack rolled his eyes, rubbing at his face. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly. Postpone alerting the others until he’s out of the vicinity. Also…”
“Yes?”
“Double check the security locks on any information pertaining to Organic Omnics,” he said, masking his concern. Briallen didn’t need to be reading anything about Aderyn right now. That could wait until she was more secure in herself. “No agents under level five should have any access to that information.”
“I will look into it, Commander.”
Chapter 37: His Sweet Disaster
Chapter Text
“You’ll be safe, right?” Jesse asked, reaching out to brush back a loose strand of Hanzo’s hair. For the next few minutes, he’d be finding any reason he could to touch his lover, to stretch out these last few moments with him before he was gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Of course, Hanzo would be fine, as would he and Briallen, but there was always an air of uncertainty when it came to missions like these.
Hanzo smiled, that rare, knowing smile of his, the one that told Jesse he knew exactly what was going on in his mind. He caught Jesse’s hand before it could finish it’s task, drawing it down so he could press a kiss to his knuckles. “Of course, Jesse, you know me. I’m not reckless like you or Briallen.”
Jesse couldn’t help but crack a small grin, cupping Hanzo’s jaw with his other hand. “She’s gonna be the death of me, y’know.”
The archer laughed softly and shook his head, leaning into the touch. “She is a handful. But she’s nothing you can’t handle. Be patient with her, she is going through something neither you nor I could imagine.”
Jesse sighed. “Has she talked to you? I can tell something is up, but she won’t say a word to me.” It was hard, knowing something was bothering her, but not being able to get her to talk about it. It had seemed, lately, that she’d almost been avoiding him.
“She will, in time. It’s not mine to tell you about.”
They both glanced over to where their partner was giggling, holding up both the massive dragons as they purred and whined, snaking their long bodies around her. Jesse couldn’t help but smile softly, he always loved hearing her laugh, it meant that, even for a moment, her mind was somewhere away from what had been plaguing her lately.
“You two will have plenty of time together in Gibraltar, I’m sure she will explain everything when she gets the chance. Just give her time, Jesse.” Hanzo said softly, giving his lover’s hand a squeeze. “Do you remember how long it took me to open up?”
Jesse chuckled, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “How could I forget? I nagged you for so long because I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t know how bad it was…”
“I was scared you’d reject me because of my past. She’s afraid of the same thing, just under different circumstances. Just be sure to give her the same amount of gentle patience and love that you gave me. She will come around,” the archer insisted, pulling away just slightly to face their lover as she approached. His dragons danced around her, winding between her legs and nosing at her hands as they looked for any last bits of affection they could get.
“Hachi,” he murmured, holding out an arm to pull her closer, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “You behave yourself, understand? Or there will be punishment awaiting you when you return.”
She giggled, scrunching her nose as she leaned into his chest, beating her wings gently against his arm. Her smile was bright as she turned it up to Jesse, meeting his gaze with a loving one of her own. “Me? Behave? When have I done anything but?”
Jesse smirked, playfully pinching her cheek. “I’d be serious if I were you, darlin’. His punishments are worse than mine.”
Briallen stuck out her tongue, batting his hand away. “Those were supposed to be punishments? I think you need to step up your game, old man.”
“Hachi,” Hanzo warned, his voice low though holding no bite. His smile was soft, content, but his eyes were sad. It was obvious that he was going to miss this, miss them. He shook his head and pulled them both closer to close the distance between them.
Jesse closed his eyes, letting himself be enveloped by the embrace, breathing in their combined scents. It was going to be hard without Hanzo, it always was. But he had confidence they’d make it through to the other side, no matter what.
Briallen had been quieter than usual for the week leading up to their departure. It was enough to make Jesse wonder if she was pulling away from him intentionally, if her feelings for him had faded and she was just acting civil while Hanzo was there - foolish though those thoughts were. Truth be told, Jesse had noticed how much closer she had been with Hanzo as of late, especially in relation to how close she was with him, and though he knew it was stupid, he found himself feeling hurt and a little jealous over it. It did make sense, though, how close she was with their partner; they had, after all, spent quite a few months together, and they shared something he’d probably never have in common with them - the same wish to make up for the past.
Jesse, though having done many things in the past he was not proud of, had no wish to change the course of history for himself. Sure, he ran into a consequence of his past actions from time to time, but he never viewed that as a need to change or make amends. He could see it in their eyes, though, that pain whenever the past came back to haunt them, the grief over the paths they’d taken, willingly or not, the need to make the world see them as something other than the culmination of their misguided choices. He could see how they found refuge in each other, a little hidden place together unburdened by the eyes of the world. Jesse had been Hanzo’s first oasis, and while he had tried so hard to be the same for Briallen, it seemed Hanzo had quickly stepped in to take that role. Jesse had been little more than a breath of fresh air compared to the sanctuary the archer had offered her. He wished he could be a sanctuary for her as well, but his own doubts seemed to make that an even harder goal to attain.
There was also the matter of her previous brainwashing. Only months ago, she’d been genetically programmed to kill Jesse on sight, and ever since then, even after having slept in the same bed for nearly five months now, she still seemed hesitant around him. Did any of that programming remain? Did it change the way she viewed him? He hoped not.
In any case, they would have all the time in the world to figure everything out together. Gibraltar was not a very large base, not like the one in Paris or HQ, and it was relatively peaceful there. With nothing to do but manage some reports and play nurse to some agents who would likely not see field action for quite a few months, it would be hard for them to avoid each other.
“Darlin’, you packed yet?” he asked, poking his head into the bedroom. It had been more than half an hour since he’d left her in there, thinking she’d be done in a few minutes. She only had toiletries left, she’d said. She wouldn’t be long.
She was standing beside the bed, holding an old framed photo in her hands. The look in her eyes was sad, almost pained, and Jesse could swear she was on the verge of tears. He watched her run her fingers across the glass, falling back to sit on the edge of the mattress, seeming not to have heard him. There was a tune she was humming, the same tune she’d had stuck in her head ever since she came back from that interview. It was pretty, sounded almost like a lullaby of sorts, but she didn’t know the words.
“Briallen?” his voice was soft as he stepped into the room, frowning. “Everything alright, doll?”
She heard him that time. All in one swift motion, she shot up from the bed, the picture frame slipping from her fingers to the floor where the glass cracked on impact. Her eyes were wide as she bent down, quickly scooping the frame back up and inspecting the damage. “Ohh, I didn’t mean to drop it, I swear, I was just- I saw this and I guess I got distracted.”
There was a soft wail in her voice that made it impossible for Jesse to just stand there and watch, so he stepped further in, slowly so as not to spook her again. He sat down next to her when she fell back onto the bed, cradling the picture in her lap. It was an old picture of Genji and Hanzo from when they were children. The broken glass spiderwebbed out, forming a crack between them that Jesse thought was all too ironic, but otherwise did not distort their faces.
They were quiet for a bit, Briallen gently running her fingers across the cracks in the glass, Jesse rubbing her back, careful not to brush against the base of her wings. He thought it best to give her some time to think before he pushed anything. Briallen could be difficult to figure out when she was upset, it seemed like she disappeared within herself and there wasn’t anything he could do to coax her out. Patience, that’s what Hanzo had said.
Eventually, she stopped caressing the glass and let out a soft sigh, her eyes locked on the photo. “Do you have any siblings, Jesse?” she asked quietly, brushing her hair away from her face, an impossible feat, really. Ever since she’d cut it short, it refused to stay in place, but Jesse had solutions.
He frowned, reaching around her to grab a barrette off the bedside cabinet to pin the rebellious hair back, his touch light. “No, I don’t. No family other than you, Han, and the rest of Overwatch.” His fingers found her chin and gently turned her face towards him so he could meet those chocolate-honey eyes. He was no mind reader, but it was easier to tell how she was feeling when she actually looked at him. “That got somethin’ to do with whatever’s been on your mind lately, sweetpea?”
She cringed, pulling her face away, which stung a little bit. “I… I don’t know who I am, Jesse… Where did I come from? Who was I? Who was my mother? My father? Did I have any siblings? Were there people who cared about me, who mourned my disappearance?” A few tears collected in her eyes and she groaned, almost slapping herself in the face with how quickly she raised a hand to her head. “I have so many memories that I can’t access. I can feel them there, Jesse, but every time I try to access them, I get this searing pain in my head…
“I envy you and Han, you know who you are, you can remember your past, you had a childhood no matter how broken and turbulent it might’ve been… The earliest memory I have is waking up in that hospital, alone. No family, no friends. No one to guide me.” She wiped at her cheeks, sniffling a bit. Her wings trembled against his arm. “I had a life… I had a fiance for gods’ sakes! Obviously I was happy at some point! And it was all ripped away from me.”
Jesse’s heart broke for her. He hadn’t realised how much of an impact not knowing her past had on her, she’d never really talked about it before. In his opinion, she’d been lucky to not know what Morrigan had done, the blood she’d spilt, she was better off not having to live with those nightmares. But after hearing that, he could see how it would be disturbing and upsetting to not know. “Darlin’, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, removing the picture frame from her lap to pull her closer. “I- I know it must be tough, not knowin’, and I’m sorry you have to live with that. I… I don’t know much, but I can tell you what I do know, if that helps.”
She sniffled, leaning against him and hiding her face in his chest. No words were spoken, she just gave a small nod to indicate that’s what she wanted.
“Okay, well, let’s start with the obvious, Morrigan was gorgeous, I mean, she was you after all, so it makes sense,” he said, smiling at the weak chuckle it got from her. He ran his fingers through her hair as he spoke, trying to soothe her. “The Commander certainly had good taste.”
Director Baxter was not, in fact, outside of Jack’s office. Instead, he was seated in one of the large dark leather chairs stationed in front of Jack’s desk with a cup of tea in his hands. Judging by the lingering scent of myrrh, Jack had a rather good idea of who exactly let the Director into his office and made a mental note to have a talk with her about letting random politicians in.
“Took you long enough,” Baxter said, not looking back to see who entered, he already knew.
“Director,” Jack grunted, stepping fully into his office and hanging his coat up. “Can I get you anything? A glass of whiskey, maybe?”
Baxter chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head. “I took you more for a bourbon man. No, thank you, Miss Amari provided me with a lovely cup of tea earlier.” His eyes followed Jack as he walked across the office to the liquor cabinet, burning a cold heat into the back of his neck as he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “That’s a good year,” he remarked, taking a sip of his tea.
Jack grunted in agreement, settling down in his chair and pouring himself a glass, which he downed quickly. “I’d prefer if we just cut to the chase, Director. I have reports to go over.”
Baxter smiled a cruel, amused smile, and set his cup and saucer down onto the desk, folding his hands into his lap. “Tell me, Commander, how did the interview go?”
Jack frowned. “The interview itself went fine. I believe Miss Marsh handled herself quite well for her first public interview.”
“I think we both know that interview wasn’t her first, Jack. Her first public interview, but not her first.”
Jack, who had been reaching to pour himself another glass to savour this time, paused, furrowing his brow. “What-”
“This is what, the fourth mutant we’ve had issues with this month alone? I’d say it’s becoming quite the problem, wouldn’t you? Almost like we have an infestation.” Baxter titled his head, watching Jack’s response carefully. He obviously knew more than he was letting on, so it was up to Jack to figure out exactly what he knew, especially when it pertained to Briallen.
“It's nothing we can't handle. We're looking into the origin of these mutants and their purpose," he said, turning his gaze down to his cup so as not to spill the whiskey. Baxter had been right, it was a good year, expensive, too, which is why he wasn't keen to waste any.
Baxter scoffed. "That sounds like a complete waste of time, seeing as you already know where they're coming from. Miss Marsh could have easily told you that."
Jack took a breath and sat the whiskey bottle down. "Enough with the games, Baxter, what do you know?"
The director's smile widened. "I know you're harboring a weapon, Jack. An expensive, deadly weapon that could easily turn on you at a moment's notice." He leaned forward, cocking his head. "I want to know why you're so keen on keeping her around instead of turning her in. I also want to know how you trained her to be so docile.”
Chapter 38: I'm Alive, I Promise * Author's Note
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hello all! I'm alive, I promise! Time has had quite the way of getting away from me, so much so that I didn't even realise it's been almost two months since I last uploaded anything! I have the next chapter in the works as we speak, but I did want to touch on something before I continue.
I am well aware of the whole situation with Blizzard and it's employees - honestly, if anyone still in the fandom isn't aware of this by now, they have to be living under a rock - especially with the renaming of McCree. I would like to publicly state that, while I do not agree with or condone any of the actions taken by certain Blizzard staff including that of Jesse McCree himself, I will not be conforming with the name change. I, personally, do not see how changing a name will really help with any of this, and see the name change more as an empty offering to try to appease the rightfully angry fans. For at least half of the fanbase, I'd say, the name Jesse McCree did not belong to anyone but the fictional character until the grossly inacceptable behaviour of Blizzard staff came to light, therefore, this name change, again, means next to nothing. It's just a diversion to try to get the fans to think they're actually doing something about this, when in actuality they're doing as little as possible to fix the mess they've caused by letting behaviour like that go unpunished until the whistleblowing event.
Also, Cole Cassidy? Really? It makes me think of coleslaw, which in of itself, is a very unsexy and unappealing thing.
If you find my not changing the character's name bothers you enough to stop reading, so be it. You have every right to do so and I will respect that. But please do not go on a tirade in my comments about it. I am giving you a chance to step back now.
Notes:
TL;DR - I do not agree with or condone the actions of certain Blizzard employees, but I will not be changing McCree's name in this story.
Chapter 39: Weep Not, Sweet Queen
Chapter Text
“Oh, come on! I don’t get to bring Bunny along, but the cowboy gets to bring Stripes over there?” one of the soldiers groused, making his squadmates roll their eyes. The kid was one of ten soldiers who would be accompanying them to Gibraltar; five soldiers each, the two squads were more outfitted for easy ground work, with one of the two more accustomed to it than more difficult missions. Jesse knew one of the squads personally, he’d worked with them in the past, and them being there concerned him a bit. Just what did Jack expect them to find in Gibraltar?
Jesse caught Briallen tensing up, bristling at the soldier’s comment. This behaviour wasn’t unknown to him; he’d noticed how her bearing changed drastically depending on the company she was in. Around him and Hanzo, there was no tension, her wings hung lightly and loose, shifting with her laughter and smiles at his teasing and shitty jokes, around friends, she was a little tighter, still relaxed, but alert and less likely to lean into acts of physical affection. But around the soldiers? Her wings clung tightly to her back, stiff and twitching, as if they were prepared to spring into action and she looked almost guarded.
“Hold your tongue, cadet,” she snapped back, glaring at the young man. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her bag, her wings angled almost threateningly. She looked like a puffed up cat. “You’ve not even arrived at your new location yet, you don’t want to piss off your medic and a commanding officer so soon.”
The rest of the cadet’s squad laughed as his commander smacked the back of his head. “Apologise,” he growled.
The cadet, suddenly looking sheepish and his eyes settling anywhere but on Briallen, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. “I-I,” he stuttered, busying himself with adjusting his gear. “Ma’am, I-”
“The phrase you’re looking for, rookie, is ‘I’m sorry, ma’am’,” Jesse provided, placing a calming hand on Briallen’s lower back, careful not to brush against her wings. He gave her a gentle nudge towards the transport, giving the young man a knowing look as he escorted his still bristling girlfriend onto the ship.
Due to the amount of staff being transported 1,484 miles away from base, the ship they were taking was less of a civilian aircraft and more of a cargo ship, which meant no comfy seats for them, unfortunately, but it would do for the trip ahead. Jesse helped Briallen tuck her bag in the compartment above her seat before hefting his up next to it, watching with an amused look as Briallen settled into her seat with a huff. “You’ve been spending too much time with Angie, darlin’,” he said, a soft laugh etched in his timbre.
Smouldering amber eyes turned up to level a thin glare at him, making him actually chuckle. Her frown deepened. “I don’t like being called ‘Stripes’. It makes me feel self-conscious about my scars,” she murmured eventually, looking away to the transport doors as one of the soon to be on-site medics made his way onboard. She almost looked like a pouting child sitting there with her arms crossed angrily over her chest and foot tapping quickly against the metal paneling beneath her.
His smile faded a bit as she said this, finally seeing the actual hurt in her eyes that she hid behind her anger. Letting out a soft sigh he crouched down in front of her, setting his hands lightly on her knees.
Taking the hint, she lowered one arm, slipping the hand into one of his, still looking away. Her stripes faced him, reminding him of the disaster that was her first mission. He still felt guilty for letting her go by herself. He knew she hadn’t been ready, but he let her go anyway.
While he couldn’t say anything about Briallen’s emotional health, the scars themselves had healed pretty well, no longer a bright angry red and instead settled into a soft pink a multitude of shades darker than her skin. Her blush tended to mottle oddly around the scarring, remaining one of Jesse’s favourite things about her.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on an un-marred part of her cheek and running his thumb across her knuckles. “No matter what they, or yourself, say about you, I will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said quietly, trying not to draw too much attention to her.
A small smile cracked her mask, her cheeks lighting up with that adorable mottled blush as she turned to face him, the fire in her eyes tamed. “You’re just saying that,” she sighed, successfully distracted from her thoughts.
He chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “I mean it more every time I say it, gorgeous.” He reached up brushing her wayward hair from her eyes, the palm of his non-metallic hand caressing her unmarred cheek. “You take my breath away every time I look at you, Bri. I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you by my side.”
She giggled softly, rolling her eyes as she playfully pushed his face back. “It is a miracle that you managed to ensnare both me and Hanzo, you dork.” Her laugh grew louder when he captured her hand in his and he started pressing reverent kisses to her knuckles.
“I count my blessings everyday, darl,” he said, feeling triumphant now that she’d fully relaxed. “In fact, I count you and Han twice.”
She snorted softly, rolling her eyes again as she pulled her hand away. “Dork,” she teased, watching him with a smile as he stood and settled into the seat next to her.
“Gorgeous,” he replied, tipping his hat.
Briallen was quick to fall asleep once the carrier took off, the chill and vibrations a lullaby to her. But it also meant she was at ease, her mind no longer a slave to the notions that had plagued it recently.
That was good, Jesse thought, to no longer be subject to torturously worry about something she had no way of figuring out. Now that he put his mind to it, Jesse realised he really knew little to nothing about who Morrigan had been outside of what he’d seen when she was with Gabriel. He had no idea what her family was like, save for the fact that she was Aderyn’s child, or that’s what they had presumed. Morrigan had referred to Aderyn as “Mother” on a multitude of occasions, but, then, so had plenty of the other mutants they had detained during the Crisis. Maybe it was a status thing? Religious? Had Aderyn been forming a cult with her creations as its members?
Whatever the case, this was something that was important to Briallen, so he was determined to help her find some answers. He and the rest of Blackwatch had spent some time in Gibraltar during the old days, maybe he could find some info on things.
Briallen shifted in her sleep, her head lolling over onto his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around one of his. A small smile split her lips as she snuggled into him.
Jesse smiled, gently smoothing down her hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cadet from earlier watching with slight interest. His smile widening, Jesse leaned back in his seat and tilted his head to face him. “This is why you should always be nice to your medics, kid,” he said softly, chuckling as the cadet blushed and quickly looked away.
“Is it true, sir?” a voice spoke up, breaking through the general din of the small talk on board.
Jesse looked up to see a young man from the squad he wasn’t yet acquainted with. He looked to be about twenty three, with blonde hair cut in the marine high and tight style. He looked too young to be a soldier, Jesse could see it in his eyes. But the fact that he made it into Overwatch meant there was something about him that made him stick out more than the rest. Jesse was eager to see was it was.
“Excuse me?” he asked, closing the book he’d brought with him. “Is what true?”
“That she’s one of those mutants funneling out of Ireland,” the soldier explained, gesturing towards Briallen with a nod of his head. “The ones with some grudge against humanity.”
The chattering din of the ship died down a bit, ears perked at the sudden topic.
Jesse glanced down at the sleeping woman still tucked up against his side, then back up at the man. “What’s your name, soldier?”
“Lance Corproal Sean Goebel, sir,” the soldier said, automatically stiffening into a salute. “I was transferred to Overwatch from the American Marine Corps. They said I was worth more here than out on some ship, sir.”
“Did they now?” Jesse chuckled, leaning back in his seat. He ached for a cigar, but he knew better than to pull one out onboard, especially with Briallen next to him. He’d cut down for her, only after months of her nagging him about the affects of nicotine and smoke on his lungs and whole body in general. Sometimes it sucked to have a medic as a girlfriend. “And why was that?” he asked, scratching at his beard instead.
Goebel shook his head. “I’m not sure, sir. I suppose I stood out more. Gunny had a thing for picking on me, but I suppose it was his way of toughening me up. He said I was destined for greater things, then shipped me off to Overwatch.”
Jesse regarded the kid for a moment, setting his book down in his lap. “Said your name was Goebel? That German?”
Goebel nodded. “Yes, sir, on my mother’s side.”
“Hmm.” Jesse looked at him thoughtfully before nodding and picking up his book to resume reading.
The kid cleared his throat. “With all due respect, sir, you didn’t answer my question.”
“That I didn’t,” he responded, not looking up from the page. “And you’d best put it out of your mind. She’s one of your medics and that’s all you need to know.” He turned the page. “If you’ve got any problems with that, you’ll have to answer to me.”
“Yes, sir,” Goebel replied, sounding more than a little dejected.
As if struck by the sudden silence, the chatter resumed and the attention swiveled away from the three of them.
Jesse turned another page.
Chapter 40: As They Kiss Consume: The Sweetest Honey
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The venue Aderyn had chosen was posh, Gabriel had to give her that. It was also painful to step inside, too many old, happy memories-turned-sour resided in Pear Brasserie. This was where he had proposed to Morrigan, right in the private, arched room in which Aderyn now sat, daintily cutting into the bluefin tuna tartare, a glass of Medoc perched beside her already hosting a light lipstick stain. A pair of bulky guards clad in black stood behind her, hand clasped in front of them.
“Already started without me?” he asked, feigning mirth. He had no idea why she called this private meeting, it wouldn’t be good for him to go in guns blazing, not yet. Not before he knew her angle, because with Aderyn, there was always an angle.
Bright amber eyes turned up from the tartare on her plate as he spoke, regarding him emotionlessly before a smile cracked her face. “Gabriel, darling, come sit! I’m sorry to start without you, but I’m afraid I miscalculated my schedule and haven’t eaten in many hours, I meant no offense.”
Gabriel shook his head, settling down in the seat across the table from her. “None taken.” He glanced around for the waiter, and was surprised to find him nowhere within sight.
“I took the liberty of ordering ahead for you. I remember how much you like the duck foie gras,” Aderyn supplied, gently patting her lips with a napkin. “And I have a bottle of Ribera del duero on its way as well. A beautiful vintage they have, I believe it’s aged exactly four years, to the day.”
Aderyn’s smile was too wide, her eyes too calculating despite the friendly air she was putting on. This absolutely wasn’t just a social call.
He nodded, taking a minute to discreetly analyse the doctor sat before him. The years had treated her well; only sixty three years old and yet she looked no older than forty despite her silver hair. She wore her hair up in the same messy ponytail he’d always remembered her wearing, but she was dressed better, more lavishly. She was gaining more power here, it seemed. That was not good.
She’d always looked too much like Morrigan to not be her mother; same defined cheekbones, same slightly upturned nose, same knowing amber gaze. But Aderyn was taller, more slender in an imposing way. She had more elegance about her than Morrigan had. It hurt to think about her.
Aderyn tilted her head, taking a small sip of her wine. Rolling her eyes, she set the glass down sharply. “Come now, Gabriel, what is with the look?”
Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. “What is this about, Aderyn?”
She feigned offense, placing a hand on her chest. “Can a woman just not enjoy a lunch with her son-in-law?”
“I’ve not been your son-in-law for years, and you know it. Morrigan and I never got the chance to get married. You saw to that,” he snapped.
Aderyn’s smile disappeared in the blink of an eye at his words, replaced with a frown. “You know I had nothing to do with that,” she said sourly, taking another sip of her wine. “Morrigan was a grown woman, she had full reign of her own self.”
Gabriel shook his head. “You and I both know that is untrue. You sent her off to kill those Overwatch agents and she never returned. She would not have abandoned me, no after what we’d been through together.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes again, interlocking her fingers as she leaned her elbows on the table. “Now, that’s not-”
“Cut to the chase, Aderyn,” he interrupted, leaning forward with a scowl. “You invite me to the place where I proposed to Morrigan, reserved the table in the very room where I did so, and order me exactly what I ate that night? This is not a social call.”
Sighing, Aderyn waved her hand and a waiter quickly came over, taking her empty plate away. “I try so hard to be nice to you, Gabriel, I really do. For Morrigan’s sake. I give you allies, I give you bodies, I give you numbers and information, and yet you are still compelled to bite the hand that feeds.” She tutted softly, waggling a finger at him. “And now I hear you’ve been keeping secrets from me, secrets pertaining to my own offspring.”
A chill went through Gabriel’s veins. How did she find out about Briallen? He’d kept that information under lock-and-key. Had he a mole?
The old doctor held a hand out behind her and one of the goons standing there placed a manila folder into it. “How could you, Gabriel?” she asked, pulling out a wad of photos and tossing them onto the table. “I take such good care of you and your friends, and this is the thanks I get?”
He leaned forward, parsing through the print outs. Each one was a still shot of Monarch on various missions, in different states of array, sometimes bloodied and bruised, but almost always smiling, helping someone. It seemed it was something she was doing lately; helping people. The old Morrigan, while she wasn’t entirely cruel, wouldn’t go so far out of her way, not to help people she didn’t know. This version of her, though… How selfless could she be?
“I don’t… I don’t see how I have anything to do with this,” he said slowly, glancing up at Aderyn as he pushed the photos back towards her.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Take a closer look,” she insisted, pushing the photos back.
Skeptical, he did so with a grunt, analysing the images until- there it was. Dangling from her utility belt, almost tucked entirely out of sight, was his raven talisman. She hadn’t tossed it?
Aderyn leaned back in her seat, fixing him with a cold glare. “When were you going to tell me my daughter was alive?”
Her fingers tightening a little too much in his hair told Jesse it was time to finally pull away, but not without one last kiss. With a chuckle, he planted soft kisses down the inside of her thigh down to her knee, gently massaging the quivering muscles as he sat up. “Someone’s been eating well,” he murmured, meeting her amber gaze and wiping the moisture away from his lips.
Briallen laughed softly, letting her head fall back onto the pillow as she gathered her breath. “I will not lie, I do have a soft spot for cinnamon and pineapple.” Once she’d had enough of his fingers kneading the flesh of her calves, she nudged him with her foot, smiling when he took the hint and leaned in for a kiss. “I cannot think of a better way to wake up in the morning.”
He hummed in approval, brushing her hair away from her face. It had been a few days since they landed in Gibraltar and got settled in on base. Well, since the others got settled in on base. As a little anniversary surprise, Jesse had rented out a houseboat, more of a yacht, really, for the two to stay in, just close enough to the base for it to be acceptable regulation-wise, but far enough away to give her a place where she didn’t need to keep up her work persona, where she could take a break from everything. The added privacy they had wasn’t bad either.
“What do you have planned today, princess?” he asked, shifting to laid down next to her and propping his elbow up on the pillow. His fingers skimmed her arm down to her waist where he pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He enjoyed these soft moments with her; these early hours when the sun is just beginning to rise, the tender light of daybreak warming the amber in her eyes, making them glow as they looked up and raked their gaze over him; when the air around them is warmed from just the heat of their bodies together; nothing but the mellifluous sound of the gentle waves outside and their own breath; the world narrowed down to only include them, floating languidly in the ocean, not a care in either of their minds.
But, like every good thing, these moments didn’t last forever.
She hummed, reaching up to brush her fingers against his beard, smoothing it down. “Well, I still have a good portion of Winston’s old files to sort through. He really loved having tangible copies of everything… And then I have to finish up with the personnel medical files. And you,” she said, pushing his shoulder so that he rolled onto his back and she could lay over him. “Have plenty of work to do yourself, you know.”
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could block out the rest of the world that threatened to spill into the room and break the serene atmosphere that currently engulfed them. “Don’t remind me.” He rubbed at his face with a hand, tucking the metal one beneath his head. “Jack’s got plenty of things he wants me to oversee.”
Briallen hummed, smiling contentedly as she swept his bangs away from his face. Her smile dimmed as she caught sight of a fresh wound on his temple, roughly the size of her pinky. “Jesse, what happened?” she asked, experimentally placing the tip of her finger near it.
He hissed lightly and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away.
She frowned. “When did this happen? I didn’t do that this morning, did I?”
Jesse shook his head, placing her hand on his chest. “No, don’t worry about it, doll,” he murmured, laying his hand over hers. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad. It’s just a scratch.”
She searched his gaze a little bit, her brows furrowing. “I did that, didn’t I? Jesse, don’t lie to me.”
He sighed, trying to think of how he could phrase what happened that night. “You… You had an episode in your sleep,” he said quietly, looking down at their hands. “I guess you had a nightmare ‘n, you kinda freaked out on me. Your eyes were wild and everything, and you kept speaking in Gaelic, I couldn’t understand a word you were sayin’.”
She went quiet, leaning back onto her haunches as she met his gaze. “Could you repeat it? What I said?”
His face scrunched up in thought. “Uh… Ná… muinín inti? And then Fe-.. Fealltóir, and Bréaga- Bréagadóir? Sorry, my Gaelic isn’t that great. You just kept repeating those phrases, and you lashed out for a sec, but you stopped flailing pretty quickly. Really, darlin’, it’s just a scratch, I’m fine.”
She hummed in response, pulling her hand out from underneath his, not meeting his gaze. “I remember those words,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she turned to look at the glasses of champagne they’d left out the night before. “I remember saying those words, not last night, but…”
Jesse sat up, sliding his hands down her arms until he could take her hands in his, refusing to let her shut him out. “Darlin’, are you getting your memories back?”
She shook her head, her hair coming free again. “No, not really. There’s still a lot blocked. When… When I was in the care of Talon, Doctor O’Deorain said something about a memory chip that had been knocked loose, I think that’s where most of them are, but I still have a few. Those words… I said them to… a little girl who looked like me,” her hands tightened around his, a few tears pricking her eyes. “I was so angry, and the little girl was crying… And then it all goes black, I can’t remember anything after that.”
“Sweetpea,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek, “don’t think too hard about it, I don’t want you to give yourself a headache so early in the morning.” He pursed his lips, his brows furrowed as he met her gaze. “Have you talked to Angela about getting that chip put back in place?”
She shook her head again, leaning into his touch.
“I think… I think it’s time we did that.”
Notes:
Translations
* Ná muinín inti - Don't trust her
* Fealltóir - Traitor
* Bréagadóir - Liar
Chapter 41: Most Sweet Queen
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As the shrill voice of her alarm clock screamed the song of its people, Iris groaned and rolled over, looking out at the dreary morning rain pounding her apartment window. It was hardly bright enough outside to call it a morning. Therefore, sleep could theoretically continue.
“Just a few more minutes,” she croaked, unceremoniously smacking the alarm clock and pulling her pillow over her eyes.
Only a few moments later, the clock went off again, insisting it was absolutely time to get up and there was nothing she could do about it.
Groaning, she sat up and unplugged the damn thing, grumbling to herself about why the hell she set the alarm to go off so early. Once the shrieking had stopped, she took in a deep breath, wiping the sleep away from her eyes to take in the dark bedroom she slept in. Alone.
It had been months since her sisters had moved into that London Overwatch safehouse, with Iris adamant she stayed behind. Someone had to be there for their aunt; a woman well into her sixties with ALS couldn’t live on her own, and she refused to go into someone else’s care. After all, their aunt had done so much for them, had financed a good portion of their lives in Walworth, had paid for private schooling for them when they were just little things. She was the reason Iris had managed to get through art school with enough to keep her afloat as she looked for work after.
She owed her life, new and old, to little old Cordelia Morgan. After all, Iris and her sisters would have never escaped that orphanage in Belfast together if it hadn’t been for her kindness. It was time someone repaid that, Overwatch - and Briallen - be damned.
As she began going about her day, Iris wished her sisters had seen reason and stayed. Her mornings used to be filled with quiet chatting and laughter, in petty little squabbles over who got to use the bathroom first, fawning over Syvlia’s amazing cooking. Now, they were spent in the quiet, teasing knots out of fur, helping her aunt eat her breakfast, and waiting, an unmistakable undercurrent of anger that only built with every passing day.
Around noon, after a day of cleaning and caring for Cordelia, Iris finally got a break, and she chose to spend that break the same way she had for the past month; curled up in one of the big armchairs watching old videos on her phone.
She missed the days before all of this. Before Cordelia was diagnosed, before she and her sisters moved to Washington, before her world was torn apart again. She had loved her friends, her life, had loved her job, her flat, mornings down at Lucky’s, cold coffee and crumbling coffee cake, evenings down at the park. Most of all, she had loved Gibs. He had never known it, she had never said anything, but while her sisters had their eyes on cute coffee shop boys and fictional anime men, she had her eye on the adorable tech nerd who she’d met at an e-sports event. She had longed and pined and dreamed he would suddenly have an interest in her, to finally open his stupid eyes and see her, and it would have happened. If only he hadn’t run into a poor, lost little puppy down on her luck and decided to take her in.
Iris had seen the way Gibson looked at her, she wasn’t stupid. Not like Briallen was. To pass up something so good that was just waiting to fall into your lap… Not that Iris didn’t like Briallen, she was a sweet girl and a good friend, until she up and disappeared, no texts, no calls, not even a fucking letter to let them know she was okay. All except for Gibson, who protected her fucking secret to the grave. Literally.
It had taken her some time to see, but everything that had gone wrong in Iris’ life was all to do with that bitch who got Gibson killed. It was Briallen’s fault he was dead, Briallen’s fault her sisters were in another goddamn country, huddled up in a bunker, unable to live their lives, it was Briallen’s fault Iris had nothing left. Nothing except Cordelia.
“Iris, darling, are you in here?” Cordelia called, the robotic hum of her scooter getting louder as she approached the living room, wheezing.
Iris paused the video, an old screen recording of a vid call with Gibson she’d taken accidentally and never deleted, and sat up, blinking. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“It’s time dear,” the old woman said plainly, her arm twitching involuntarily as she moved it to her lap. “I’ve just got a call from my sister.”
Iris’ heart fell into her lap as she listened to her aunt gasp for breath, letting her phone drop to the floor as she stood and made her way over to the doorway. “Are… Are you sure? She thinks I’m ready?”
Cordelia smiled and nodded as much as she could. “More than. The programming should take over for you if you need it. Come, dear, it’s time to make everything right again.”
Iris looked into the mirror, meeting the golden yellow eyes with slitted pupils that peered back at her as she wiped the blood off her whiskers. The old woman had had more blood in her than she had expected and it had gotten all in her fur. She’d have to take a bath before she left to get rid of that metallic scent. She was shaking slightly, Cordelia said she would, said it was normal to have an adverse reaction to your first kill, how you dealt with it then would determine whether you could stomach it later. And stomach it she would, if it meant that Monarch bitch would be going down.
Grinning, she swiped her tongue over elongated canines, her eyes flashing.
This was going to be fun.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you finished filling in one of the many accident reports you’d had to do in the past year. Yesterday, a soldier had run afoul a hive of bees, of which he was coincidentally allergic to. The day before, a scientist had had an altercation with a bicyclist’s bicycle on the way to work. And today? Well, today the experiment the scientist had been working on had fucking exploded. It was a miracle those in attendance hadn’t been torn apart by shrapnel.
Your wings twitched anxiously as you stretched, popping the joints in your lower back. How long had you been sitting here? A glance to the wall clock on your right revealed it had been five long hours since your shift had started, and you still had three more to go. When was the last time you’d eaten?
“You do realise you’re broadcasting your thoughts again, right?” came a melodic voice from your doorway.
You jumped, twisting in your chair to see a pretty omnic woman standing on the threshold, holding a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a slice of dulce de leche in the other. Unlike Zenyatta and some other omnics you had met, her body language was very expressive and she carried herself much like Iris had back when she still lived in Walworth with her sisters.
Your stomach groaned happily at the sight of the cake and you eagerly waved the omnic in. “Sorry Beenz, sometimes it slips. Is that for me?”
Beenz tilted her head and cocked a hip as she stopped by your desk. “No, Bri, it’s for me. You know, the one with no mouth?” she said, pointing sarcastically at the purple sheet of metal that covered her face.
You both stared at each other for a second before bursting into peals of laughter, Beenz handing you the tea first, and then the cake. “What would I do without you, Beenz?” you asked, eagerly deciding where best to plunge your fork into the cake.
“Probably shrivel up and die of starvation,” she said nonchalantly, moving to sit on the corner of your desk, perched like a little bird. “I heard about the explosion today, was everyone okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “ Go raibh maith agat na déithe, yes. Gordon, that idiot, decided it was a good idea to up their experiment’s voltage today. Four coworkers with first degree burns on their arms and torsos, one coworker with near second degree burns on her face, poor girl, and three more coworkers with shrapnel wounds. Thankfully, none of it was lethal and they should all heal up pretty quickly. Adaman ,” you murmured under your breath, taking a bite of your cake. It was absolutely delicious, creamy sponge dissolving on your tongue letting the warm taste of the vanilla dazzle your tastebuds. The ripe strawberry added just the right hint of sweet tartness to the mix when it burst on your tongue, taking the cake from perfect to ambrosia-esque. You moaned quietly at the taste, closing your eyes to enjoy it a little better.
Beenz laughed, a soft tittering that reminded you of that little white robot from a movie made years and years ago. What was its title? Walleye? Whatever it was, you were, like, ninety percent sure that’s what she modeled her voice after. It was pleasant to listen to, so you didn’t really care too much.
Swallowing the bite of luxurious cake, you looked back up at your partner. “So, how are you liking the new body? Got any complaints I can send to the robotics team?”
The omnic held out a hand, observing her fingers and giving them a wiggle. “I like it! I feel like I can do a lot more like this. But, I still like my old body too. I think I’ll stick with that one when we go back out on missions, makes it easier for me to accompany you.” She dropped her hand and looked back over to you. “I will say, though, it is pretty creepy switching my consciousness over and seeing the empty husk that is this body just sitting in the corner of the room.”
You frowned. “Yeah, I could see how that’d be off putting.”
She let you get a few more bites of cake in before she spoke again. “Hey, how’s that search for a professional to get that memory chip reinstalled?”
You nearly choked, startled by her words. Coughing, you held up a hand and set the cake down, reaching for your tea. Once you got a sip and cleared your throat, you were finally able to really breathe. “Um… you know, it’s… going.” You managed, your voice a little raw.
“Mm-hmm,” your friend hummed, tapping her fingers on your desk. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you weren’t actually looking. But I do know better, and I know you. What’s wrong?”
A little bit of shame coloured your cheeks as you looked down at your hands in your lap. “I’m… I’m scared of what I’m going to find once it does get fixed… Morrigan wasn’t a good person, B. Also…” You bit your lip a bit before getting up and going over to your door. Poking your head out, you checked to make sure no one was coming before you shut and locked the door, leaning against it. “This stays between us, but I’m afraid she might… take over, in a sense, if I get the chip reinstalled.” You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling that anxiety build up just at the thought. “You know, I’ve only got seven years of memories as Briallen, and I’m only twenty eight years old. That’s twenty one years of memories I’m missing, twenty one years of Morrigan’s memories. What if… What if once I remember everything, I’m not me anymore? I have fought so hard to show the world that I’m not Morrigan, to move past everything she’s done, what if it’s all for nothing and she takes over? What if I lose myself?”
Beenz leapt off the desk at the sight of the tears beginning to form in your eyes, quickly unwrapping your arms from around your chest to take your hands. “Briallen, a chara, in the very short time I have been alive, I have not known a stronger person than you. Everything you’ve been through, all of it, has made you stronger. Whatever happens, whatever you remember, I have nothing but faith that you’ll come through it and be nothing but stronger.” She gave your hands a little squeeze. “You’ll be okay.”
You smiled and sniffled a bit, suddenly embracing her in a hug. Thanks, B.”
Not even a full month after your conversation with Beenz, you’d been called for relocation. The base in Japan needed a new field medic, one more competent than the last, and you’d apparently drawn the short straw. Angela tried to reassure you that it’d be good for you, that you’d love it there, especially since Hana and Genji had been reassigned there, so you’d have friends. You were not so sure.
You liked Gibraltar, liked sharing a yacht with Jesse, very much enjoyed slow, sleepy mornings with him, not having to worry about either of you being redeployed elsewhere. And, by your own will or not, you’d come to like the staff there, as accident-prone as they may be.
But you couldn’t NOT go to Ashikawa, so you sadly packed your bags, and counted down the days until you were scheduled to leave.
Your parting with Jesse was sorrowful, you both shedding tears at the prospect of not seeing each other for a while, but you assured him he could come visit any time he liked and, hopefully, the assignment wouldn’t be long. You hugged, and kissed, goodbye, and he helped you onto the jet, promising both he and Hanzo would be paying a visit soon. Then the door closed, blocking out your view of his sad smile.
Sighing, you settled in for the long journey, your phone already blowing up with messages from Jesse, and a couple from Hanzo wishing you a safe journey and listing a few good places to visit while you were in his home country. You put them on your to-do list and turned the ac on, making it easier for you to slip into a hazy slumber and sleep the flight away.
“ ...reports are flooding in from all over of new mutants springing up out of the woodwork. Citizens of every nation are encouraged not to interact with these mutants as a vast majority have proven to be violent and dangerous. Authorities ask that citizens with any information of the whereabouts of these dangerous creatures please approach your nearest law enforcement facility and turn in said information for a reward.
Where are these mutants coming from? What are they here for? And when will the carnage stop? All this and more, coming up next. ”
The reporter’s voice slowly pulled you out of your sleep, as did the turbulence that shook the aircraft a little more violently than you would like. Blinking quickly to dispel the sleep haze in your eyes, you looked up to find the only other occupant on your flight, some D-class soldier sent to escort you, had the news on and was watching with rapt attention.
Upon noticing you shift and stretch, he cast a nervous glance towards you, as if expecting you to suddenly leap at him and tear his throat out.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh mallacht mo chait ort ,” you murmured, shaking your head. Another bout of turbulence shook the jet violently before you could say anything else, followed quickly by the pilot chiming in through the coms.
“Just a little bit of a storm, nothing to worry about. We’ve shifted our course so we avoid the worst of it. We’ll be landing in Japan in about seven hours,” he said, his cheerful words offset by yet more turbulence. It seemed each time it was getting worse.
Frowning, you checked your course through the provided holoscreen in front of you, watching as the red line shifted from a straight line to a curvy thing, the little plane icon showing you were just over the Tian Shen mountains of Kazakhstan. “That’s a pretty big diversion,” you murmured, turning your gaze from the screen to the window beside you.
A giant mass of dark clouds roiled outside, lighting striking ominously from within its curling depths, appearing to get closer with every strike. Deafening thunder shook the jet again, sounding louder with every clap.
The air felt staticky, almost filled with electricity as you got up, moving closer to the cockpit, intent on addressing the captain and learning how sure he was you’d get out of there safely. Before you could open the door, the lights went out and the jet began listing to the left, a clap of thunder shaking the aircraft violently. You felt weightless, still a little foggy from the ac, and panic bloomed in your chest. From behind the closed door, you could hear the pilot and co-pilot shouting, and then suddenly, you were on your side, sliding closer to the wall. From outside the window, you could see the mountains rapidly growing larger, getting closer.
You braced for impact.
An explosion of pain tore through your body. And then it all went dark.
Notes:
Translations
* Go raibh maith agat na déithe - Thank the gods
* Adaman - fool
* a chara - friend
* mallacht mo chait ort - my cat's curse upon you
Chapter 42: Candied with Ice
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Pain was the first thing you recognised when you slowly came back from the dark abyss that was unconsciousness. Unbearable cold was the second. Your bones creaked when you moved your fingers, trying to get feeling back into your hands, and pain shot through your arm, causing you to cry out. Your cry echoed around you, bouncing off the white snow-covered rock that surrounded you.
You attempted to sit up, but you were stopped by an intense wave of nauseating pain emanating from your ribs. Broken, several of them by the feel of it. Looking around, you spotted the soldier tasked with guarding you laying sprawled on the ground a few feet away. His spine was twisted in all the wrong directions, his eyes wide open, staring at you with their glazed depths. The snow beneath him was stained a bright red with his blood.
Panic started rising in your chest as you diverted your gaze, your breath quickening. “Athena,” you croaked, desperate.
There was no response.
“Athena,” you tried again, the panic making your voice rise an octave.
No response.
Cursing, you closed your eyes. “Help,” you called, listening to your voice bounce off the mountains around you. You could feel your body begin to slow from the cold, your mind hazy. “Please.”
You looked down at the hand holding yours, squeezing it tightly as the needle entered the flesh of your arm. The girl attached to the hand smiled and squeezed right back, scooting closer to you.
“See?” she said, nodding as the doctor pulled away and replaced the tip of the needle with a bandage. “I told you it wasn’t going to be that bad, Fódla.”
You scowled, rubbing the sore spot on your arm for the few seconds it continued to hurt. “You don’t have to rub it in, Ériu,” you murmured, glaring at the doctor as they turned around and began scribbling something onto their notepad. “You know I don’t like needles.”
“Well, you’ll have to get used to it,” your mother said, scolding you lightly in Gaelic. “We have to make sure everything goes correctly. We can’t afford another screw up.”
Ériu flinched at the off-hand mention of your late triplet, casting her eyes down at her feet.
You glowered and bit back a remark about how Máthair should be more respectful of the dead , knowing it would get you nothing but trouble. Instead you kicked your little feet and looked to your sister, only minutes younger than yourself, though she looked to be years younger at this point. It seemed every day you grew two days older and she only grew one. You hated it.
“If we’re done, can Fódla and I go play, Máthair?” Ériu asked, ever the braver of you two. In truth, she was only braver because she was the favourite. She wasn’t the one who had to withstand Máthair’s poking and prodding and all of the needles and injections. True, she had most of the same modifications as you did, but, for some reason, she “didn’t need any more”.
Máthair shook her head. “No, your sister and I still have some more tests to run. You may go play with the other children, however.”
“But Mamaí,” Ériu began to whine, but you stopped her with a covert squeeze of your hand and a small smile.
“It’s okay, go play with Stiofan,” you said, nodding towards the door. “Who knows how long I’ll be in here. I know he’s been wanting to play with you.” ‘I don’t want you to get in trouble.’
Your sister frowned at your thoughts, looking dejected. ‘But I want to play with you.’
You shook your head. ‘I can play later. I’ll come find you.’
‘Promise?’
A small smile was your only response as your sister slipped off the examination table, still holding onto your hand. She stood there for a second before she nodded and skipped out of the room, off to look for her friend.
“I’m surprised at your maturity, a leanbh,” your mother said, a surprisingly proud look in her eyes. “You are growing at an incredible rate. Now, tell me, has anything been hurting lately?”
You gasped, something in your mind sparking you awake. The sun had shifted positions, glaring down at you from closer to the middle of the sky than it had been before. How long had you been out?
Groaning, you closed your eyes and began to take stock of your situation. You had no way to communicate with the outside world, you were broken in so many places, the only thing keeping you alive currently were your modifications, and now you had memories flooding back into your brain. The crash must have knocked your memory chip back into place.
“I have a sister?” you questioned to yourself, unable to pull yourself away from that thought. Who was she? Where was she? Was she even still alive? Why did no one know about her?
You shook your head. Now was not the time to be speculating about lost family, you needed to get out of this situation. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself upward, crying out through the spasms of pain that made moving the most agonising thing in existence. There was nothing you could do about your ribs right now, those would have to wait for if you ever got saved.
A cold blast of wind ripped through the crash site, making the steel of the aircraft screech and hitting you with enough force to almost knock you over. Keeping yourself sitting up was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do, and it took every ounce of mental energy you had not to just let the wind bowl you over and the cold lull you into a nice hibernation. If you let yourself fall into that trap, you’d never wake up again. You couldn’t leave Jesse and Hanzo like that.
“They will find me,” you whispered to yourself, giving you a little strength, enough to open your eyes and look down and take stock of your current state. Your stomach gave a lurch at just how mangled your body was. The impact had broken many bones, and your unyielding rate of healing made sure they all healed very incorrectly. Luckily, you still had use of your hands, and you knew exactly what you needed to do.
Steeling yourself, you gripped your forearm and examined it, tracing a mental map of where the bone was supposed to be and where it was now. The white bone jutted out from your skin in a very disturbing manner, covered in patches of dried, crusty blood. “ Mhac na galla ,” you murmured, trying to get your racing heart to settle, as well as your stomach. “I’m going to need to cut through the fucking skin to get it back in place.”
Thankfully, your knife wasn’t far, as it had been attached to you before the crash. You cradled the handle of it in your non mangled hand and took a breath, preparing to attempt to time this correctly. If you were just a fraction too slow, the bone would end up tearing through the newly healing skin as you forced it back into place and the whole procedure would be a hundred times more painful. After planning it out in your head, your fingers tightened around the handle and you sunk the blade into your arm, cutting a long strip from the edge of the bone upward. Blood soaked your hand, warm and steaming as it ran down in rivulets, and almost immediately, the skin began to stitch back together. You dropped the knife and gripped the bone and with one strong, sharp tug, snapped it back into place.
Your stomach lurched and you screamed as a cold sweat immediately took over your body, your consciousness fading not a moment later.
You stood in front of the mirror, awkward, gangly limbs crossed over your body as you tried to hide from yourself as, at the same time, you attempted to take in the new you. It would take time getting used to the new wings, the way you had shrunk and grew in some places. Puberty was hard, but puberty as well as new genetic modifications? That was even harder.
Hardly eleven and you were already dealing with so much; Máthair’s expectations, grappling with the notion of mortality, earning the respect needed to command an army, built for your mother’s needs, but ordered to respect you, a tween, as well. Then there was all the experimentations. You’d gotten used to the needles over the years, but you would never be at ease with the cold, sterlised room Dr. O’Deorain used whenever it was her turn to look you over. Some days, everything hurt so bad you couldn’t get out of bed, and other days, you felt like death walking.
The only thing that made it worth it was your sister. Protecting Ériu was your only goal, because as long as Máthair had you to experiment on, Ériu was protected. That was the deal you had made. Your life for your sister’s. You hoped some day Ériu would be able to get out of this place and live a semi-normal life, the ones you read about in books or caught glimpses of in some of the shows the other experiments spent their free time watching. Had she survived, you would have wished the same for Banba as well.
“Well, how do you feel a mhuirnín?” Máthair asked, coming over to lay a hand on your shoulder. She was proud of herself, you could tell by the cock in her smile and the glint in her eye. You were the first success for the genetic modifications. You hoped you would be the last.
“Am I going to look like this forever?” you asked, perhaps selfishly. If you ever made it out of here, you would always be an outcast. Not like you weren’t one here.
Máthair laughed, giving your shoulder a light squeeze, bending over to meet your gaze in the mirror. “Yes, my dear, you will, do you not like it?”
“I look like a freak.” You regretted your words instantly, watching the mirth drain from your mother’s face. “I-I mean-”
“No,” she said, squeezing your shoulder tighter as she stood. The slap echoed throughout the room, though the sting on your cheek lasted only a second. It wasn’t meant to hurt, only to serve as a reminder of who was in charge. “I expected more from you, Fódla. After all, I gave you life, and I continue to give you everything I have. At least your sister is grateful.” She glared at you for a moment before she straightened her vest and adjusted her ponytail. “We have a guest arriving today. I want you out of sight. The world isn’t ready for you yet, my dear.” Her smile returned, cruel and knowing. “Your sister will serve in your place until they are gone.”
There was something vaguely familiar about the man who visited that day. He was blonde, like you and your sister, and there was something about the way he carried himself that reminded you very much of Ériu.
You watched from around corners, up on balconies, and behind pillars as this man, this Commander Morrison, was given a very cursory tour, kept away from the inner workings of Máthair’s lab. Watched as he made light conversation, fawned over your sister a bit, before he and Máthair ended up in a hallway, alone.
“Aderyn, what exactly are you doing here?” he asked quietly, his face a crinkle of concern. “These children, what are they here for?”
“You have your ways of solving the crisis, Jack, and I have mine,” Máthair responded smoothly. “By blending Omnic parts and intelligence, these children will become the halfway point between humans and Omnics, they will stop this war.”
“Jack” frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
You pulled back from the railing to do the same, not missing the similarities in your stance. What war? Was there a war going on? What was Máthair trying to prepare you and the other experiments for?
“With all due respect Aderyn, you know that’s not what I’m asking about. The UN is asking about you and they’re especially interested in why you have Dr. O’Deorain in your employ. What does a robotics company need a geneticist for, especially when they’ve already got you?” Jack asked, cocking his head.
Máthair simply smiled and shook her head. “In due time, Jack. It has been lovely seeing you again, but I have work I must get back to. I’m sure you can see your way out.” The click of her heels echoed through the hall, leaving both you and this “Jack” in silence.
“Aderyn, what have you done?” he murmured, running his fingers through his hair as he turned around and stopped. Blue eyes flicked up to the loft, landing on yours with surprise.
Startled, you ripped your arms away from your chest and quickly retreated into the shadows. For a moment, you hesitated there, knowing this could be your escape, or at least a portal of knowledge into the world outside the lab. But then your fear took over and you silently made your way back to your room, taking the shortcut through the vents to get there before your mother could.
It took you less time to come to this time around, and when you finally did make it back to the land of the conscious, the pain in your arm had dulled to a faint throb. The sun was peeking out from behind the edges of the mountain. The fact that you weren’t suffering from frostbite right now was amazing, probably one of the only things you could thank Aderyn for.
Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the pain of sitting up again, this time turning your focus onto your broken legs. Thankfully, this time there were no bones jutting out through your skin, but both of your legs were pointed out in the opposite direction of where they should have been.
You managed to stay conscious through the pain this time, though you were not able to hold in your lunch. The sound that your bones made as you forced them back into place made you violently ill and you had to quickly throw yourself onto your side to keep from retching all over yourself. It took longer than you expected for your bones to heal, leaving you sitting in the cold for a good half an hour before you could maneuver yourself onto wobbly knees. The first thing you did was search the body of the soldier for any supplies you could use. Unfortunately, he was only a D-class, so the supplies on him were very little and the only useful thing you could find was his survival knife, which you quickly stashed next to your own on your belt.
Once you had regained what little strength remained, you slowly crawled your way over to the wreckage, looking for just about anything that could help.
The aircraft had split in two, which is how you and your soldier had ended up ejected unceremoniously out onto the snowscape of the Tian Shen mountains. The pilots, unfortunately, had not been able to make it out of the plane, which had taken a nosedive. There was no getting into the cockpit, and from the acrid tang of the blood in the air, you didn’t want to either.
“Athena?” you called softly, not expecting much, but still hoping that somehow she could hear you. When you received no response, you sighed and shook your head, continuing your search.
Eventually, you managed to find an emergency pack, which had been stashed underneath one of the passenger seats. Within it, you found some rations, which you immediately downed, not nearly getting a large enough boost of sugar to keep you going, a bunch of first aid materials that would probably not end up getting used, a tarp, and a flare. The tarp you could use as a blanket to keep in what little heat you had, and the flare? Well, if someone was looking for you, it’d be best to let them know where you are.
Your energy was running out very quickly now, with the cold constantly pulling you down into sleep and the lack of sugar making you lethargic, there was very little you could do. You’d already done all you could, so with the last reserves of your energy, you bundled yourself up in the tarp, collapsed into one of the plane seats, and set off the flare, praying to every deity you knew that someone would see it and find you as you closed your eyes, possibly for the last time.
Ériu hated you, you could feel it. She didn’t talk to you like she used to, not since you’d found Gabriel. You felt so guilty, but you couldn’t tell her, couldn’t risk Máthair finding out, not after what happened to your sister’s crush. You knew it was selfish, but you finally had something of your own, something so real it almost hurt, and you couldn’t give that up for the world, even if that world was your sister.
But Gabriel wasn’t the only reason you were pulling away. As you grew older, faster than your sister did, you learned things about your mother that you wished you had never learned. How she used Ériu against you, what she did to her if you misstepped. So, you did the most painful thing you could ever think of and distanced yourself from your sister. No longer were you the warm and welcoming presence she had learned to seek out, but you’d become cold and hard around her, especially if Máthair was around. It tore you apart inside, but it was the best thing you could do for her.
So Ériu never learned why her sister suddenly pulled away, why she’d become so distant, why she didn’t talk to her anymore. All she knew was the only one who had been there for her had left her, didn’t care anymore, had become just like their mother.
You hoped one day she could learn the truth and you could repair that relationship.
“Over here! Over here!”
“Jaysus Christ, she doesn’t look good.”
“She’ll be fine, she’s just hibernating.”
“Someone get a stretcher!”
“Briallen? You’re okay now, you’re safe. Stay with us, okay?”
You lay dying, bleeding out, crushed beneath the rubble of the building you had caused to collapse. On the other side, you could hear the Blackwatch agent radioing for help. It wouldn’t come in time, for you, at least. You didn’t have the same healing rate as your sister, she’d gotten all the better upgrades, ready to replace you at a moment’s notice. You supposed this was your moment.
Twisting your head, you caught sight of yourself in the glass of a broken mirror. You were beaten, bruised, cuts littered your face, your skin growing paler by the second. This was your time.
“ Ériu,” you groaned, your voice sounding like you’d just swallowed a shovel full of gravel. “Ériu, listen to me. I have a memory chip, we both do, but she’s going to take yours and replace it with mine. You were always meant to be a replacement for me whenever I actually kicked the bucket. I’m so sorry, for everything… Our father is out there, somewhere, please, find him, he can help. Don’t forget about me, or Banba. Don’t forget our sacrifices. Don’t forget who we are together. Please, be safe. I love you.” You smiled, a gruesome sight as blood trailed down the side of your head, painting your lips like a grotesque form of lipstick, and you watched the light fade from your own eyes. The pain finally stopped. You took one last breath.
Notes:
Translations:
Mamaí - Mamaa leanbh - my child
Mhac na galla- Son of a bitch
a mhuirnín - my darling
Chapter 43: Where is the Queen?
Summary:
No more fluff, only pain!!! >:)
Chapter Text
And smiled, peering up at the man who smiled back down at you. Jack was a nice man, you’d decided. He let you take his hand in your smaller one and lead him to your favourite place - the courtyard. The sun was bright that day, the air warm, the bees buzzing. You’d always liked the bees, and they’d always liked you, swarming happily around you whenever you came to visit.
“How old are you now, Miss Morgan?” Jack asked, sitting down on the marble bench provided.
“I’m eleven,” you said, giggling at the feeling of tiny little feet moving across your skin. “How old are you, Mr. Jack?” You thought it was funny how he called you Miss Morgan, so you did it back, only you didn’t know his last name.
He chuckled softly, running a hand through blonde hair a little bit longer than regulation. “Well, I’ll be turning thirty nine in August.” He watched you carefully for a moment, leaning forward on his knees.
You thought for a moment, cocking your head, before you smiled again and nodded. “That means you were twenty seven when I was born. My birthday is in December. I’ll be turning twelve this year, ” you said, turning your attention back to the bees as they brushed against your cheeks. You almost brought up your mother’s age, but she would be furious if you said anything.
In fact, there were a range of topics you’d been forbidden to discuss; your sisters, personal things about Mamaí, the experiments, and what you were truly doing here. Not that you had much more of an answer than “Trying to save the world”, but Mamaí made it clear that if you even broached the subject, you’d be in trouble.
You could feel the sadness coming off of Jack, could see it in the corner of your eyes as he watched you. “That I would have been,” he said softly. You could tell there was something else he wanted to say, something he wanted to do, but he held back, staying in his place on the bench. He looked around, eyes staring warily at the door before they turned back to you. “Do you know what you’re doing here, Miss Morgan?”
You stiffened, and a couple bees took off, startled. You brushed the flitting feeling of fear off quickly, amber eyes shifting over to meet his powder blue ones. “I live here, Mr. Jack, with Mamaí. She’s very nice, you know, she took in all those little kids from the orphanage and gave them a place to stay too! We get to play all the time when we’re not busy with-” you stopped, realising you’d begun to go into unsafe waters, and backtracked. “When we’re not doing chores or lessons.”
Jack gave you a look which told you he wasn’t buying it. “Morrigan-”
You glared at him. “That’s not my name, mister.”
His brows furrowed, as if that was news to him, and you realised you’d made another mistake. Gods, why couldn’t you be like Fódla? Why couldn’t you be perfect like her? If Fódla had been the one to distract Jack while Mamaí got everything ready, she would have been able to keep her mouth shut.
But you hated that name, hated what it represented. It made you feel awful when Mamaí lumped all three of you together like that. As if Fódla could ever be compared to you, she was just too perfect, and you were too much of a screw up. That’s why Mamaí had chosen your sister for all the cool adventures and missions and left you at home, learning with the other children. And it felt disrespectful to Banba, after all, she wasn’t here anymore, and the name “Morrigan” implied she was. It was a lie, and Mamaí had made it clear what happened if you lied to her.
Maybe Jack would understand.
You frowned and looked down at your hands, watching as the bees began to lose interest and wandered off in search of some flowers to nibble on. “My name is Ériu,” you said quietly, casting a quick glance to the door, fearing Mamaí would come bursting out upon hearing you going against her wishes.
“Okay,” Jack said, equally as quiet, almost as if he understood the importance of keeping that secret. “Éri, do you know who I am?”
Some part of you lit up at how gently he said your name, at the kindness in his eyes when they met yours. For the first time in forever, it felt like an adult actually cared about you in a way that made you feel more than just some project.
You shook your head. “I know your name is Jack.”
He pressed his lips together and sighed, reaching out both hands towards you. “Come here,” he said, and it sounded like a request rather than a demand. Were there actually adults like this?
You obeyed, instinctively placing your smaller hands in his, watching as they were engulfed by his long fingers. You met his gaze willingly, giving him all of your attention.
“My name is Jack Morrison, and I’m in charge of a very important company called Overwatch,” he said quietly, softly so that the information hung between you two like a secret. “Do you know what Overwatch is?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know much about the outside world. Fódla might, though, she had a friend who liked to bring her news from outside the lab.
“Overwatch is kind of like the police, but on a much larger scale. Instead of helping out a city, we help the world. We do our best to make sure everyone is safe and happy. Are you safe and happy right now, Éri?”
You thought about that for a second. What was safe and happy if not what you felt right there with Jack? You hadn’t felt like this with an adult in a while, but your sister made you feel the same way too, so you supposed you were. You nodded.
Something in Jack’s eyes told you he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t push. “Your mother has said some things that don’t quite add up, so I’m here to make sure everything is okay. Does your mother ever hurt you?”
The question startled you, and you had to think for a second before you replied. “No, but my- I don’t like the needles,” you said quietly, not wanting to get your sister involved in this. If anything happened, it would be your fault, not Fódla’s, and you didn’t want to get her in trouble. “And some kids get a little mean when it comes to practise.”
“Practise?” he questioned.
You squirmed a little. “Mamaí says it’s important to be able to defend yourself. So everybody practises. She won’t let them go easy on me.”
The blue in Jack’s eyes had darkened, something angry roiling in their depths, but he kept a kind gaze on you, never once making you fear he would lash out and strike at you.
It struck you then - a thought, not a hand- that in the entire time you’ve been with him, Jack has never once looked down on you. He has never once treated you like an annoyance, never once looked at you in fear, never once threatened to hurt you or anyone else. He has looked on you with kindness, with pity, with understanding. He has treated you like a person.
Sudden tears pricked your eyes and you squeezed his hands a little, looking down at the ground. “Can I come with you?” you whisper. You didn’t want to go back inside, didn’t want to go back to the doctors and scientists who poke and prod at you, didn’t want to have your face smashed into another mat by a kid who’s angry at you, the stand in for Mamaí and everyone else, didn’t want to spend another day vying for Mamaí’s love, trying to get her to look at you with the same pride she looks at you sister with. “I don’t want to stay.”
You heard Jack sigh, and suddenly, there were arms around you, but you’re not afraid. You leaned into it, let yourself be engulfed in his embrace.
“I wish it were that easy, kid,” he said softly. “I can’t take you with me, your mother would just claim I kidnapped you and I wouldn’t be able to help any of the other kids. But, I promise I will be back. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
Jack visits. Twice. Once a few months later, and the second time a year later. Your sister already looks like she’s in her twenties. She’s the one who greets Jack that time. Jack does not return.
You go back to doing everything you can to stay in Mamaí’s good graces. And then, Fódla dies. You do not cry when Mamaí announces it, nor when she announces that you’ll be taking her place. But in the privacy of your room, you mourn.
You opened your eyes, blinking to dispel the blurriness that remained after such a long hibernation. Your body was slow to wake, the muscles slowly reacting to your brain’s sudden activity. Within a few minutes, you were able to fully sit up, brain fuzzy and head heavy as you inspected your surroundings.
No longer were you trapped on a mountaintop with only a nylon tarp for warmth, but instead you were nestled in a mound of blankets in a dark room, lit only by a salt lamp in the corner. You could tell you were underground, somewhere near a lake, as the scent of soil and sediment seeped through the walls. Mixed in with that, there was the scent of a spring meadow, and… churros?
You shook your head and rubbed at your face, dragging yourself out of the remnants of hibernation. You couldn’t tell how long you’d been out. Days? Weeks? It was a long time. Long enough for you to fully ingest both the memories of your sister, as well as your own.
You remembered everything, every experiment, every chore, every backhanded compliment. You remembered accompanying your sister to check-ups, complaining about mother, your friends disappearing one by one, the endless hours of training, the pain of watching your sister day by day grow away from you, and the day you were forced to step into her role. The day you were sent on a mission, mind manipulation and all, to kill those responsible for her death. But it wasn’t them, Fódla had caused the collapse herself, it was just coincidence that Overwatch had been there at the same time, probably for the same reason.
Fódla died in the same building collapse that had taken Jesse’s arm. She’d been there to determine how bad the omnic situation had been in England. Bad enough to get her killed, apparently.
A couple tears welled up in your eyes and you shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to mourn again, you had to figure out where you were and how you got here.
Wiping at your face, you disentangled yourself from the nest of blankets, your feet landing on a fuzzy, shag rug. You could feel whispers of cold beneath it, a stone floor perhaps. The bit of cold sent shivers up your spine and you hugged your arms to your chest, the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing covering your hands like little paws. The sweater smelled strongly of that spring meadow you smelled earlier, bringing back memories of your days back in Máthair’s lab, spending your days honing the skills you’d need to survive. You smiled, bringing one of the sweater paws up to your nose, breathing in the comforting scent.
The scent grew stronger as the sound of footsteps echoed from the hall outside the door, accompanied by a set of whispering voices. You turned just as the door opened, and a pair of familiar clover eyes met yours.
“Stiofan?!” you squeaked, voice rusty from lack of use. Without thinking, you flung yourself at him, wrapping him in a hug as the tears returned with no sign of stopping.
A soft rumble of a laugh vibrated through his chest as he hugged you back, holding you tightly, careful to avoid smashing your wings against your back. “Jaysus, Ériu, you had us worried there, sleepin’ so long,” he murmured, bringing a hand to the back of your head, letting you drag him down to the ground. His accent, as thick as the day you met him, was comforting, a small remembrance of what little home you had in Ireland.
You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching at his shirt, letting all the emotions from all those memories wash over you in a tidal wave. The two of you sat there, safe within the warmth of the shag-rug room, as you recounted the last day you saw him. The day you had gotten too close and had shared a sweet, gentle kiss. Your younger years had been fraught with uncertainty and fear, and Stiofan had been a rock throughout all of it. And then he had disappeared, leaving you alone all over again.
“I thought you died,” you croaked finally, sniffling and reaching up and wiping a couple of his tears off his cheeks. “You- You disappeared an-a-and I thought you died! I thought Máthair had finally had enough, and-” you cut yourself off as your fingers ran over a large, worn scar on his cheek. You looked to him for an explanation, trembling slightly.
He smiled ruefully, taking your hands and lowering them down to your lap. “She sicced the pups on me,” he explained softly, closing his eyes and leaning forward to gently butt his forehead against yours, long rabbit ears flopping over your head. “But I got away. Éri, there’s so much ya missed since ye’ve been gone.”
A voice behind him cleared their throat, and you jumped, startled as a new scent washed over you, clear as a running stream. Peering around Stiofan’s shoulder, you caught sight of a short woman standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. Her skin was covered in a light dusting of faintly green scales that shimmered in the dull light, white hair pulled up in a loose, dropped chignon. She watched the interaction between you and your friend with little interest, only slightly raising an eyebrow when she caught your gaze.
“Good, you’re awake,” she said, her voice the epitome of neutral. “Stiofan can catch you up on things. We have a lot to do and very little time to get it done before Overwatch catches on. Come see me when you’re ready.” She nodded her head before stepping out of the doorway, letting the door swing closed behind her.
Stiofan sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t mind her, Éri. Violaine is… well, Violaine.” He smiled, reaching up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the tears still clinging there with his thumbs. “Come, up, you need to eat. I can explain while you rehydrate.”
You managed a weak smile, shaking your head. “Please, call me Briallen.”
Ever since Jack had laid eyes on that little girl in the garden, he’d had his suspicions. Call it a hunch, call it an instinct, call it whatever you wanted, that little girl was too much like him; the hair, the smile, the shape of her eyes. It was like looking at a picture of his younger sister when she was a tween. It was uncanny. But, through logic, he’d disproved it. There was no way that that girl belonged to him.
And still, here he sat, with concrete proof in his hands that Briallen- that Ériu was his daughter, that her sister had been as well.
In hindsight, it all made sense. Aderyn hadn’t been close to anyone when she started Organic Omnics, there was no one she would have trusted enough to sire her children. The only person she had trusted had been him.
They had been close in the Soldier Enhancement Program; he a headstrong kid just wanting to do what was best for his country, she a charming young Irishwoman looking for a few more bullet points on her steadily growing resumé. She had been the scientist assigned to monitor his progress, which included collecting samples of every type of fluid he could have produced, at least once, which included his semen. Back then, he didn’t understand why she preferred to take those kinds of samples rather than blood or urine samples, but now? Now he understood. She’d always told him he would have beautiful children one day.
This knowledge now made him feel even more guilty for not being able to protect the girls before. Lord knows he tried everything in his power to get those girls, and the other children, away from the monster that is their mother. So many investigations were set aside or thrown away because some government official didn’t see the necessity in investigating a company that had done more good than harm iin the past years. He didn’t dare use Ériu’s name in his reports, fearing somehow Aderyn would figure out what happened and turn her wrath on the girl. But, every investigation based on those reports turned up empty, Aderyn was just too good at hiding what her true motives were.
So Organic Omnics had stayed in business, slowly raising an army of children to be used at Aderyn’s whim. Until Overwatch reporter Oliver Oxton had managed to get a good scoop and exposed Organic Omnics for the experimentation of children. He had died not a week later, by Morrigan’s hands. They had found him dangling off the edge of the Elizabeth clock tower, missing his tongue and his fingers.
Jack mourned quietly for the daughter he’d never known. He didn’t know her true name, Ériu never told him that, but there was no mistaking it. There was no way one little girl could grow over ten years in a single year, then show up later much younger than she had been before. He didn’t know how, but Aderyn had done something to Morrigan, had manipulated her body to age faster, probably to make sure she had a weapon sooner rather than later, with Ériu as the backup.
Sighing, he tucked the report away in his desk, trying to figure out how he would break the news to Briallen. If he would break the news. Briallen had never shown any interest in learning who her father was, perhaps she didn’t want to know. Maybe he could talk with Angela about it. That aside, he would absolutely do more in his power to make sure she stayed safe, even if that meant he’d have to sequester her away in Antarctica of all places.
There was a knock at his door, which opened a moment later. He looked up to see who had the audacity to enter without speaking, his ire lost a moment later when he discovered it was Ana. She looked worried.
“Jack, we have a problem,” she said quietly, frowning. “The tracker on Briallen’s flight has been disabled. They think there’s been a crash.”
All the blood drained from his face, and his heart sank. For the first time in a while, Jack felt his nose begin to sting, a warning sign that tears were in the process of being made. “Is… Is her communicare still working?”
Ana shook her head. “All gps signals for the crew are gone too.” The rest of her news went unspoken, but not unheard. We don’t know if she’s still alive.
Chapter 44: O, For a Girl With Wings
Chapter Text
Jack stood at the edge of the cliff, watching quietly as a team of soldiers and scientists poured over the crash site below him. It had been a heart wrenching site to find; so much red hidden beneath a light dusting of snow, large metal parts scattered about the mountain, wind whistling through the wrenched-open hull of the ship, and two still-clear spots of impact, one of which was missing a body. Panic had filled Jack’s chest as he realised this, but he held himself together as he issued instructions to the team, splitting them into three groups - Recovery, Investigation, and Rescue.
The Recovery team had first collected the body of the fallen soldier Jack had assigned to Briallen, setting him aside gently and covering him with a tarp to protect him from further elemental damage. Jack would ensure that he receive proper burial and his family receive proper compensation for his service when they returned to the base. Once they were sure they’d fully squared away the soldier and his personal effects, they began their attempts of recovering the bodies of the pilot and co-pilot, both of whom had been declared deceased by Athena after a scan for vital signs. The smell of melting steel and blood filled the air as they cut through the metal sheeting which sealed off the cockpit.
The Investigation team spent their time investigating the crash itself; taking scans of the damage done pre- and post-engine failure, measuring the distance from each piece of scrap metal and impact point back to the ship, retrieving and studying the black box data, and recovering what tech they could. It was their low chatter that filled the site, reminding Jack to, even in this remote place, keep his emotions in check. He was their commander, their leader, their rock. If he crumbled, if he panicked, so would they, and he just couldn’t let that happen.
Jack had saved the most important task for the third team - Rescue. Briallen was the only one unaccounted for at the crash site and would not survive long in these conditions, especially after the crash. They had already wasted a day combing the Tian Shen mountains for the crash, so the clock was ticking. With her metabolism and intolerance to the cold, it wouldn’t be long until she succumbed to the elements. That was if she was even still in the mountains.
There had been too many opportunities for things to go wrong, Jack had decided. He’d gotten sloppy, complacent, something that could not go uncheck with how many dangers Briallen faced outside of Overwatch’s eye. Too many people and organistations had an eye on her and no good intentions should they capture his daughter. Had it been Arachnid? They were still having problems with the once street gang turned crime syndicate, and the powers controlling Arachnid certainly had not forgotten Briallen’s face nor her crimes against them. Was it Talon? They had plenty of reason to want her; Gabriel was still deeply in love with Morrigan, O’Deorain considered her a genetic marvel, perhaps those higher up wanted to recruit her given her history with Organic Omnics, history which presented another problem. Both Arachnid and Talon currently had ties with Organic Omnics and could have sought Briallen out as a gesture of good faith. And if Aderyn got her hand on their daughter again -
The sound of snow crunching beneath a pair of boots broke the silence around him as Angela approached, offering a cup of coffee for warmth. Jack risked a glance at her expression, allowing the glimmer of hope rising in his chest to show through his countenance as he appraised her body language, trying to glean any information he could.
“No sign yet, Commander,” she said gently, shaking her head as she handed over the mug. “We’ll find her.”
Jack felt himself deflate as he let out a sharp breath through his nose, glancing down at the brown liquid in his hands before looking out at the snow-covered landscape. His gaze scoured the mountains desperately, as if Briallen could just appear if he looked hard enough. She had to be safe, absolutely had to be. He would never forgive himself if he lost his daughter after just finding her.
Angela sighed softly, taking a sip of her own coffee and adjusting her scarf to sit more tightly around her neck. “How long have you known?” she asked after a moment of searching the mountains herself.
“Two days.” Jack raised a brow. “How long have you?”
“About a year and a half. I had my suspicions from the beginning, however. She’s more like you than either of you would care to admit,” Angela said this with a teasing smile, glancing fondly at her old friend.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “That is a terrible thing to say, Angela. God knows we don’t need another me running around causing trouble. But, given who her mother is, I think we may have gotten lucky she isn’t worse.”
“Aderyn?” Angela asked, furrowing her brow. “Jack, I thought you had better taste than that.”
Jack smiled ruefully. “Not my choice, Ange, you know it wasn’t.”
“I know.” A beat of silence spread between them as they both took a sip of their respective coffees. “She’s a good kid, Jack.”
His smile turned true, though sad, as he nodded. “I couldn’t be more proud. After everything her mother put her through, she still has a kind heart. That’s all I could ask for.”
Another beat, punctuated only by the whistle of the wind and the creak of metal from below.
“Do Jesse and Hanzo know?” Angela asked, bringing her mug closer to her face to let the steam warm up the tip of her nose.
“Not yet. I didn’t have time to comm them before the mission, and I didn’t want to cause undue panic.”
She chuckled ruefully. “That’s a dangerous game to be playing. You know how the both of them get when it comes to her safety.”
Jack shook his head, turning his gaze away from the bright mountain side, his eye beginning to tear up. “They’ll understand. They’re smart men.”
As Angela opened her mouth to argue the morality of hiding Briallen’s disappearance from her lovers, a soldier from the Investigation team came running up the slope, breathless from the trek.
“Commander!” he called, sending snow flurrying behind him as he skidded to a halt. “We found evidence of another ship landing close by. Traces of blood near the landing spot tested positive for Monarch’s DNA.”
Jack’s face darkened and paled at the same time, his blood going near as cold as the mountains around them. “Who has her, Captain?”
The soldier shook his head. “That’s the thing, sir. The residual energy readings don’t match vehicles belonging to any known organisations. We don’t know who has her, sir.”
Chapter 45: Then Her Wax Must Melt
Chapter Text
From the style of the hallways Stiofan led you down, you surmised you’d been taken to an old military bunker; large metal walls curved into a dome above you, lit by warm fluorescents and strings of twinkling lights. The smell of mildew peeked out from beneath the swelling scent of other mutants - predator and prey alike - and spoke to the age of the construction, easily early twenty-first century when the world was worried about nuclear war. The walls had been modified to hold plants, which spilled out to brush against your skin as you passed, few bearing seasonal fruits and vegetables and filling the air with a light, summery smell upon contact.
“ Álainn ,” you whispered, gazing wide-eyed at the ceiling as you progressed, watching it slowly take on the appearance of a night sky. “Is this-”
“The actual sky?” Stiofan asked with a chuckle. “ Tá. We’ve many who feel uncomfortable in small spaces, so to alleviate that we’ve cameras that watch the skies and panels that display what they see.” He smiled back at you holding out a hand to take yours. “Tell me, seanchara . How are ya?”
You gave a rueful chuckle as you accepted his hand, allowing him to draw you close as you hugged his arm. “I’m… I’ve had to absorb a lot recently… For the longest time, I didn’t know who I was, then I thought I was Fódla, and now… Well, now I know the truth. I’m the last daughter of Morgan.” You found your gaze falling to the ground as you thought, your heart clenching at the memories.
“Well, I wouldn’t say ye’re the last,” he said quietly, looking up at the ceiling before turning back to you with a smile. “But we’ll get to that later. We need to getcha up to speed. A lot has happened since ye’ve been gone.”
The smell of other mutants grew stronger as he led to you a large set of double doors. From behind the thick oak, many voices could be heard, clamouring for attention, one more familiar than most, though you couldn’t identify it. The thought of being in a room with so many other mutants - especially with all your recent experiences with those of your kind - filled you with unease and you were suddenly transported back to that first day in headquarters; standing outside the mess hall door, listening to the chatter within but unable to open the door yourself. How far you had come.
“Ya ready?” Stiofan asked, almost as if he sensed the hesitation.
You smiled and nodded, feeling the fear begin to fade. You had made it this far, a room full of strangers wouldn’t be the thing to stop you now.
He pushed the doors open quietly and slipped you both inside, keeping to the background. A small group of mutants of varying species stood around a circular table, all speaking with each other and vying for the attention of a person you could not see. No one noticed your entrance.
“Am I… Am I expected?” you whispered, looking around at the old wood and stone walls. This looked like it had been built as a church and repurposed into a meeting room of sorts.
“Yes, just not yet. I don’t tink Violaine stopped by to let her know yer awake,” your friend whispered back, standing oddly straight. Stiofan always had some form of a slouch to him, just because he was taller than average and had to bend down to meet other’s heights. It was the brown hare genes that gave him such long, spindly legs.
You frowned and turned your attention back to the crowd of people, flinching as the voices began to raise.
“We have to move now!”
“Overwatch will be on us any minute!”
“I told you we should have just left her in the mountains! What good will another mouth bring us? We’re already low enough on food!”
“What?” you murmured, turning to Stiofan for confirmation.
He pursed his lips and nodded. “We’re in a desperate situation, Ér- Briallen. That’s why yer here.”
“Please, please, everybody settle down!” One voice rang out clearly like a bell, silencing the whole room. “I know this decision was made hastily, but there are untold advantages to be had. We needed to get the attention of Overwatch anyways, and I understand this wasn’t the greatest way, but we couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
You furrowed your brows, taking a few steps toward the table. That voice was so familiar, yet you couldn’t place it. Slowly, you paced closer to its source, trying to peer through the crowd of mutants.
“She’s one of us, whether we like it or not, and she’s proven herself to want nothing but health and safety for the people around her. If I cannot get the attention of Overwatch, surely she can, we’ve seen how their commander favours her,” the voice continued. You could catch glimpses of her as you grew closer; bright blue eyes, long, beautiful wings flashing shades of orange as the light caught them, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.
“And how do you know she won’t bring the wrath of Overwatch down upon us?” A different voice called out, words punctuated by a low bray. “If she’s so highly favoured, they will be looking for her.”
“That’s why we must act quickly, we must show her we mean no harm. We are searching for peace, after all,” the mystery woman replied. “We just need to make our intentions and our goal clear.”
You found a thin spot in the crowd finally, and pushed in, gently weaving your way closer to the table. The woman’s scent grew clearer - pollen and vanilla and coffee - and, suddenly, you could see her clearly. In the same vein, cornflower-stained eyes fell on you and she smiled.
The table went silent.
“Banba?” you asked, uncertain. It had been years, so many years since you’d seen your sister. “I thought… Ma- Aderyn told us you were dead.” Your wings twitched nervously as she pushed her chair away from the table to stand. Stiofan appeared behind her, whispering something that made her sigh as he took one of her hands, his other resting against the small of her back as she stood.
“Thank you, my love, but I’m alright,” she responded, looking lovingly up at him. She gestured to the crowd to part and made her way to you slowly, her smile never faltering. She looked gorgeous, but tired, glowing softly in the lamplight that highlighted her round features. Unlike Fódla, Banba did not share any features with you. It was clear you were sister, yes, but she resembled your father much more than you or Fódla ever did. Her butterfly wings fluttered gently in the light, flashing brilliant oranges resembling a monarch’s wing.
“Aderyn has told us many things that are untrue, that is why we are here, Ériu.” She reached out, her soft fingers brushing against your wrist as she took your hand in hers. “But fate has brought us together at last, deirfiúr daor . It is so good to see you again.” Tears lined her eyes as she took in the sight of you, fingers brushing against the edges of your scars as your eyes began to water as well.
“Banba,” you croaked, feeling the pain of so many years building in your chest. Fingers tightened around your heart as you managed a smile, leaning into her touch. “Where have you been? I missed you so much.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Where I’ve been doesn’t matter anymore, it’s what we’ll do together, deirfiúr .” Sniffling, she pulled you into an embrace, holding you close for a few moments before she pulled away. “ Maireann lá go ruaig,” she said quietly.
You laughed and finished the phrase with a shake of your head, “Ach maireann an grá go huaigh .”
Her smile brightened and she nodded. “Come, let us talk in private.”
She explained everything to you; how Aderyn had kept her on the brink of death for so long, finally bringing her back but keeping her hidden away, training and experimenting on her in secret. Until the day of the escape. Months before Organic Omnics had been shut down, after Stiofan had escaped, there was a mass revolution. Many died during the extraction and the rest ended up here, in the tunnels.
Life in the tunnels wasn’t easy, which you’d seen firsthand during your first few days there. Food grew slowly due to the unnatural light and trade work was very few and far between. Most of the mutants here were trained for nothing other than Aderyn’s army, so they had little experience doing anything outside of combat. They were at a loss for properly trained medical staff, a problem which reared its ugly head about a week into your stay when a foraging party came back battered, bruised, and bleeding and hardly anyone stepped forward to help.
Thankfully, you were there. With a smile stuck to your face to quell the unease, you set to tending to the wounded like you’d always done, listening to their stories, meeting their families as they came to check in on them, and probably saving more than one life with just some simple disinfectants and proper wound care. You came to know these people intimately, and their predicament struck a chord with you.
Banba had asked that you stay a while, get to know these people - your people - and their plight. They couldn’t last long in these tunnels, not at this rate, and they couldn’t leave. The world outside was at war again, with your kind. Aderyn’s army had grown larger and stronger, and Ireland would soon fall to her. If these people left now without any protections, they’d die. All they wanted was peace, they never asked for this, and yet here they were, still suffering under Aderyn’s hand.
Despite the extra work you put in teaching some basic first aid lessons, plus a little more for those who seemed really inclined to learn, you also spent a good portion of time with your sister, learning who she’d become in the years she had been presumed dead. She was kind, much kinder than you, and soft, truly maternal in a sense. She led the people of the tunnels with a gentle hand but a firm voice; what she said generally went, unless someone provided her a better solution.
She and Stiofan made a handsome couple as well, with him constantly doting on her and attempting to attend to her every need. Pregnant or not, she wouldn’t let herself become helpless, even if she couldn’t fight that well. But Stiofan had a right to worry, being kept on the brink of death for so long wreaked havoc on one’s immune system and general long-term health. The fact that she was able to carry this pregnancy so far was astounding. You worried about her, as any older sibling should, even if you were only older by three minutes.
Stiofan was the same rambunctious kid you remembered, but only in private and when he wasn’t worrying about your sister. He smiled the exact same way, slightly crooked on one end and with a playful twinkle in his eyes, but it was a smile he typically reserved for you and Banba. With Stiofan, it was like nothing had changed despite the fact that it had been over twelve years since you’d last seen each other.
“How far along is she, again?” you asked, settling in next to your friend with a bottle of true, Irish whiskey and a couple glasses in your hands. It was a surprisingly quiet night, with nothing but the hum of the generators to keep you two company.
Stiofan’s eyes lit up at the sight of the whiskey and he eagerly reached for the glasses. “About fourteen weeks, I’d say, but it looks like she’s further along.” He took the whiskey from you, pouring you each a generous amount before holding up his own glass. “ Bíodh bhur pócaí trom, agus bhur gcroí éadrom, ” he said, grinning down at you.
You matched his smile, holding up your own glass and responding with “ Go n-éirí an t-ádh leat gach maidin agus oíche! ” before downing about half the glass in one shot.
Stiofan let out an impressed groan, finishing his glass easily. “Y’know, fer such a small ting, ya sure can knock back quite a bit!”
You rolled your eyes and punched his arm, knocking back the rest of your glass and clearing your throat. “Yeah, well, you work with Overwatch long enough and you learn some things.” You returned your empty glass to the table, watching as he poured himself another drink. “You know, there might be a possibility she could be having twins. Multiples are more likely to give birth to twins or more than anyone else.”
His eyes widened and he paused, looking between you and his half full glass. You could almost see the slight fear in his eyes. “Y-Yeah? Ya tink?”
A smile broke on your lips and you nodded, pulling your legs onto the couch. It was easy to curl up and get cozy on the couch with your size. Stiofan would have a harder time with his longer legs.
He swallowed hard as he looked down into the pale amber liquid, thinking for a second before he poured some more into the glass. “ Go raibh an diabhal cineálta, ” he murmured, draining it quickly.
You laughed, shaking your head at him. “I wouldn’t worry. You both are surrounded by a strong community. It takes a village after all. I think you’ll be fine.”
Stiofan groaned and leaned back, his cheeks already beginning to flush. He never was a heavyweight. “I dunno, I don’t tink I was ready when we found out. We both thought she wouldn’t be able to, y’know… Bannie was so fragile when we found her, Bri, bein poisoned by her own blood. She’s not a monarch, y’know, she’s a princess, one of those toxic fuckers.” He shook his head. “We can only hope the kid doesn’t get those traits.”
You hummed sadly, playing with the hem of your pants leg. You’d heard about Banba’s condition. It seems it was the one thing Aderyn couldn’t fix. Instead, she kept the poison at bay with a medicinal concoction, which was not easy to come by. “Well, when we get into contact with Overwatch, we’ll find a way to help her. No one’s getting left behind.”
He was quiet, gazing at you with an indiscernible look. “We’re lucky we found ya, Bri. Yer just as sweet as I remember.”
You snorted, giving him a little push with your foot. “Yeah, well, I had a lot of help staying that way…” Your smile faded as you looked down at your hands. It had been too long since you’d spoken to either of your partners, you knew they must be worried sick, but you couldn’t risk Overwatch finding the Tunnels right now. These people needed your help, you couldn’t put them at risk.
“Tell me about him.”
You snapped your head up. “What?”
Stiofan chuckled, leaning back against the arm of the couch so he could face you. His legs brushed against yours as he pulled them up, tucking them into the fold between the cushion and the plush backing. “Yer tinkin about someone special. Tell me about ‘em.”
A soft blush stole the space of your cheeks and you returned to the task of messing with the hem of your pants. “Um, it’s ‘them’, actually. I have two partners back home.”
His eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline and his ears bounced. “Two?”
You bit your lip, unable to fight the growing smile at the thought of your boys. “Yeah.”
Stiofan gave a long whistle. “Look atcha, the love of two men’s lives! Do they know about each other?”
“They do,” you nodded. “They were dating before they even knew I existed. I… I’m actually so lucky to have them in my life. I don’t know where I would be without them.”
“Are they good in bed?”
“Yeah, they’re, um, they’re amazing, actually,” you laughed, nodding. “Jesse is so sweet and attentive, he’s always checking in to make sure I’m okay, especially when it’s all three of us together, and Hanzo’s always thinking five steps ahead. I swear he’s got the water and towels out ten minutes before any of us finish.” You paused, crinkling your nose at how ridiculous you probably sounded. “I’ve, uh, been thinking of getting each of them a Claddagh ring for our anniversary. I know they don’t mean much nowadays, but-”
“That is one of the most darlin tings I’ve heard in a while,” your friend cut in, grinning at you. “I’m sure they’ll love it. They love you, after all.”
Chapter 46: Our Doubts Are Traitors
Chapter Text
The Tunnels were set up in a system of rings, each ring housing all sorts of mutants with a noticeable pattern to the chaos of so many bodies in such a small space; families and important individuals like the Princess herself lived in the two rings making up the centre. This, while possibly not being much safer than the other rings, gave them a feeling of shelter from the outside world. A ring out was where the younger, more rambunctious mutants lived, preferring to live on their own for a stronger feeling of freedom in the claustrophobic base. Another ring out and living spaces became more sparse, replaced with necessity shops and growing rooms where the bulk of the inhabitant’s food was grown. Out there, it was quieter, less filled with people, and that was how Elias liked it.
His studio was there, filled to the brim with electronics of every sort. Most would assume it was just his moth tendencies taking over, attracting him to the buzzing, glowing lights of the old crt monitors that lined his walls and they’d be partially right. It was his moth tendencies that drew him to electronics originally, but his love of them grew as he began to take them apart and put them back together again. Now, decades later, there wasn’t a single piece of equipment in the Tunnels that he couldn’t fix, and the community knew that. The little bell at his studio door would go off at all hours of the day and night with mutants coming in with broken pieces and parts that needed to be fixed. Often times he wouldn’t leave his studio for days, happily tinkering away with the gadgets that would come into his shop, improving them if the customer brought the right materials. He practically kept the whole of the Tunnels running, if you asked him. In return for his services, he was usually left out of any of the rotating duties he was the most unsuited for; farming, guard duty, helping with the children. Really, that last one was more of a service to the community as a whole than it was for Elias, he did not do well with kids in the slightest.
If it had been a normal day, which it had been looking to be when he woke up, he would not have left his studio at all when the Queen awoke. But something in him stirred as the scent of the air around him changed. It was like a bolt of electricity had shot through it and captured his mind. His project fell to the work table unheeded and he looked up for the first time in hours. He needed to find that scent, to know who it belonged to, to serve them. His sudden movement must have stirred awake the little bat girl sleeping in the corner, because she chose then to speak up.
“Elias, is everything alright?” her voice was little more than a whisper, the loudest she could take after such a long nap. Isla’s long ears were very sensitive due to her bat genetics, and while she could speak at a very high pitch if she wanted to, she opted to keep the sound down. “You jumped up so suddenly…”
He blinked, drawn out of the sudden trance, and shook his head to dispel the effects. Whoever’s pheromones those were, they were powerful, more powerful than the Princess’, in fact. He hadn’t encountered something quite so strong since they left the lab. Giving a small chuckle and reaching for a rag to wipe off his first set of hands, he shook his head again, feeling his focus tug back to the scent like a petulant child. “Um, yes. Yes, I am fine, vennen . Tell me, has anyone new arrived in the Tunnels?”
Isla whined as she rubbed her face before she cocked her head to listen. “There are whispers in the outer ring. It seems one of the Morgan sisters has returned. Some are calling her the Queen.”
Elias frowned, picking up the camera again to inspect it. When he determined that no damage had occurred in result to his dropping it, he returned to working on it, reaching for the necessary tools with his second set of hands. “One of the Morgan sisters? But hadn’t the other two died? Søren , can you hand me that tri-wing precision screwdriver? It’s in the drawer located beneath the 1978 Trinitron in the corner of the room, behind the crates of potentiometres and electrolytic capacitors. This screw is so small, I can hardly see it! However Herr Blackstone expected to fix this on his own, I have no idea.”
The little bat chuckled, shaking her head as she pushed herself up to find the requested tool amongst Elias’ mess. “How is it you know where everything is in this menagerie of clutter but don’t know about the last Morgan? She’s pretty much the only thing the Princess has been talking about for the past couple months.”
His wings twitched in amusement as he shook his head and adjusted his magnifiers to get a better view of the screw in question. “Well, the simple answer is I made this mess, therefore I know where every screw, twist of wire, and tool is located, and that I don’t get out much,” he responded with a twinge of laughter to his voice. He chanced a look back at her while she was searching, smiling at the way her ears moved as he spoke, swiveling around as she no doubt picked up conversations from other rooms close by, but always turning back to him to focus back in on what he was saying. He smiled, turning his gaze back towards the camera in his hands as she pulled away from the drawer. “Therefore, I don’t hear a lot of conversations.”
His antennae searched the air as another wave of the new scent came breezing through the air vents. This time, he took a deep breath and set down the broken camera before he dropped it again. Instead of letting it take over him all at once, he probed the scent, took it apart piece by piece as he would any other project. There were pheromones buried in the scent, tugging at a certain mutation he had only been vaguely aware of when in the presence of the Princess; a need to serve. A left over mutation from the age of the Lab. The Knight had it too, that same pheromone but in more quantities than the Princess had. Aderyn had wanted an army, and she had her generals, she just needed to make sure her army obeyed.
Elias closed his eyes, frowning. He’d never had the chance to meet the Queen in person, he’d escaped long before she took over the role of the Knight, of the Black Wasp, but if those pheromones were this strong now…
“Everything okay, Eli?” Isla asked, setting the screwdriver down on his work table. “You seem distressed.”
He blinked open his pitch black eyes and looked down at her, almost shocked she didn’t feel this too. She didn’t share the same mutations as he did; because of his sensitivities he would react to the pheromones more strongly than she would. At a much closer range, she would feel what he did now, and he’d be under the Queen’s spell. He couldn’t trust her judgement, not with his current knowledge of her sister. The fact that Isla could come under such a spell too, scared him.
“Whatever you do, Isla,” he said carefully, never taking his eyes off hers. “I want you to stay away from both the Queen and the Princess for the time being. As much and as often as you can help it.”
“Longshot? Longshot this is Prodigy, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?”
“Longshot, do you copy?”
The forest floor was cold, the air around him growing colder with every feeble beat of his heart. Gunfire echoed in his ears, his name nothing more than a whisper on the wind, a breathless screech from an uncountable distance away that drove the fog away for only moments. He knew whose voice the words belonged to, knew the lips from which they came, but it was not her his thoughts drifted towards as his vision began to darken. It was the rough scratch of stubble, the cold press of metal, the tangle of heavy limbs that he’d met for many nights. It was the scent of cigars and the sound of smooth laughter, the not so subtle glances and shared whispers. It was the worried phone calls and the occasional arguments that always ended in the warmth he found within his lover’s arms. It was he that stayed in his mind, that gave him the strength to hold his hand tightly over the death blow he’d received, to hold on just a little bit longer if only to reflect on the memory of his lover’s face.
Heavy lips fumbled with words as that face was replaced with another. Pretty amber eyes crinkled in worry, freckles that danced under the dappled sunlight, soft lips pulled into a terse line. “Hachi,” the word rattled his throat, taking with it energy he could have saved, should have saved.
“Fuck… stay still, please.”
The ropes that bit into him loosened their grip and he found himself lying back, cold seeping through his veins as the hand clenched around his thigh was removed, releasing the hot scarlet that had been held within.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… stay with me…”
Her scent surrounded him, bringing forth the hazy memory of that afternoon. Feeling her heat against him as he aimed the bow for her, the excitement that beat in his chest as she looked up at him with round, doe-like eyes that searched unceasingly for something, the press of her lips against his and the relief it brought. Suddenly, he was no longer mourning the past that he’d leave behind, but the future he would never have. He would never see her bright smile again, never know if she’d be the one to tear down the walls Jesse couldn’t. They would never grow old beside each other, never enjoy each other’s company as they had the past week, never find a bond as deep as true as the one he shared with his partner. He silently asked him to take care of her.
“You’re not allowed to die on me,” she whispered, a true fear in her voice, a fear that showed the depths of her kindness, the care she gave for his life.
He reached for her, stone cold fingers finding warm flesh and holding on with what little strength he had left. His body was pulled up as he groaned, only able to say her name as she shouldered his dying weight. She spoke, but he couldn’t understand her, the words too garbled in his ears as his senses began to leave him.
He closed his eyes, the lids too heavy to hold up any longer, as she began slowly walking forward, stumbling under his weight.
Closing his eyes against the deep colours of the sunrise, Hanzo took in a deep breath, managing to hold his emotions in check. The memory of their time in Norfolk hit him hard, especially with her most recent disappearance. Even before she had truly known him, before she understood the worst parts of him, Briallen had cared so deeply. She had been so strong in the face of imminent danger, had risked so much to save his life, and in doing so had changed the course of her own forever.
He couldn’t help but think, if he hadn’t pulled on that cord of curiosity, if he hadn’t let her get close, would she have done as she once did? Would he still be here? Would she be in the face of imminent danger once again? Was this all because of him?
“You have been out here for quite a long time,” Zenyatta’s voice murmured behind him, snapping the archer to attention, looking stung as if someone had caught him doing something embarrassing. “I believe I can hazard a guess as to what is on your mind.”
Hanzo frowned, glancing back at the omnic for a moment before he looked back out over the rolling mountains. It was much warmer here than where she had ended up, not a single bit of snow in sight. “She is like a child,” he murmured, looking down at the sprig of rock-cress in his hand. “Fragile. With what little memory she has, she knows not the true cruelties of the world. I worry for her.”
Zenyatta gave a thoughtful hum, coming to rest next to his pupil’s brother. “I believe Miss Marsh knows a great deal more about the world than you give her credit for.”
“She still has much to learn,” the archer said, holding the rock-cress tighter, as if it could be ripped from his hand at a moment’s notice.
“Don’t we all?” the omnic asked in response, turning his head down to inspect what Hanzo was holding. The archer pulled the flower closer to himself, hiding it away from sight.
“You seem to know her well, monk,” Hanzo countered. He didn’t dislike Zenyatta, he was thankful for what the monk had done for his brother, but he didn’t want to be pulled in the same way. He already knew who he was, had come to terms with the fact that he was an honourless killer, he didn’t need someone pointing it out for him.
Zenyatta chuckled. “Your brother speaks fondly of her, archer, and she and I do talk from time to time. She has much to learn about the omnic portions of herself, but she is a very eager student. Genji believes she might be an important instrument of your path to healing.”
“And who are you to determine the path to my healing?” The rock-cress wilted slightly in his hand as his grip tightened. How much farther did he need to be pressed? He wasn’t meant to heal, fate had made that clear with how she ripped away his new love time and time again.
The monk went quiet, pondering. “I am no one. I do not determine the path you take to heal, that is a decision you must make. I merely do my best to guide you along that path. After all, one cannot travel many paths without abandoning the one.”
“You speak in riddles, monk. What purpose do riddles have on the path of healing? What purpose does the path of healing have when the wounds have already scarred?”
Zenyatta went quiet again, watching Hanzo fight the emotions he felt building up in his chest. What reason did he have for coming here to only speak in riddles, distracting him while the only thing of importance on his mind was that his lover had been taken from him again. He should be out there, looking for her, but instead he’d been grounded in France, forbidden from going on the search.
“Even scars heal and fade into nothing, my friend. But they do not do so on their own. Have faith in Miss Marsh. She will return to you. It is just a matter of time.”
Engel123321 on Chapter 5 Thu 09 Aug 2018 01:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
Its_Bees on Chapter 5 Sat 11 Aug 2018 01:12AM UTC
Comment Actions
Engel123321 on Chapter 5 Sat 11 Aug 2018 01:14AM UTC
Last Edited Sat 11 Aug 2018 01:14AM UTC
Comment Actions
Ace_Dragon on Chapter 6 Mon 02 Sep 2019 04:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
Ace_Dragon on Chapter 6 Tue 22 Oct 2019 09:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
Its_Bees on Chapter 6 Wed 23 Oct 2019 01:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
Ace_Dragon on Chapter 7 Wed 23 Oct 2019 07:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
LunaLou18 on Chapter 9 Sat 08 Aug 2020 08:17PM UTC
Comment Actions
Its_Bees on Chapter 9 Wed 07 Oct 2020 12:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
m0telacid on Chapter 10 Fri 25 Sep 2020 10:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
Its_Bees on Chapter 10 Wed 07 Oct 2020 12:40AM UTC
Comment Actions