Almost a month past without incident. Everyone except Sombra seemed to be moving in and out of the base. Reaper left for a week one time, and Widowmaker’s infrequent appearances outside her room just solidified Sombra’s loneliness and boredom. It wasn’t like she wanted to see Gabe or Widow… and especially not Moira, but when not even the guards would speak to her, it grew tiresome. So instead, she focused her energy on really pissing off D.Va and her team. She was officially thrown from the game 3 times, but there was no way to keep her out for good and she even got D.Va on voice chat to cuss her out, she was so frustrated. Sombra smiled and closed her eyes as Korean swear words washed over her. But that also got boring after a while.
Training sessions were sporadic as well, and Sombra was having a harder time concentrating when fighting Widowmaker since that night in the lab. She would catch herself staring at how Widowmaker move, and then get a fist to the ribs. She would walk away with so many bruises she started to look like a marble statue. But when Gabe left for a while, and if Widowmaker just decided not to show up, Sombra would sit in the empty room and try to stretch out the knots in all of her muscles alone.
Apparently Widowmaker loved to sleep, and would take frequent naps throughout the day as Sombra quickly realized when she hadn’t made it to several breakfasts in the cramped kitchen. Gabe would skip the meals as well, but that had just answered her question that he had refused to answer earlier. But she would see him skulking around the different levels, going into different rooms and speaking to Moira when Sombra was slinking around as quietly as she could on antique hardwood.
Besides visiting the abandoned warehouse, Sombra spent her time working on her new stealth prototype. Using the tech specs of previous Talon projects, as well as Winston’s notes, she worked on it tirelessly, ignoring the security job she was suppose to be doing on the Talon servers. So far it was going well… as well as could be said for an object that she would attach to her person and it could spontaneously combust at any moment.
Sombra sat on the floor of the overheated warehouse computer lab, a bunch of tiny screwdrivers, wires and scrap metal surrounding her. She had discovered a defunct 3D printer in the warehouse and brought it back to working order, and was able to design a decent looking hexagon casing for her work. The only reason she worked here and not at the main base was because 1. She didn’t want Moira looking over her shoulder every moment, and 2. She didn’t really want a repeat of the lab with Widowmaker.
A quiver ran up Sombra’s spine as she thought about Widow. It was dumb. A stupid crush. That was it. She was just an idiota. But who could blame her? Widowmaker was a perfect setup for sexual attraction. Beautiful, tall, mysterious, sullen, sarcastic, strong, deadly…. Sombra shook herself again. Esto estaba empezando a ser un problema … She had to focus on her work, not the memory of cold fingers in her hair.
After a few more tweaks, she set the device on the chair and hurried back a few yards away from it. There was still the high probability it would burst into flames and she was definitely not going to hang around if that happened. Talon had insurance right? She watched, holding her breath, as she pressed the On button.
The chair and device did nothing. Sombra’s excitement dropped exponentially as she stared despontely at the metal device sitting snuggly in the chair. She looked down at the system diagnostic running by at breakneck speed in purple writing. It was running, it just wasn’t working. With a sigh, Sombra stepped back towards the chair, gearing up to shut it back down when suddenly there was a giant pulse of energy that exploded out of it.
Sombra flew backwards, her feet lifted completely off the floor, and slammed into one of the giant computer towers. She coughed, trying to get air back into her lungs, and squeezed her eyes back open.
The chair and device were gone.
“Jodido infierno, ¿qué fue eso?” She muttered as she stood up shakily. “What the fuckkk….” Her eyes snapped completely open as she looked down at her computer system. It was completely turned off. She snapped her fingers, trying to turn it back on, but instead she felt her back slowly seizing up.
Oooh this wasn’t good.
Stiffly she turned around and looked at the computer towers. In a large circular radius, about 20 of them were completely dead. The device had let out a giant EMP burst that had totally shut down every system in a 30 foot circle, and Sombra had definitely been near the epicenter of the blast.
She reached behind herself and felt the metal of her spine. It was still operating, because in case of occasions just like this one, it relied on her own electronic pulses in her brain to stay powered, but clearly some of the operations were not at full working capacity. She was gonna have a hell of a time later…. Sombra turned back towards where the chair had been. She walked forward, looking around the corners of the rows of computer towers, but it was gone. Had it just vaporized? Good thing she hadn’t been wearing it.
She bumped into something at knee height and almost lost balance as she looked wildly around for the offending object. And then the chair flickered back into place. Sombra stared down at it.
“¡Santa Madre de Dios!” Sombra yelled, pumping her fist in the air. “No way!” She reached down and picked up the invisibility device and looked it over. Just then, all the computers whirred back on around her, and her own system sang its own little startup song, and she felt her back soften back into place. Sombra held onto the device and started dancing around the warehouse. She was a fucking genius.
After her self-congratulating party, she stopped and ran through the diagnostic review of what had actually happened. Sure enough, an EMP blast had acted similar to how Winston’s initial shield prototype would explode outwards, but she could definitely use it if she could figure out how to dampen the explosion-like quality it had. And sure enough, the light refracting abilities of the shield had worked at reflecting back the surrounding area to successfully make the object vanish. She would just need to do some tweaking and then they would be in business.
A message pinged her and she opened her video feed to reveal the angry face of Moira.
“Sombra, what the hell is going on over there?” Moira spat. Sombra quickly brushed her hair back into some semblance of tidiness, and glanced around innocently.
“¿Qué pasa, jefe?” She asked innocuously. “What are you accusing me of now?”
“Our entire system went down over here,” Moira waved her hand behind her. “Are we under attack?”
Sombra pondered how far she would lie about the incident. She was definitely not ready to reveal this new piece of tech. “Nothing I can’t handle. Everything is back up right?”
“...Yes,” Moira narrowed her eyes across the feed.
“I’ll make sure to run a system wide scan to make sure everything is in tiptop shape,” Sombra put her fingers up in the OK symbol and winked. “But I’m positive everything is fine.”
“Fine,” Moira sighed. “I’ll want a full report later of what went down. Right now though, I need you back at base.”
“Ok, jefe, on my way,” Sombra nodded, and Moira terminated the feed.
Back at base, Sombra walked into the lab where Moira was working on some notes that looked to be filled with sketches of chemical compounds. Moira glanced up and then went back to her work.
“Sombra, you will be accompanying Widowmaker to London.”
Sombra paused, recalling the mission Moira had given to Widowmaker: assassinate the peaceful omnic Mondatta. Her stomach clenched. “Why?”
“Because I told you to,” Moira flashed her eyes up at Sombra again.
“But before I wasn’t going to have anything to do with that mission,” Sombra folded her arms. “So why now?”
“I was originally going to accompany Widowmaker,” Moira sighed, and set down her pen. “But it is too high risk at this time, and since you-”
“-since I am still a shadow, I just might blend in enough to help out. Okay, but why does anyone need to go with her?”
Moira stared at Sombra, obviously considering how much she should tell Sombra at this point. Finally she relented, “You will be in the drop ship, and you will be there to pick her up. We’re dropping her off a little way from the target’s speech, and she’ll need as many eyes in the sky as we can get. Since you have been working with her more closely this past month, it is good for her to have someone around she knows.”
“Someone she can trust?”
Moira’s lip curled at the word, and waved her hand dismissively. “Someone who knows how she will react to a situation.”
“Got it,” Sombra narrowed her eyes. She could tell she was still missing an integral part of what made Widowmaker such a great sniper, but she also knew she would be pushing her luck if she pressed Moira more. “When do we ship out?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Moira said. “You’ll be hacking into the security guards comms and monitoring their channel, relaying updates to Widowmaker on the ground.” Sombra nodded. “Meet at the entrance at 0600 hours and if you could wake Widowmaker up, she isn’t answering her phone and I need her down for a session.”
“Sure thing, jefe,” Sombra saluted and headed out the door, followed by an exasperated sigh.
On the third floor, she banged on Widowmaker’s door. No answer came, and Sombra banged on it louder. Finally the sound of shifting sheets alerted her to Widow’s movement. She leaned against the doorframe and grinned up at a bedhead Widow that opened the door.
“Qu'est-ce que tu veux?” Widowmaker groaned as she saw who had disturbed her.
“Sorry, chica, I don’t speak French,” Sombra smiled sweetly up at Widow. She was wearing a tank top that left little to the imagination and baggy sweatpants that only she could make look like high fashion. “Moira said she’s been trying to call you. She wants you in for a session.”
Widowmaker’s eyes flashed with something that Sombra couldn’t place her finger on. But it was gone before she could get a good look. Widow nodded slowly, and then turned around and slammed the door back in Sombra’s face.
“Aye! I wasn’t done - “ Sombra through her hands into the air and turned away. “Whatever, suit yourself.”
She woke up a little later than she had anticipated and had to rush to put on the annoying amount of layers that was her Talon uniform. She swung by the kitchen and grabbed an orange for breakfast, and jogged down the stairway and ran towards the door, where she could see the purple flash of her teammate.
“Wait!” Sombra gasped, running towards the SUV that Widowmaker was stepping into. She paused and flipped her hair over her shoulder, watching as Sombra caught up.
“Why?” Widowmaker asked curtly.
“Moira wants me to go with you,” Sombra extended her hand to the open car door, and leaned against it. “She needs someone to keep an eye on you.” She winked and Widowmaker rolled her own eyes.
“Seriously? Baise moi,” Widowmaker hung her head for a moment and then looked back over her shoulder at the base. “This must be a punishment for failing to get the glove.”
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Sombra pushed past Widow and clambered into the vehicle. “I think I can be quite a treat.”
Widowmaker waffled about a moment, as if deciding how worth Moira’s anger it would be if she refused to get in the seat next to Sombra, but Sombra knew who would win out. After all, Widowmaker was just a little puppet of Moira’s. And sure enough, Widowmaker stepped up and into the SUV and settled herself next to Sombra.
“So what was your session?” Sombra asked, ripping into the orange. It made the car smell amazing, and she held out a piece to Widowmaker who shook her head.
“Getting ready for today,” Widowmaker looked out the tinted glass window as they drove down the narrow streets.
“Yeah, like how?” Sombra pushed.
“I get a dose of stimulants, and other medicines. My eyesight is calibrated. That kind of thing,” Widowmaker said quickly.
“Stimulants hm?” Sombra asked through a mouthful of orange. “Don’t happen to have any extra? I use to love diet coke and addy. It would get me through long nights on the computer.”
“I don’t know what either of those are,” Widowmaker snapped.
“Oh come on,” Sombra poked Widowmaker’s shoulder. “You were a ballerina, aren’t dancers obsessed with being the best, which then leads to some coca right here.” Sombra tapped her nose knowingly.
The look that Widowmaker had on her face soured Sombra’s banter. It was one of confusion, anger, and possibly fear? Sombra sat back and ate another piece of orange.
“Sorry, shouldn’t have brought it up,” Sombra said sheepishly. Moira had sent that stupid list of off limit questions, and ballet had been one of them. Obviously there was a good reason for that. Widowmaker took a heavy breath, her chest rising and then settled back into the seat with the expel of air.
“Anyway, wanna listen to some music?” Sombra asked, and hacked into the car’s audio system without waiting for a response.
London was cold and wet. They were in an MV class ship again, and Sombra was glad she wasn’t outside. The plane ride hadn’t been too long to London, they had settled in an abandoned field outside of the city, and there had been a lot of pre-op set up as Sombra found the channel that Mondata’s security team was using. Widowmaker had studied a 3D map of the location she would be setting up, and had stretched out. There was talk that the security for Mondatta had been raised due to the anti-Omnic protests occuring in King’s Row, and Sombra scoured the feeds to get placements of guards.
“You ready, chica?” Sombra asked as the time of the talk drew closer. “Mondatta’s codename is Halo, so just pay attention to that.”
“Hand me my bag,” Widow commanded, extending her arm towards a small black backpack. Sombra didn’t budge from her seat at the computer array. She wasn’t some dog to play fetch with Widowmaker. Instead, another Talon member reached for the bag and handed it over. Sombra watched interestedly as Widowmaker removed a syringe filled with a light blue fluid, and two white pills that she quickly dry swallowed. After a breath, she closed her eyes and jabbed the needle into her throat and pressed on the plunger slowly. Sombra cringed, but Widowmaker’s face was a solid stone mask. As she opened her eyes, they almost seemed to glow more than usual and she took a large breath in.
“What was that?” Sombra asked curiously.
“You know about my heart?” Widowmaker offered easily. Sombra was somewhat surprised.
“Uh, no? Should I?” Sombra cautiously looked Widowmaker over.
“My heart beats very slowly, this just helps it keep it that way in case I have an adrenaline surge.”
“So willing to spill for once,” Sombra observed. “Well, good luck.”
Yellow eyes glinted and Sombra could have sworn Widowmaker had flashed her a small grin. “I don’t need luck.”
The MV ship lifted off in relative silence. They were in a more stealth version of the plane, but it was still bulky so they had to be in and out of London airspace relatively quickly, leaving Widowmaker on the ground defenseless. As they approached, Sombra hacked into the cameras from drones, streets, and news feeds surrounding the event and loaded them up on the multiple monitors to help keep track of Widow. Sombra’s blood was starting to pump loudly in her ears as the pressure of this next mission grew increasingly close. Everyone on the plane felt the tension. Two failed missions made it imperative that this one go well, otherwise there would be very serious consequences waiting for them back in Morocco. Man, she should have hit Widow up for some of that calm juice.
Widowmaker stood at the bay doors and waited patiently, her sniper rifle slung easily over her shoulder. Finally, they were only a mile and a half away from the event and the doors opened slowly, wind whipping around inside the main cabin. Sombra’s hair sliced at her cheekbones and her eyes started to water, but she kept them focused on the silhouette of Widow.
Without a glance backwards, Widowmaker took a step forward and vanished from view.
The MV ship dipped and swung around to head back towards safety. Sombra slipped on her headset and tapped the mic.
“Hey, you make it, spider?” She asked as the doors closed tightly.
There was a pause and then with a burst of light static, Widowmaker’s voice lilted over the comm system. “Almost to position. Going radio silent.”
“Alright, well just watch out, I’m getting movement three rooftops northwest of your current position,” Sombra said as she watched the feeds. She was quickly hacking the cameras to miss the figure running silent across the rooftops, looping the feed, effectively making Widowmaker invisible, with only her small team in the sky able to see her.
Sombra took control of the small camera on the drone that Talon had launched as soon as Widowmaker had landed, and guided it to follow Widowmaker’s deadly path across the rooftops. Widowmaker made quick work of the security guards on the roofs, silently and effectively knocking them out, or even breaking their necks if she had the chance. Sombra was glad she was watching this through a screen.
“Mondatta is coming to the podium, get into position,” Another Talon agent said into his mic next to Sombra. She glanced at the news feed of Mondatta walking up to the podium sublimely nodding his head towards the large crowd cheering for him.
“Widow, the chatter is catching up to you, the security teams know something is happening on the roofs,” Sombra warned as she heard the terms ‘infiltrator’, ‘not at position’ and ‘not responding’.
All the training she had been forced to deal with with Widowmaker had really been childs play. Sombra’s mouth was dry as she watched Widow slip by in the shadows, her feet barely making a sound. A guard was in front of her, and Sombra could tell by her movements that this was much more of a hunt than just a tactical move on Widow’s part. She looked more alive than Sombra had ever seen her.
Sombra zoomed in the drone’s camera just as Widowmaker shot out her grabble to distract the guard. He had no idea what hit him. She was in and out so fast, Sombra almost thought she had missed how he was now on the ground bleeding from a head wound, but she didn’t miss the smirk that crossed Widow’s face as she glanced up at the drone.
“That’s me,” Sombra said hoarsely. “Watching over you.”
Widowmaker ignored the drone trailing behind her, and stood easily on the precarious edge of the roof. She wrapped her foot in the metal wire of the grapple, and Sombra’s throat caught again as she stepped off. Sombra hurriedly sent the drone buzzing over the roof, just in time to see Widowmaker spin comfortably in to place upside. She raised her rifle and her helmet snapped shut. Sombra wondered how it worked, and it was pretty clear that it enhanced her vision sevenfold.
Suddenly a blue and yellow streak crossed the lense of the drone.
“Widow you’ve got incoming!” Sombra said just as Tracer opened fire.
“Widowmaker, watch your shots!” Another Talon agent yelled into her mic to Sombra’s left, because as Widow had tried to shoot Tracer out of the sky, a stray bullet hit the drone and they were dark.
“I can follow her using the cams around the buildings,” Sombra said and quickly began typing, trying to catch up to the fast moving action. She felt a little helpless, miles away from where Widowmaker was facing Tracer by herself. But her fingers were fast, and she soon caught up to Widowmaker just exiting a stairwell back to the rooftops.
“Tracer is in the security comms, she’s warned them,” The agent to Sombra’s right said. “Mondatta is on the move.”
“Halo is coming in hot,” Said the crackle of the Chief of Security over the speakers in the MV.
Widowmaker stopped shooting towards Tracer’s position and ran to the opposite side of the roof and -
“I’ve lost you,” Sombra said desperately. So had Tracer apparently.
“There, roof southeast,” Left agent said pointing at the map that had a small red dot that represented Widowmaker’s tracker. Sure enough, Widowmaker had smashed into two security guards. As she ran towards the third, Sombra noticed how she shot her gun into the ground, using its momentum to launch herself to the next roof. Okay, so maybe she was one of the best snipers out there. She had made her way to opposite side she had been on and her shot of Mondatta was no longer clear.
“Tracer on your rear,” Sombra said as the blue streak flashed by a camera.
Widowmaker turned and glanced behind her and then was back over the roof, sending Tracer on a wild ride. Tracer was too quick to shoot down, but this goose chase was wasting time. Also they were moving so fast that Sombra was having a hard time catching up with the cameras, always a few seconds too slow.
She noticed the purple glow of a spider-like device on a chimney that Widowmaker had just thrown into place - ah, she had been working on it the first time they had met. Now Sombra would be able to see it in action. And she did just as Tracer ran past it and triggered the trap. It exploded in a cloud of dark purple smoke and Tracer was down.
The Talon agents cheered in the plane as the footage of Tracer sliding on her side appeared before them, her body weakened by the toxic cloud. Sombra zoomed in as Widowmaker approached the prone form of Tracer and felt her chest hitch and a jolt that went down her stomach as Widow placed a heavy foot on Tracer’s shoulder and pointed the barrel of her rifle at Tracer’s face.
She was not getting turned on by this right now.
Sombra blinked rapidly and shifted uncomfortably as she grew warmer, blood rushing both up and down her body. She had to focus, but it was hard when Widowmaker’s voice spoke right into her ears.
“Such a sweet, foolish girl,” Widowmaker almost purred down at Tracer. Mierda…. She was not wishing that was her right now, no she wasn’t.
Tracer suddenly pulled a move that Sombra had only heard about but had never seen and she could feel the eyes of the other agents on her as she gasped with what could only be described as glee. Tracer, ever in a flux state of time, recalled and sent herself back in her own timestream, yards away from Widowmaker. She was back in the game.
“Grenade incoming!” The right agent yelled into his mic. Sombra could see Widowmaker looking around quickly and then she saw and shot it down -
A giant explosion erupted across the rooftop and the camera was dead.
“Damn it,” Sombra growled, trying to find another feed to hook into. She got a lock on a news camera pointed towards the explosion. Tracer was falling….
“Widowmaker, please respond,” Left agent said hurriedly into her mic, turning to look at a screen that kept track of Widowmaker’s vital signs. It had gone dark.
Sombra zoomed in just in time to see Widowmaker in the air, her rifle up, her helmet in place over her eyes and Tracer blinked out of the way just as Widowmaker pulled the trigger.
“Target is eliminated!” The Talon agent to her right cried out, and there were more cheers around the cabin. Sombra noticed her hands were shaking.
“Okay, move out, picking up Widowmaker,” The pilot called out, and they lifted off. Sombra watched the feeds of Mondatta’s lifeless body in the limousine, at the crowd panicking and crying, screams echoing across the street of King’s Row. What had she gotten herself into….
Widowmaker’s voice crackled through her headphones again, “Looks like the party is over.” Sombra felt a chill run up her spine.
The faint protesting of Tracer carried over Widowmaker’s microphone as she undoubtedly saw what had happened to Mondatta. Suddenly there was crushing static over the headphones and Sombra winced at the noise. She had to find out what was happening. After a few seconds of searching, she found a new camera to hijack and watched as Tracer crouched over Widow, her ponytail hanging over the edge of the roof.
“We have your coordinates, less than a minute until ETA,” Right agent said.
“Disengage and rendezvous,” Left agent commanded.
“Why?!” Tracer’s incredulous yell deafened Sombra for a brief second. “Why would you do this?” She sounded close to tears. The chill that had gone through her, curled in her stomach as Widowmaker let out a cold chuckle.
“Disengage, we are here!”
Sombra turned towards the opening door to see Widowmaker on the roof. Tracer turned to look at the MV but Widowmaker grabbed her and brought her close.
“Adieu chéri,” Came the hiss over the mics. And then she flung both of them off the roof.
“Widow!” Sombra stood up in shock, her stomach clenching, her hands shaking - no she was fine. Widowmaker swung back up to the roof on her grapple and picked up her rifle as she walked back to the MV plane.
Sombra sat back down and looked at her long, fake nails on her gloves, and then gripped her hands together, trying to stop the shaking. Widowmaker stepped back into the plane, and turned to look over the London horizon. After a moment she turned and passed off her rifle and was strapped into a chair. Sombra swiveled her own chair towards Widowmaker and studied her.
This act of assassinating Mondatta could be seen as an act of war. If war was on the horizon, then Sombra needed to get ready, start pulling her cards together for the final act.
“How can you do it?” Sombra finally asked when Widow was handed a headset, and watched closely for any reaction.
“Have you killed before?” Widowmaker asked, tilting her head towards Sombra, but didn’t look at her.
“Self defense, a few times,” Sombra muttered. There had been an ambush by the Colmillos Rojos against Los Muertos, a lot of heavy fire. Another time a bank heist had gone wrong and she had shot a security guard. She didn’t like it, but when it was necessary, well then, it had to be done. “That was different. This was -”
“My orders,” Widowmaker cut off, her tone dangerous.
“Hm,” Sombra shrugged and looked away. “But you know, I got a little worried about you down there.”
There was a moment of silence and when Sombra looked back at Widow, her yellow eyes were boring into her with a deadly glint. “Your emotions can make you pathetic, weak,” Widowmaker said quietly, almost dangerously. Sombra was taken aback by the harsh words, and the uncaring tone that Widowmaker was able to deliver her opinion in. She was really gonna blow past the fact Sombra just admitted that she might care for Widowmaker just a tiny bit?
“Well, fuck you too, then,” Sombra snapped back, and turned off her mic, the rest of the ride spent in silence.
She did spend the next six hours writing up a new set of codes for her little device. Tracer’s “blinking” as it was called had given her an idea.
A warm breeze. Exposed brown legs. Palm fronds swayed in an open window, casting shadows. It was dark outside and yet the sun was shining. Plumeria and orchids hung from the ceiling and scattered on the floor. Willowy fingers carrassed. Pale blue shimmered. Dark long hair flowed over her hip bones. A gasp, open mouthed silent yes.
Sombra jolted awake, and then quickly buried her face in her pillow, trying not to scream into it out of embarrassment. No, none of this was happening! She couldn’t allow it. But this was the third dream, the third night interrupted by sweat drenched sheets. The third morning that Sombra awoke with a brick in her stomach, knowing that she would have to face her again.
She was just lonely! Bored, lonely, and probably a little sad at her situation, Sombra reasoned with herself, eyes wide as she stared at the blank wall in front of her face, her teeth digging into the pillow case. She just needed to get out of here, get these thoughts out of her system. Who had time to deal with this shit? Not Sombra, that was for sure.
She rolled over after her breathing had settled, and looked out the window at the twinkling stars, the sliver of the moon still high. Another day was approaching. Another day to have Reaper scold her, Moira to work her, and Widowmaker to slam her against the floor repeatedly in training sessions. She definitely needed a distraction from her team, from Talon.
Sombra checked the camera feed imbedded in the wall, double checking that the image there had her sleeping form on a 10 minute loop, before she slipped on a light sweatshirt and creaked open her door to the wall. How quiet did she have to be? While Sombra was sure Widow wouldn’t wake up from a creak here or there, she wasn’t too sure about Gabe. If he didn’t need food, or drink, need he need rest? Probably not. So best to be quiet. Not to mention, had to stop at every camera she detected to insert empty hallway footage so no one, not even Moira would see her shadow cross the feeds.
She wasn’t 100% sure where she was headed, she just knew she needed to get some fresh air. Talon guards were stationed on the bottom level, keeping people out as well as in. So up seemed to be the only option. The top floor, where the large empty room was, with its evil hard floors, also had another doorway right next to the staircase.
Scaling the steps two at a time, Sombra reached the top floor and swung open the second door. Sure enough, her hunch had been correct. The interior was just a storage closet, with an old broom and buckets, as well as extra cable and wiring. Glancing up, there was what she was hoping to find: an extendable ladder and trap door for roof access. She had to jump a few times, cursing her short height to reach the string that would pull down the ladder, but eventually she got it and hoisted herself out into the warm night air.
She could see the ocean. Just a little bit of it, but enough to make her stomach clench and her fingers involuntarily curl as she looked over the edge of the roof. Yellow lights highlighted stuccoed buildings and she could even see the famous Essaouira Ramparts off to her left. Below her in the silent street, shadows of cats whisked by silently, undoubtedly on the hunt. Sombra breathed in the salt air for a moment, running her hands through her hair, and closed her eyes. After a few minutes of standing, she sat, legs crossed, and opened her interface to mess around on the web. She checked news from México, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the gang violence between Los Muertos and Colmillos Rojos (was she seriously starting to miss those petty arguments?), and more unrest was noted surrounding plans of another LumériCo power plant (how many pyramids did one company need? Was it compensation for something? It was definitely compensating for something). She then opened the news reports of Mondatta’s assassination. It had been front page headlines since it had occurred three days ago. No official leads, just conspiracy theories so far.
Sombra jumped violently as the trap door behind her slammed shut. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, and then rolled her eyes and scowled deeply, turning her face in the opposite direction.
“Dios, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Sombra folded her arms and frowned over the landscape. “What are you doing up here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Widowmaker’s resonant voice echoed back.
Sombra whipped her head back around, “I thought you slept like 20 hours a day.” Widowmaker was standing by the door, a hand on her hip as she looked out over the city, wearing shorts and a light tank top covered by a thick sweater, and her hair for once hung loosely around her shoulders, the long, straight strands getting caught on her lips as the wind picked up a little bit. Sombra looked away again as soon as she noticed the red thigh tattoo.
“That’s… sort of true,” Widow relented after a moment with a note of dolefulness tinging her voice. “I sleep a lot but not well.” Her light footsteps on the gravel alerted Sombra that she was coming closer. “What are you doing up here?” Widowmaker asked again, now standing next to her.
Sombra glanced up, catching herself admiring the long legs that towered over her, and then shrugged. “Had to get out of there,” away from you, you cabrón! “And I miss, you know, not feeling caged all the time.”
“Oui,” Widowmaker nodded and then lowered herself down on the edge of the roof next to Sombra. She seemed to be chewing on her next sentence, as she looked down into the alleyway, and then back up across the cityscape. Finally she turned towards Sombra, “Why are you here?”
Sombra did a double take, “Uh… cariña, you already asked that….”
Widowmaker sighed deeply, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I mean with Talon, petit malin.”
“Oh,” Sombra lifted her lip in annoyance at the obvious insult that she didn’t know the meaning of. “Oh you know, bucket list.” She shrugged again and looked away.
There was a pause, and then to Sombra’s surprise, Widowmaker snorted. Sombra glanced back over, and dropped her hands down behind her with a grin. Widowmaker covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she chuckled a little more,as if she was trying to hide it, and then turned back towards Sombra, her smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” She said in only what could be construed as robotic but Sombra was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a ruse. Widowmaker had been different since the successful assassination mission. She had been even faster in practice, but slept more than before. While her mood had been one of disdain, and cold disapproval of everything Sombra did after the mission, she now seemed to be returning to the slightly softer version of herself, whatever soft meant to the sniper. Widow looked back over the horizon, and dangled her long legs over the low and eroding parapet, and gripped the edge. “But you seem to really despise working for Moira.”
“Despise is a strong word,” Sombra swiped her hand as if wiping the word away. “I would say I’m very distrustful of people, in general.”
“Am I included?” Widow asked, tilting her head with a smirk.
Sombra looked at her in mock shock. “¡Obviamente! I don’t know why Moira treats you the way she does but my guess is that she has you wrapped around her little finger, and you’ll probably run to her as soon as you leave this roof to tell her all about our conversation. That, or you’re wearing a very cleverly disguised wire right now.” Sombra raised an eyebrow at Widow’s exposed legs.
She didn’t get another chuckle from Widowmaker after these statements. Instead, Widow looked away, pulled her hair behind her ear and furrowed her brow. Hm, maybe too close to home?
“Why are you up here, araña?” Sombra asked again sullenly. She drew up her knees and rested her chin on her arms.
“Don’t call me that,” Widowmaker spat. Then sighed, “I heard you sneaking out and my curiosity got the better of me.”
Widowmaker’s yellow eyes snapped towards Sombra for a brief second before she looked away again. “I’m not spying on you.”
Sombra huffed a laugh. “Sure you aren’t. De todas formas… it’s not like I would be able to stop you.”
“Your training?” Widowmaker asked into the wind. “You are shit at fighting.”
“It’s true,” Widowmaker looked sardonically down at Sombra. “You never focus. Il suffit de fermer la bouche de temps en temps.”
“What?” Sombra blinked.
Widowmaker sighed again, “You just need to stop talking so much.”
“I would have you know, chica, my mouth has gotten me out of a lot of situations,” Sombra puffed up.
“And gotten you in some.”
They sat in silence again. Sombra could not fathom why Widowmaker was sitting on the roof with her, why this demonstration of Moira’s megalomania was spending any extra breath on her, when she had been so distant and harsh after the mission. Sombra felt as if she was precariously balanced between a murderous sniper and a despondent sleeper agent. Finally she gave in.
“Alright, then I could use some help,” She asked, a blush rushing into her cheeks out of embarrassment. She never asked for help! She always figured this shit out on her own, what was she thinking?
“You’re too stiff,” Widowmaker immediately said.
“First of all, I am extremely flexible,” Sombra said defensibly. “Secondly, I didn’t ask for a critique!”
Widowmaker scowled, “And your attitude needs to be taken down several levels.”
“Anything else?” Sombra asked sarcastically.
“It probably actually does you good to be thrown around,” Widowmaker put a finger up to her mouth in a mock thinking pose. “It’s the only time I can have silence around you.”
“Okay, seriously? What is your problem with me?” Sombra stood up angrily and stepped away from the edge of the roof. She wasn’t going to be berated by Widowmaker or anyone. She shouldn’t feel this shitty about asking for help, it wasn’t like she was lowering any defenses that Widowmaker couldn’t already see. Great, now she was getting frustrated with herself.
Widowmaker turned to watch Sombra march across the roof, “My problem is that you think you are so special, so above your paygrade that you have no time to consider the team.”
“Didn’t realize you even wanted me on your team,” Sombra spat.
“Not if you are ineffective, and an idiot,” Widowmaker sighed into the wind, looking away. “I should have pushed you out of the plane when I had the chance.” Sombra felt a hot flash of anger course through her, right up her spine. This puta really went there, didn’t she? Sombra marched back to the edge of the roof stared down at the back of Widow’s head, her mind growing foggy with anger. Widowmaker turned her head just slightly, and sneered. “Are you going to do anything about it?”
Sombra felt like she was on speed or something because the next think she knew, she put her foot squarely between Widowmaker’s shoulder blades and held it there. The only motion Widowmaker made was to tighten her grip on the edge of the roof as she looked over the city. Sombra held her breath, her focus returning and she stared down at the dangerous position she had Widowmaker in. She would have thought it would feel good to be in control of Widow, but… it didn’t feel good at all.
There was a heartbeat pause, and then Sombra was thrown back across the roof, and felt her knees split open on the gravel as she skidded to a stop. Somehow she had managed to stay somewhat upright, with only one hand stopping her from doing a full faceplant. Widowmaker stood on the edge of the roof and Sombra was struck by how scary she looked in that moment. Her hair blew in the wind, her hands curled into fists, her eyes were sparking. Was that an emotion beyond annoyance?
“You know,” Sombra laughed nervously, standing back up and brushing the dust from her sweater. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Of course,” Widowmaker hissed, and stepped off the edge and towards Sombra. Ok, maybe Sombra really was never in control of the situation. Widowmaker strode quickly and closed the space between them, and bent her head. Sombra could almost feel her breath on her skin, they were so close… Widowmaker licked her lips quickly. “Nice recovery.”
Sombra blinked, and took a step back with her hands up between them, “Was that a compliment? I’m shocked!”
Widowmaker’s face was a mask once again, and she folded her arms, watching as Sombra backed up. “But you are still too stiff, no follow through.”
Sombra dropped her hands and frowned, “And here I was thinking we were making progress.”
“That anger you felt,” Widowmaker said and folded her arms across her chest as she eyed Sombra’s bloody kneecap. “You need to tap into that more often.”
“Wait, you didn’t mean those things you said?” Sombra blinked, her shoulders falling.
Widowmaker gave her a scathing look. “I do find you annoying to no end, but you did good that last mission. I wouldn’t kill you. Unless of course, you betrayed us.”
“That’s… comforting,” Sombra narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t sure she was understanding what was happening between them. “I thought you told me emotions make me weak? Pathetic.”
Widow tapped her foot impatiently in the gravel. “You said you were worried about me. We shouldn’t put cares onto people that will ultimately be sacrificed for the cause.”
“The cause….” Sombra shivered in the warm night air.
“Anger is useful,” Widowmaker shrugged. “It focuses you to survive and react.”
Sombra stood in stony silence.
“You need to find a rhythm,” Widowmaker finally stated.
“I’ve got rhythm,” Sombra said defensibly. “What’s yours?”
There was another brief pause, and Widow licked her lips again, and looked away from Sombra. There was that moment where Widowmaker held back her words, deciding how much she should reveal, and Sombra studied the ticks and tells of Widowmaker’s eye movements, the way her nails dug into her arm, all within a fraction of a second. “Ballet,” She shrugged. “Muscle memory from years of practice is hard to shake.”
Sombra widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, we’re talking about that now,” She tried to say as coolly as possible, but Widowmaker shot her an angry glare. Sombra cleared her throat and turned away, flashing her nails in the starlight in a small noncommittal wave. “I was pretty good at dance, shuffle, hip hop, etcetera. Los Muertos was pretty pointless most of the time, but they knew how to throw parties.”
“Los Muertos?” Widowmaker repeated.
“Did Moira not give you a file on me or what?” Sombra looked back over her shoulder at Widowmaker. “I was in una pandilla, a gang.” Widowmaker shrugged in disinterest. “Anyway, I definitely have a rhythm.”
“Those dances don’t involve a partner,” Widowmaker pointed out. “With hand-to-hand, you always have at least one partner, if not more.”
“Here,” Suddenly Widowmaker raised her arms up and settled herself into the traditional pose of… No, this wasn’t happening right now. Sombra involuntarily took another step back and stumbled over the rocks a little.
“You’re joking right? This has got to be a joke,” She couldn’t help the ridiculous giggle that escaped her throat, and she covered her mouth with her fingers. “I am not dancing with you.”
Widowmaker’s arms dropped a little as she rolled her whole head in frustration, but then she resituated herself, giving Sombra a meaningful look. “See me as a partner, not the enemy and things will get easier for you.”
“This feels like it’s material for blackmail later,” Sombra muttered. The wind picked up again, and Widowmaker raised her eyebrows. “Fine.” Sombra shook her hair out of her eyes and stepped close and put one of her hands in Widow’s and the other on her shoulder, as Widowmaker loosely draped her arm around Sombra’s waist. “I still feel like this is pointless,” Sombra couldn’t help the twitch of her mouth as she looked down at their feet. With no music, Widowmaker set the pace. It was slow but not sensual. They stepped together as she closely watched their feet.
“Watch me, not where you are going,” Widowmaker commanded, and Sombra instantly looked up, her chest hitching. This wasn’t happening. “If you aren’t sure of your own footing, then you won’t anticipate me.” This was a dream. “You need to see the steps before they occur.” This was so fucked up.
Sombra stared into Widowmaker’s yellow eyes, and Widow didn’t waver, instead she stared steadily back, unblinking. Sombra’s heart was up in her throat and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little queasy. They continued stepping to each other’s beat, and Sombra unconsciously squeezed Widow’s hand.
Widowmaker’s whole face spasmed.
“¿Estás bien?” Sombra asked. “What’s happening?”
Widowmaker dropped Sombra’s hand and stepped away, and for the first time she looked scared. Her breathing was ticking up in speed, her chest was heaving so hard it was visibly making her collarbones move. She kept stepping backwards, but in a disoriented manner, and she stumbled over her own heels.
“Widow?” Sombra wanted to kick herself for the concern that came through her voice. She reached forward, but Widowmaker slapped her hand away. Her eyes were wild. What the hell was happening? Was she about to have a meltdown?
“Let’s get you back to your room,” Sombra motioned towards the trapdoor, and watched cautiously as Widow nodded and headed back towards the door, her breathing starting to slow once again.
They walked silently down the stairs, Widowmaker stopping once to put her hand to her head. Sombra wanted to reach out and support her, but she knew Widow would push her away, want to stand on her own. They finally made it back to her room and she opened the door and turned to shut it.
Sombra put her hand on the doorknob to stop her from shutting it all the way. “Guess I messed up your rhythm.”
Widowmaker bit her lip, looking Sombra up and down and then shut the door between them quietly.
The next morning, Moira sent them a briefing on their next mission. Volskaya Industries to take out Katya Volskaya. Sombra would be on the ground.