Chapter Text
The first time she saw her she was floating in a pod. That was a lie, a half-truth. Sombra has seen her before certainly, on grainy television screens, in the lines of a dossier, under the whispered breaths of frightened men. It was only the first time in the flesh however, though saying ‘only’ was putting it lightly. There was nothing small about the whole event. Nothing that dignified labelling it ‘only’.
After all, this was the spider who shot Mondatta dead between the eyes with the trajectory aimed straight through the chest of another. This was the spider that slaughtered their own beloved, which did so while wearing the face of a smiling lover. She couldn’t fathom what must have went through Agent Lacroix’s mind as he was stabbed to death by the woman he promised his life too. She doesn’t think that was what the oath he swore was intended for, but life could always be counted on for cruel and unusual twists of tragic irony.
Sombra took a step closer, propelled forward by fascination and waded slowly through the inky dark of the room. She’s heard rumors of how the sniper spent her downtime and now was an opportune time as any to see if there was any truth to them.
She stared unblinkingly at Widowmaker. The woman was naked, naked as the day she was born and hair splayed like tendrils of an urchin as she floated, held in suspension in viscous fluid by a steel helmet fixed upon her head. Hanging limp as a carcass in her chamber, Sombra would have believed her to actually be one of the dead if it weren’t for the beeps of the machine lying beside, registering the slowest of heartbeats that came from her listless form.
Too transfixed with the woman before her, Sombra failed to notice the wraith that slithered into the room until it was too late. She only had time for one last idle thought before everything went black.
Did the woman dream?
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The second time she saw her was from the view of a lumpy mattress, head hurting and wrists chained to the guard railings of an old hospital bed, a complete role reversal of her in confines and Widowmaker free. She was standing in front of her with her back on the wall, arms crossed and a steady and sharp gaze trained fully on her. Sombra’s addled and traitorous brain’s first thought was how piercing and pretty her golden eyes were.
“This is an awful amount of information on Vishkar.”
Sombra became aware there was another occupant in the room and turned her head, wincing slightly as the throbbing of her temples sharpened from that gentle act. She blinked a few times before scrunching them. The room was too fucking bright. She lifted her hand to her head – or attempted too, before she remembered that thick chains were bound to her wrists. She huffed.
Fucking shit.
“That’s mine.” She grunted and hated how hoarse her voice was. She needed a drink. “Don’t touch it.”
“I hardly believe this information is yours.”
Sombra stared at the woman, squinting. Tall, lean – her eyes shifted down to her hands and the talons that grew out of one of them – her eyes widened, because okay, what the fuck was that? Once she regained her bearings she gave the woman a slow onceover, at her clothes to her manner.
“You a… doctor?”
The woman blinked then smirked. “More of a scientist. Geneticist, to be exact.”
Sombra’s eyes flitted downwards to the weird hand again. She bit her tongue and physically refrained on making a comment that the woman should find a new area of expertise, because how good could she be with those kind of results? Those pulsing veins weren’t helping her case either.
The woman then stood up, lurching to her full height and started to walk to the door, her files printed in hand.
“Hey- wait!” Sombra called out, nostrils flaring. “That’s mine!”
The woman paid her words no mind and swiftly left her field of vision. Sombra cursed and reared her head back, hitting her wounded scalp to the headboard. She cursed some more and hissed, both in pain and aggravation. With a grunt she began to pull at her restraints, hoping to worm her wrists out as she needed to get the fuck out of here.
“Do not.”
Her head snapped up at the sudden order. She raised a brow and forced a light grin.
“You’re still here, arana?”
Widowmaker didn’t deign her a response more than a light scoff. Sombra waited for a minute or two, letting the silence fester until she realized the woman really wasn’t actually going to say anymore. She herself scoffed. “Are you seriously just going to be watching me for the rest of the time?”
Her words were coated with a thin layer of anger. An anger that came not from being ignored, but from the larger issue of being trapped like a rat and having her files she so carefully curated in somebody else’s hands. She worked hard to get those documents.
“Well?”
No response.
Sombra grumbled and sighed, shoulders deflating. “Fine. You do you. Maybe, I don't know," an idea filtered into her head. "Maybe I’ll watch you too.” She stated, a purposefully scheming inflection placed at the end. To her utter disappointment, Widowmaker still didn’t react. She huffed again. Well, she tried and with another long-suffering sigh, Sombra adjusted in her seat and got herself comfortable with the silence.
She stared back at Widowmaker and pursed her lips as she traced her figure.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Widowmaker on stage. She knew of her past, of who Amelie Lacroix was and her grace on wooden floorboards, twisting and turning and leaping with the gentle candor of what people imagined angels to move with. Ballet dancing and sniping weren’t two things that went hand-in-hand in anyone’s mind, but ballerinas could glide along a floor without a sound and move with effortless ease. Perhaps Talon had known exactly what they were doing when they chose to use Amelie Lacroix of all people to inflict irreparable damage on Overwatch.
“Does it hurt, by the way?” Sombra asked. She drummed the railings and fidgeted. Long silences were never her style. Widowmaker’s only reaction was a slight flash of confusion, a furrow of the brows. “Being in the recalibration chamber thing of yours, I mean?”
Widowmaker’s eyes flashed and her scowl deepened. Sombra furrowed her brows and blanched, wondering what on earth offended her about that question. It wasn’t like she asked how it felt to kill her own husband. She scooted as far back on the bed as she could as Widowmaker made a move to stalk forward, teeth gnashing. It would be a lie to say she wasn't a little bit worried.
“Hey now. What I do-”
Heavy footfalls turned her attention away from the snarling woman (oh thank god, other people!) and in a matter of moments the door to the room slid open. Sombra immediately sat straighter in the bed, instinctively preparing herself for what may come as she found herself to be in the presence of the leader of Talon himself, the geneticist right beside.
“Ah, you are awake.” Akande said as he stepped closer and took a seat beside her, one hand on his lap, the other smoothly taking the information she gathered from the scientist-woman. “How are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?”
“Not. At. All.” She responded as sarcastically as she could. “Were you the one who knocked me out?”
Akande laughed at her inquiry, straight from the belly, the kind where his shoulders started to shake, his roar bouncing around the room. He shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye, muttering something or other in Yoruba through grinning teeth.
“Ms. Olivia-” Her eyes narrowed and she felt herself go tense. How the fuck does he know her real name- “Do you really think you would be alive if I was the one to bash your head?”
Akande started to flex the fingers that resided in his gauntlet to prove his point and the heavy clinks of metal never seemed so daunting to Sombra. Up close and personal, his fist was the most intimidating thing Sombra had seen in a while.
“I guess not.” She muttered, blaming the fact that she had woken up from forced slumber for that silly a question. She tacked on a smile of her own. “Anyways, I don’t suppose you can let me go?”
Akande did not answer her, instead his attention had turned elsewhere. He was rifling through the files of information she compiled on Vishkar and every attempt to get his attention was met with more silence. She scoffed and then shifted her focus to the other occupants of the room, partly from boredom and partly to scope out her options. She frowned as the geneticist had busied herself with reorganizing a few folders on a high shelf, easily reaching the files without a need for a step ladder.
Huh, the woman was far taller than she assumed.
She turned her sights back on Widowmaker. Her snarl was gone and on her face was that dead expression once more. Sombra frowned. It was a pity that Akande came when he did, now that she thought about it. Part of her would've liked to see what would’ve happened next, to understand what exactly she had said to piss the woman off so much. They always said she was without emotion, but that was definitely an emotion.
“You do good work.” Akande said as he snapped the files shut in one smooth motion.
She faced him again, not bothering to hide her confusion. “Uhh… thank you?”
“Why don’t you work for us?”
She recoiled. “I’m sorry?”
Akande crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, a pompous smirk on his lips, and an irritating lift of one of his brows. He shrugged nonchalantly, reveling in her stupor. “You heard me. Work for us. We could use somebody with your set of skills. It’s your choice – either join us or we kill you.”
A shiver went up her spine from how easily that threat left his lips, like he was saying something mundane, like offering a choice between drinking orange or apple juice. She wet her lips. “…You do realize I was here trying to procure Talon information, right?”
“Of course. I am not a fool. Question is, are you?”
“I’m no fool.” She bit out testily and threw the question back. “Question is, are you?”
He chuckled again. “What a feisty woman. Tell me, why do you hesitate? There is no downside for you. You get to live, you get to learn about Talon, and you get our resources.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to join.” She huffed. “I am totally in, considering the other option is death.”
“Perfect.”
Akande bent over at unlocked her cuffs. She rubbed at her tender wrists, bewildered by the chain of events. She quirked a brow at him. “Wow that easy, huh? Can I just say I’m not really following why you’re taking a chance on me? I mean, what makes you so sure you’re not going to regret this?”
He stood up, file under his arm and smiled at her, genuine mirth in his eyes.
“You? Get the slip on me?” He barked yet another laugh as he walked back out of the room. “I’d like to see you try.” He challenged, before completely leaving her sight and something akin to a bristle of excitement stirred in her at this man’s utmost confidence of his control over the situation.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She grinned out then looked at Widowmaker. She smiled wider and waved. “Hey, great news! We're working together now.” She said jovially, twiddling her fingers for good measure. “That means no killing me, right-”
Widowmaker walked out of the room before she got the chance to finish her sentence. Sombra's smile slipped for a moment before her lips curled into a massive grin. Yet another challenge right there. She scratched her nose. A pretty challenge.
“Apologies for her." The geneticist said as she took a seat beside her. "She does that.”
“She often gets temper tantrums, hmmm?” Sombra joked, cocking her head at the geneticist. She extended her hand. “I’m Sombra, by the way – case you didn’t realize.”
The woman smiled.
“Dr. Moira O’Deorain.” She said slowly as she pumped her hand twice and Sombra was glad that her right hand wasn’t all weird, because even the nails of this hand dug into her and got uncomfortably close to drawing blood. “A pleasure.”
“Uh-huh. Right. Dr. Moira.” She banked that name in her memory, vowing to do a bit of research on her new coworker. “Hope we get along, doc.”
“Oh, I think we will.”
Sombra’s smile turned stiff. She wasn’t sure about the sincerity in her words as everything coming out the woman’s mouth seemed to have a sardonic and mildly off-putting tone to it, but better make friends than enemies from the get go, right?
“Cool.”
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Sombra found her footing in Talon easily enough. As the months went by, she ingratiated herself rather perfectly amongst their ranks, her skills highly valued and appreciated for their many underworld dealings and infiltration missions. Plus, there wasn’t too much of a difference between Talon and the former gangs, clubs and entourages she’d ran with in the past, she quickly learned. At the end of the day, it really was the same shit under a different banner. Nothing wildly different from anything she had experienced before-
With one small exception.
“Ah, my favorite spider.” She said loudly as she noticed Widowmaker, not missing a beat as the woman in question started to walk faster. “In a hurry, are we?” She yelled at her quickly disappearing frame. “I wonder what sort of web you’re spinning now. Thinking up new plans for the next mission, perhaps? I could help.”
Widowmaker stopped and turned, cool eyes set on her immediately and she had to resist the urge to shiver from the look. Guess the dramatic and poorly done Shakespearean voice was too much even for her to ignore.
The woman walked with one foot in front of the other, coming to her in a way that reminded Sombra of the way a jaguar crawled to its prey. Sombra kept her smile in place and showed no sign that she felt a bit bad for what she did. She just couldn’t help it. As much as she knew she shouldn’t be having so much fun teasing the poor woman, especially after last mission’s failure, there was something though about seeing her nostrils flare and see a flit of expression instead of a dead and blank look on her visage that made her unable to stop.
And besides-
She couldn’t help gulp as Widowmaker stalked forward and became barely a breath’s away as she towered over her, lion eye’s alight and mouth practically a snarl.
-Widowmaker was simply one of those people who looked devastating when they were angry.
She really just couldn’t help herself.
“It’d be a shame if something happened to you on our next mission.” Widowmaker said testily, breaking her out of her internal thoughts. She leaned in closer and Sombra smelled traces of plum. Had she been eating them or was this her perfume? Her eyes narrowed and flashed and Sombra knew she must’ve seemed wholly distracted. Widowmaker slammed her hand next to her head and got impossibly closer. Sombra gulped again. “A. Real. Pity.” She finished, words oozing with venom.
“I-”
Widowmaker turned before she could say anymore and went back her merry way, as if the whole exchange hadn’t even happened. Sombra let the rest of her sentence die off and simply watched, standing in place and watched her go, a smile on her face and spirit fully renewed.
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“Arana!” She greeted as she stepped onto the plane and unceremoniously plopped herself right beside Widowmaker. She tilted her head up and flashed her teeth. “Another day, another mission, huh?”
Widowmaker looked at her for a brief moment then turned away. Sombra shrugged, paying the slight no mind. Despite the many months she has been in Talon by now, they have yet to be on a lot of missions together yet. It made sense she hadn’t been able to build a rapport yet. Things would change once they have, she was sure of it.
“Who knows~” She mumbled out, eyes crinkling as Widowmaker’s eyes flitted back to her, the spot of interest fueling her next words. “Maybe Akande will see how well we work together and soon enough, we’ll be partners for every mission. Wouldn’t that just be great?”
Her face didn’t change, but Sombra swears her eyes hardened. Without a single word Widowmaker unclipped her seatbelt, stood up and moved to sit beside Reaper. Sombra scratched her head and pursed her lips. She was expecting something a little more than such a lukewarm response, at least a growl or maybe a snippy response back. Like throw a girl a bone.
But, it’s alright, Sombra reasoned internally, they still had the rest of the mission to get closer.
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For a top of the line security firm, Helix-guarded facilities sure was easy to infiltrate. A pleased smirk broke out as with a few taps on the screen the oh-so-trained personnel followed the red herring she had formulated. She did a small jig of triumph as they all trailed through the hallway to a room that a break-in was certainly not occurring –Reaper was slinking in from the opposite end– will get stuck in due to ‘door malfunction’.
“Emergency. Possible breach in the east wing.”
“Copy that.” Sombra affirmed. “Loud and clear. Assistance will come soon.”
“Roger that.”
She let out a happy sigh as they fell for it. Nothing beat a smoothly pulled off mission. Good thing she had intercepted their feeds weeks ago and installed her bug in their latest software update. She watched as Gabriel choked out the two guards who stayed behind, silencing them in less than two breaths. She clicked her tongue. Helix should seriously focus on training their personnel to be more vigilant. Granted, she was an incredible hacker and Gabi was good at his job, but this was sloppy work.
She propped her feet on the dashboard and crossed her arms.
From what she has experienced firsthand, it felt like the only competent members of Helix were those in their Raptora program. The child of Ana Amari gave her quite a run for the money the last time they clashed, anyways. Woman wasn’t too happy with her presence. So maybe it was her fault, maybe she shouldn’t have tried to sneak into Anubis and perhaps she shouldn’t have let that careless insinuation of why she never got the call for Overwatch slip as the woman was firing rockets at her.
Not the wisest move on her part, in hindsight. Still, nothing she said was untrue, was it?
“-ombra. Sombra!” Widowmaker was glaring up at the surveillance camera from where she stood. “Are you listening?”
She sat up quickly and trained her gaze on the left screen. “Oh, hey arana. Yeah. Yup. I’m listening.”
“Well?”
Sombra smiled dumbly. “Um.... Yes?”
Widowmaker scoffed, rolling her eyes in disgust.
“This is why I detest working with you. What has you distracted this time?” Widowmaker hissed.
“Those golden hues of yours, like always.” Sombra joked and took a loud sip of her drink as Widowmaker softly cursed under her breath and resolutely turned away from the camera. Her eyes crinkled. So fun to tease. “Are you mad at me?”
“Sombra.” Reaper chimed in the intercom, raspy and ragged, with an obvious undercurrent of a warning lacing his tone. “You’re supposed to be our eyes and-” He knocked out another guard- “our ears.” The smoke that wisps off his forms gnarled further. “Be. Serious. This is a mission.”
“Alright, alright.” She rolled her eyes. “Geez, it’s like you all can’t do anything without me.”
Reaper growled again. “Sombra.”
“Imbecile.” Widowmaker cursed with a shake of her head, before flicking on her visor and taking position.
Sombra cackled (“Love you guys too!” She shouted in the comms) and scooched closer to the monitors as she saw that somehow backup had arrived. Her cheeky smile dropped. That was more backup than she thought would come. She put her fingers to work. Luckily there was a whole room of decommissioned droids Helix kept in the facility that she could access to help her with the trouble.
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When she was trying to figure out a way for to get closer to Widowmaker, being carried by the woman wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but beggars can’t be choosers and this was a scenario she definitely didn’t mind. She clung onto Widowmaker tight as she swung them to safety.
“My hero.” She sang as she held on, wishing in the back of her mind to have worn something better suited for the winter chill. Though compared to Widowmaker’s outfit, she supposed she shouldn’t complain. “A hero always has to wear spandex, huh?”
“Silence.”
Sombra laughed. “What? I’m thanking you.”
They landed on top of a decrepit building, or rather Widowmaker did as Sombra was nestled safely in her arms.
“Don’t get used to this.” The woman warned.
“To what? You telling me not to get used to being in your arms-”
She fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap as Widowmaker dropped her and walked off to the side and pulled out her radio, presumably to relay to support to pick them up probably. With a grunt Sombra got up and dusted off her pants with her hands. She then stood up and stretched, staring into the horizon and breathing deeply the fresh air. Despite the stumble at the end and Widowmaker needing to carry her to safety, she’d say the mission went pretty well.
“At this rate, maybe they’ll put us together from now on.” She chuckled to herself.
Truthfully speaking, she liked working with Widowmaker. She found that though the woman looked ready to maim her if she so heard her breathe into the intercom, the woman was fastidious and listened to every command she had. Whether it was trust or by habit didn’t matter to Sombra. It was nice having someone who didn’t second-guess her judgment on the job. She liked to have fun, not die. She didn’t understand why that was so difficult for some people to comprehend.
“I hope not.”
She smiled brighter, not expecting a response. Widowmaker’s furrowed her brows, perplexed and Sombra couldn’t blame her. She was almost sure that to the woman she was a freak for being happy about her frosty responses, but it was genuinely nice to Sombra to see any reaction than no reaction.
And if they were partners, Sombra could see even more.
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Moira adjusted her tie, fingers picking at the silk cotton carefully to tighten it around her neck, doing her best to ensure that she did not prick herself with her nails. She couldn’t die from small self-inflicted wounds by her left hand, but the sting was still painful and the nausea that came with abhorrent. She sighed. The cost of progress could truly be steep at times.
But, well, at least she didn’t come out of it a ghost.
Speaking of which, she should work on the new batch of coalescing pills for Gabriel soon. It has been some time since his last dosage and his state was becoming rather erratic as of late. Mood swings were starting to come frequently and the pain, as much as he tried to hide it, was becoming unbearable too she was sure. It was slightly frustrating that she had not found a way to permanently maintain his physical form at a decent level yet for prolonged periods of time. Frankly, her ego was starting to take a blow.
Giving her tie one final smooth down with her hand, Moira sauntered out of the room, intent to eat a small supper and perhaps prepare a pot of coffee for herself for what might be a long night in the laboratory. It was already late and of all the faces she thought she might see in the break room, Sombra was not one of them.
“Hey there.” She greeted with a wave, a bagel in her other hand as she sat on the countertop, legs swinging. “Coming to grab a bite?”
“Yes. We all have to eat sometime.” She answered as she opened the fridge and pulled out a pre-made container of pasta and started to eat it immediately, not bothering to heat it up. “It is rare for you to be here so late. Usually you are rather…. Busy, at night.”
She couldn’t definitively say exactly what Sombra did at night, however, considering that the woman was always pestering Lacroix during the day, the plethora of information she somehow sourced must have been achieved at other times, namely at night, she presumed.
“Well, sometimes we all need a small break.” Sombra said as she took another bite of her bagel. “How’s Widowmaker doing? Is she in recalibration? Want to tell me more about that process, by the way?”
“You never stop, do you?”
Moira smirked. Every single time they met the woman was always trying to turn over another stone, particularly when it came to Lacroix. Moira could understand the sentiment – that thirst for knowledge.
Knowledge was power, after all.
“I’ll stop when I get my answers, so c’mon doc, let’s not play the long game. Sooner or later I will get the information I want, whether from you or from my own powers.”
“Do you always do want?”
“I always get what I want.” Sombra corrected and Moira chuckled.
“I think I’ll play the long game.”
“Awww. You’re no fun.”
It was strange. She took a furtive glance at Sombra, now distracted by a likely illegal file she extracted that now lit up her holopad screen. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Sombra had read up on her and knew of the rumors that swirled around her. Yet, the woman didn’t seem to mind bothered by her at all, she didn’t even seem to be afraid of her and that was truly rare. It was a welcome change, at least from a woman who too, didn’t appear to let life’s silly rules get in the way of the bigger goal.
“Hey, Dr. Moira? I need a favor.” Sombra sounded out as she finished her pasta. Moira placed the empty container and fork into the sink as she waited for Sombra to speak again. “You got pull. Can you make it that Widowmaker is paired up with me for missions?”
Moira raised a brow. “Annoying her back at base isn’t enough?”
“No. Why? You can’t do it?”
Cheeky girl. Moira moved off to the side to make herself a large pot of coffee to bring to the laboratory. Honestly, no matter how many times she requested, nobody seemed to remember to fix the damn machine already in her space.
“You want me to orchestrate the two of you working together?”
“Yes.”
Moira hummed to herself. Though she hasn’t been actively following the drama back at base – she doesn’t have time for such trivial affairs – she has heard about how Sombra spends her time pestering Lacroix, trying to needle under her skin and see something more. Her ability to stay alive after annoying her has made her more popular amongst the lower ranking members and to Lacroix’s greater ire, made her seem less intimidating as Sombra continued to live even with all her tendencies to push at her buttons.
“I mean I could just wait for nature to works its course and bring us together again, but,” Sombra grinned. “Where’s the fun in playing fair? And I never liked to wait.”
Moira took a moment to consider the proposition carefully. It would be interesting. Lacroix as of late has been exhibiting behavior that was new for her and Sombra was definitely a key component in activating these never-before-seen modes of operation. She believed that two days ago was the first time she heard Lacroix engage to what could be considered banter with Sombra over the intercom. It was a peculiar phenomenon. Lacroix was usually was so composed and always left personal business at home. What little personal business she had, anyways. Going with current trends, it seemed personal business for Lacroix was really only Sombra nowadays.
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do - on one condition.”
“What?”
“Get the coffee machine in the laboratory working again for me, and I’ll do this for you.”
“Hah! Easy.”
In three days the coffee machine was not only fixed, but upgraded.
Moira made a suggestion to Akande the very next day.
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Widowmaker didn’t understand. She stared at the hacker.
At her new partner.
Permanent partner under this new initiative that Talon was trying.
Sombra’s only reaction to her clear puzzlement was to stare back, a wild and victorious grin on her face. Widowmaker’s eyes narrowed and a creeping feeling of suspicion came crawling in. The woman definitely had something to do with the new turn of events.