Chapter Text
The two flew in silence for the first few hundred miles, both startled with what just happened. Freja knew they'd escape; they both had more experience than Vendetta and her new Talon recruits. People weren't exactly lining up to work for the criminal terrorist organization, only radicalized rookies.
And the two of them, apparently.
Freja could tell Emre was building himself up to say something; the tension in his shoulders and neck gave it away as he sat at the cockpit. She watched him for a moment, eyes trailing over his hair, still tussled and messy from the rude awakening she had given him.
Never once did he truly complain or whine. He followed her with very little persuasion; he was still loyal to the people he wanted to protect no matter what. Freja smiled at the thought and sat on the floor in the back of the aircraft, the crossbow beside her outstretched legs.
“You said you visited my parents.” He spoke, finally, voice low and accent thicker than normal. Emre's eyes didn't falter from the dark night sky ahead, focused on piloting them to safety. Talon would probably follow them; they needed to keep their headstart while they still could.
More than once. More than a visit. She occupied his empty seat at the table, so his poor parents didn't have to feel so alone anymore. "Yeah," she told him. She was angry, not at him, but that he'd been alive and running around the world possessed while his parents prayed that he was safe. That he'd come back, and they could see him again alive.
Emre fell quiet for a moment, pondering over her single-word reply. “How are they?” He hadn't seen them in almost ten years; he'd left with little warning, just telling them he had other jobs lined up across the world. He was smart and successful; his parents worried but knew he was capable.
What would they think to see him now?
“They miss you.” Freja rose from her spot on the floor, moving to stand behind him and the pilot's chair. Her hand rested along the edge of the chair, fingertips just barely grazing across his shoulder. She stared at them, where she gently touched them. “All they want to know is that you're safe. Your father told me he'd take a bounty put on you himself if he could outbid Max.” She laughed dryly at the memory, though it really wasn't something she found funny. They were sick with worry.
He swallowed hard, unable to pull his gaze from the clouds to look her in the eye. “Did you call them?” He watched her shake her head out the corner of his eye, a heavy sigh leaving him afterwards. “How am I supposed to face them like this, Frej? I am barely the son they raised. Not the passionate, kind, protective man they tried to raise. I hurt people now.”
“We all have. The world isn't the same place anymore. With Talon and Null Sector, you've lived through war. Took the tough jobs.” Freja moved her hand further up his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. This time, at least, he reacted, melting into her touch ever so slightly. She felt the way his neck muscles relaxed under her battle-hardened hands.
He laughed, a little forced, but it was a laugh. “I guess. Looks like there's another brewing too; hopefully Overwatch doesn't shoot us down when they see a Talon ship inbound. We're close to the Watchpoint.”
Right. Freja slid into the co-pilot's seat right behind him, surveying the control panel in front of them. “We need to send a message.”
“Better make it fast.” He tapped one of the panels with his finger, barely sparing it a glance. On the face was a messy, glitching topographic map with a few unnamed pinged locations.
She never had the patience to understand how to really work this machine, but she was glad that he had. “Tell me when to transmit.”
Again, he only laughed. More amused this time, at least. “Better start now, we're getting in range. We don't want them to send Winston up after us. What a mess; at least they might recognize you.”
Above the two of them, a headset hung on a peg, curled and tangled chords connecting it to the control panel. She pulled it on, adjusting it so she could hear and speak easily. As if he could read her mind or was incredibly tuned into her even while flying, he flipped a switch on the panel and pointed out a button. “You're on the air. Press that to talk; any local radio channels will pick you up.”
Blue-painted nails held the button down, making up the words as she went along. Surely, there was a protocol to this, but she didn't care to know what the proper terminology was. “This is Freja Skov; with Emre Sarioglu, we're flying in on a stolen Talon jet. Do not shoot us down. I repeat, this is former agent Freja Skov, with former private Emre Sarioglu. Do not shoot us down! We come in peace.”
Beside her, Emre snickered at her; she kicked him in the leg under the panel to shut him up.
It was late, and she almost didn't expect any kind of response other than a missile strike or a giant flying gorilla with a canon. Who was even awake at this hour? Did they have someone manning the Watchpoint? Did they have enough men for that?
The speakers in the aircraft cracked to life, a static voice playing through them. “Freja?” It asked, and she'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Freja, if that's really you, you need to prove it's you now. How can we trust you?”
Vivain’s voice was clear as ever; it didn't sound like it had changed. “Former SAR agent Freja Skov and former Strike Team member Emre Sarioglu. We just left Talon's base in Rome; we stole one of their ships. They're going to be coming after us. We need help, and we're warning you now that Talon is coming.” Her voice did not waiver as she laid out the honest truth to Vivian, unsure of what else to say. Emre fell silent beside her again, and she almost wished he had something to say.
“Land at the landing pad; a team will come and search the ship.” Vivian's voice sounded tired; Freja probably woke her up now too.
Emre slowed the ship as they came closer to Overwatch HQ, slowly beginning their descent down to the base.
All night, she'd been anxious and stressed, but now it felt like it was bubbling over. She hadn't seen these people since the fall, since they were all investigated and the government ordered their disbandment. For Emre, it had been longer. He knew something had been brewing and left before it could all blow up in his face. He'd always been so intuitive.
Freja cast another glance over at him; his expression was focused but calm. He didn't furrow his brows or bite at his lip. She missed that look on his face, the determination, the knowing, and the quiet confidence. He never bragged, but he always knew what he was doing. Never second-guessing anything. It had always been admirable; she knew the others had always looked up to that quality in him.
With a quiet exhale, Emre landed the ship on the ground with minimal jerking and jostling of its two passengers. Freja rose to her feet immediately; Emre sat in his seat for a minute. Another deep breath in, she watched that awful eye on his chest rise with each breath, the synthetic pupil flickering around like it was truly alive.
“What do I tell them?” He asked her, slowly rising to his feet, like he could put it off longer if he just moved at a snail's pace.
Her blue eyes scanned his face, warm brown eyes traced with smudged kohl, his messy, disorganized wavy hair, and his unshaven face. He didn't look worse, not to her. He'd always been so well kept, short hair and clean-shaven, that at first it had been surprising to see him this way. Now she was growing fond of it, as much as she'd refuse to admit it. “The truth.” She shrugged, pressing the button on the wall to open the doors.
Dramatically, they dropped with a hiss, steam rolling out as the hatch opened for their exit. Freja scooped up her bow, slinging it over her back, and excited first, Emre following behind, his gaze held low.
As they stepped out into the night sky, three figures stood in front of them. Lena was immediately recognized, a hopeful expression on her face as she was met with familiar companions. Genji, dressed in full suit and armor, with his mask covering his face and hiding his expression. And Cassidy, whose eyes slipped right past Freja and landed right on Emre. They watched the cowboy as his glance fell lower, his expression twisting into something awful as his eyes landed on the eye.
Cassidy's eyes landed right back on Emre's, flickering between he and Freja. “What is that?”