Chapter Text
“Tracer, don’t you dare run off to find that sniper again. We nearly lost you the last time.”
Lena huffed at Pharah’s words as she slid on her bracers, “Oh please, you wouldn’t get rid of me that easy, love. Besides, she means no harm; to me anyway. If she wanted me dead she wouldn’t miss me every time.”
“Lena,” a stern voice spoke from behind Fareeha’s shoulder, “I want you to stay where I can see you. It doesn’t matter if she hadn’t fatally shot you yet, that shouldn’t be a risk you’re willing to take.”
“But-”
Angela raised an eyebrow at her protest, silently daring the younger woman to argue with her again. Lena sighed and crossed her arms, pouting a little at the combat medic.
“Fine. Whatever you say, mum.”
“It’s my job to keep you safe, child,” Angela ignored the mocking tone in her words, “I can’t very well do that if you’re out of range chasing after a woman you know might as well be dead.”
“Angela...” Hana spoke up from where she was fiddling with the controls on her new black and gold Meka, “Don’t go there.”
Hana knew how sensitive a topic Amélie’s kidnapping and brainwashing was for Lena, even though it’d been years by then. Even though Tracer herself had seen what she had become; even though she was well aware that Amélie was gone and Widowmaker had taken her place. Hana had seen the way Lena mourned the loss of her friend, the woman she had silent feelings for. Hana hadn’t been there when it happened, didn’t even know Amélie before Gérard’s murder, but she had held Lena while she sobbed after the first time she met Widowmaker. For her, that was enough to break her heart.
Lena had gone silent at Angela’s words, her face held an annoyed look that didn’t quite reach her sad eyes. She just dipped her head in digression, brushing past Fareeha to go stand with Hana instead. Her friend gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her hand, launching into some excited ramble about her Mech’s new features in an attempt to distract Lena.
“Must you be so harsh with her?” Brigitte questioned softly while leaning closer to Angela, “She’s reckless, yes, but she’s a strong girl. Mentioning past trauma so bluntly like that will only make her more likely to defy you.”
“When’d you get so soft, kid?” Jack Morrison grumbled, “Let Angela do her job, pestering people is how she shows affection.”
Angela shrugged off her teammates’ input, already regretting the way she handled things with Lena. Though Lena called her mom as a joke, Mercy did feel like a mother figure to the younger woman. Really, she felt like that was just part of her job; the team mom. Back in the day, Lena would come to her about everything and never hide anything from Angela. However, as of late it felt like there was a rift between them and they would butt heads more often than not.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Habibti,” Fareeha’s low voice was gentle in her ear as she spoke the pet name warmly, “You didn’t mean to upset her like that. You two can work things out later, yes?”
Angela nodded, “I’ll speak with her after the mission. I really didn’t mean to bring it up like that... I sometimes forget how much it still hurts her.”
“You meant nothing malicious, Angela,” Pharah hummed in agreement, “It will be alright.”
“Thank you, Liebling,” Angela’s accent returned full force as she spoke in her mother tongue, “I do hope you’re right.”
“Landing in Paris in sixty seconds,” the robotic voice of Athena blared through the aircrafts speakers, “Prepare to attack.”
At the announcement of an ETA, Jack Morrison jumped back into his commander role. He started instructing people where to go and who to target, explaining once again the intent of this mission. Talon had taken some French diplomats hostage in a high rise building, ensuring maximum security would deter Overwatch from entering. That didn’t stop them, of course, and they had every intention of sending Talon scurrying home with their tails between their legs.
“Pharah, D.va, keep your eyes on the skies. Mercy, stay back and only jump it when necessary, I don’t have to remind you that healing is more important than fighting,” Angela nodded at his words, “Tracer, you’re on perimeter. Eliminate any enemies that threaten your teammates directly and keep them away from Mercy.”
“You got it, love,” Lena’s reply was missing her usual jovial giggle and happy tone, sounding more like it was said in Athena’s monotone accent.
Jack continued to ramble off orders, turning back to where Winston was operating the aircraft. He had offered the pilot’s chair to Lena before they left the watchpoint, but she had just offered him a nervous smile and a shake of her head. Planes weren’t bad anymore but flying them herself still sent her into intense panic attacks that even Angela had a hard time reversing. Even though it was years in the past, the Slipstream incident affected Lena more than she’d like to let on.
As Winston landed the plane, everyone got into position. Hana had gotten into her Mech, adjusting controls and testing her defence matrix. Brigitte was at her side, somehow still cracking jokes with the younger girl despite the dire mission.
Fareeha and Angela were speaking lowly to each other, making Lena smile despite herself when Angela adjusted Pharah’s hair under her helmet so it stayed out of her eyes. The two had clearly grown closer since Fareeha joined Overwatch and it was no secret that they were together at that point. There was always a certain softness between them, despite Fareeha’s gruffness and Angela’s no-nonsense attitude.
“Your accelerator is working fine?” Winston’s question broke Tracer from her thoughts, “No issues?”
“Right as rain, love,” Tracer promised, “Been ticking away as it should.”
“Good,” Winston nodded as he pocketed his glasses and nudged Lena forward, “Stay safe out there, Lena.”
“You too,” Tracer nodded just as the doors to the aircraft opened with Athena’s countdown.
“Tracer, keep your damn comm in your ear this time!” Soldier’s yell was barely heard over the sound of Hana’s meka as it’s rear boosters engaged and took her out into the sky. Lena flashed forward, quickly gaining distance between her and her team as she went to monitor the perimeter.
Winston took up the front, immediately storming the Talon base with everyone else close behind. Pharah and D.va had taken to the sky, though Hana quickly landed to assist the others. Tracer glanced behind her to keep an eye on Angela, who was hovering behind everyone with her Caduceus staff in hand.
“Mercy, I’m going ‘round back, let me know if you need me to recall back to you.”
“Affirmative,” Angela’s soft voice spoke in her ear, “I’ll be fine, Tracer.”
With that, Lena was off, making it to the back of the building in record time. She searched back entrances for any minor Talon agents, ensuring that she was alone. She secured the doors with the motion alarms Winston had given her, which would directly notify them if someone tripped the sensor. She was just about to go back to check on Angela when Hana’s slightly out of breath warning came through the comm.
“Sniper! Don’t get caught!”
Lena perked up a bit at that, so she did show up. She placed the last motion sensor absentmindedly and then glanced around her to ensure no one was around. Clearly someone knew of her intentions because her comm crackled with an incoming message again.
“Lena Oxton, don’t you da-”
Angela’s warning was cut off when Tracer yanked the earpiece out and let it drop into the strap of her accelerator. She checked the charge and saw the blinking 94%, immediately jumping forward in time to get to the roof quickly. She sent a silent apology to her teammates, especially Mercy, but told herself she was doing this to protect them.
“Cheers, love,” Lena giggled as she flashed forward to stand behind the willowy woman near the edge of the roof, “The cavalry’s here.”
She made no move to shoot and neither did the sniper, who instead turned to face her with a stoic expression, “Chérie.”
“Fancy seeing you here,” Tracer recalled backwards when Widowmaker took a step too close for her liking, “Almost thought Talon woulda given up on you. Fifty shots, one kill, eh?”
“Watch yourself, petite fille,” the way her voice litted when she spoke in her native tongue seemed so Amélie that Lena felt her heart clench painfully.
“Ah, just kidding around, love.” Lena giggles nervously as she rubbed at the back of her neck, “So what, I come all the way up here to see you, defying orders I might add; Mercy’s gonna have my arse, and you just wanna talk? No warning shot, no fist fight even? Have you lost your edge, dear Widowmaker?”
“Do you have a deathwish, mademoiselle Oxton?” The formal remark said in Amélie’s voice hurt more than she’d let on, “Is that what this is for you? Une rendez-vous avec la mort?”
“Aw, love, if I had known this was a date I would have dressed nicer,” Lena mused playfully, “Woulda brought you flowers or somethin’.”
Widowmaker sighed deeply, taking a step towards the small woman who was watching her with wide dark eyes behind her goggles. Her dancers legs gave her a lot of height on Tracer, making it so two large steps were all she needed to cross the distance between them.
Lena was a bit shocked when the distance between them shrunk so quickly that Widowmaker was almost immediately towering over her. She backed up a bit more only to be met with the wall of the storage container behind her, yelping a little at the contact.
“Oh? What’s this?” Widowmaker’s voice was mocking and a smirk played on her lips, “The mighty Tracer startled so easily? Not so confident when you can’t put distance between you and your enemies, huh, Chérie?”
“Oh, come off it,” Lena didn’t want to admit how unease those unreadable golden eyes made her, “You don’t scare me, love. No offense.”
Widowmaker hummed in thought before lifting her gun to tilt Lena’s chin up, forcing eye contact, “Is that so?”
“You haven’t killed me yet,” Lena murmured, “If you wanted me dead I would have been so ages ago. Either you’ve lost your touch, or I’ve grown on you.”
“Ah,” Widowmaker chuckled lowly, “Haven’t you ever seen a spider tease her prey before, chérie? Killing you immediately would take all the fun out of it, and it does get dreadfully boring up on this roof all alone.”
Tracer felt the muzzle of the gun nudge the dip in her shoulder in a teasing manner, trying to hide her flinch as she stayed silent. She wasn’t usually this jumpy and certainly would never back down from a fight. She just wouldn’t admit how entranced and distracted she became in Widowmaker’s presence.
“Besides,” the tall woman purred as she leaned closer to Lena, “You’re hardly a threat, darling. Just a hyperactive puppy who thinks she can save the world. It’s almost cute... mais pathétique.”
“You’re bluffing, love,” Lena finally spoke, trying to regain confidence, “Since when did you back down from a fight?”
Widowmaker just shrugged, one hand coming up to rest on the wall beside Lena’s head. Lena’s breathing hitched as she felt her warm breath on her skin, hands coming up ready to shove the other woman away.
“Like I said, Lena; it’s cute.”
Lena felt her heart clench painfully at those words, the way she said her name sounded so much like Amélie that it made her feel queasy. The ache in her chest was amplified by the weight of her accelerator on her body, making her want to cry because she was so close, yet deep down Lena knew; Amélie was gone. She still couldn’t stop herself from whispering in a pained voice.
“Amé...”
Widowmaker raised an eyebrow, golden eyes observing her with an almost pitying look, “Oh, tu pauvre fille. Amélie is gone, you know that.”
“I- please... don’t.”
The way Lena’s voice wavered made Widowmaker shake her head. She didn’t remember much of her life as Amélie Lacroix, but she did have some memory of a particular hyper overwatch agent. Memories that seemed bittersweet, though Widowmaker herself wasn’t too sure what emotion connected to them anymore. She could remember the fondness Lena used to look at Amélie with, and it was pretty obvious that she had once felt more than friendship for her mentor’s wife.
“It’s time to let go, Lena,” Widowmaker said firmly, but surprisingly not unkind, “You can’t keep doing this. I am not her, chérie, I will never be her again.”
Lena tried to hard to put on a brave face as she replied, “We could help you! Widowmaker, please, Mercy could bring Amé back...”
“It’s too late, foolish girl,” Widowmaker trailed a surprisingly gentle hand down Tracer’s cheek, “You have to let her go.”
Before Lena could respond, a raspy warning came from behind them, “Widowmaker... The mission does not include fraternizing with the enemy.”
Letting go of Tracer, the sniper turned to face Reaper, who somehow looked disappointed though his face was an unmoving white mask. Widowmaker chuckled lowly, her body language just as relaxed as before.
“Oh I’m just playing around, Reaper, mon ami,” despite her words, her tone was not friendly at all.
“And yet, you’ve not killed her? Have you lost your touch, Widowmaker? Are you becoming soft?” Reaper’s hands tightened around his guns, “Moira will not hesitate to increase your treatments, if necessary.”
“She is not my target,” Widowmaker recited slowly, “She did not make a move to shoot me or even stop me. If anything, she is but a distraction.”
“Widowmaker,” Reaper’s warning wasn’t growled out, “Don’t test me.”
“She is not my target,” She glanced back at Tracer as she repeated herself firmly. The girl was standing absolutely still, having raised her blasters with shaking hands. She was almost hiding behind Widowmaker, as though she trusted her enough to protect her from the shell of Gabriel Reyes.
Reaper huffed and raised one of his guns in the blink of an eye, too fast for either woman to react by raising their own guns. Widowmaker flinched and jumped to the side, expecting Lena to recall out of the way like she so often did while they were fighting. However, a yelp of pain told her otherwise and she immediately spun on her heels to see Tracer crumpling to the ground.
“We’re leaving in 20 minutes, don’t miss the ship and stop making dumb mistakes. You are but a machine, Widowmaker, don’t make me shut you down.”
With that, Reaper disappeared from the roof, shifting to wraith form. Widowmaker watched him leave with baited breath and then turned to Lena, who was white as a sheet and breathing shallowly.
“Oh, you foolish girl,” Widowmaker crooned as she crouched beside the younger woman, “Why didn’t you recall out of the way?”
Tracer was clutching at her thigh, blood seeping through the obnoxious orange spandex she always wore and staining her hands red. She huffed and rolled her eyes the best she could, “W-Was a little... distracted, love.”
Widowmaker sighed and brushed Lena’s spiky, unruly hair from her eyes, “God, you’re quite the magnet for trouble, aren’t you.”
Noticing the signs of shock setting in and realizing Lena was having trouble keeping her eyes open, Widowmaker knew she needed to make a decision. She could kill her, that was what her programming was tell her to do, but she didn’t think she could do it. Even if it was to put the girl out of her misery and rid herself of an annoying pest, there was a tiny voice screaming in her mind to save her.
Ignoring Lena’s protests, Widowmaker grabbed the communications device that was hanging from her accelerator. She brought it up to her ear and pressed a button, hearing a beep and then multiple overwatch agents’ voices calling for Lena.
“Angela Ziegler,” Widowmaker spoke coldly, “Your puppy got off her leash.”
The comm crackled and a confused voice spoke in accented English, “Amélie?”
“Widowmaker,” she corrected through gritted teeth, “She’s been shot, Ziegler. Shock setting in and losing consciousness, you’d best come work your magic before I have to put her down.”
“I-,” Mercy was stumbling over her words as she came to terms with what had been said, “You didn’t kill her?”
“I was not the one who shot her,” Widowmaker replied, “She is not my target.”
“Amélie, I-.”
“That is not my name, madam Ziegler,” the French woman warned lowly, “Come save your little pest before it is too late.”
With that she dropped the comm and turned to Lena again, who was shaking like a leaf as her body temperature dropped. Widowmaker frowned and brushed a gloved hand over her sweaty forehead, “Pauvre chiot.”
“W-why do you always... why do you c-call me that?”
Widowmaker’s golden eyes glinted with a surprisingly amount of fondness, “You are like a puppy, non? Annoying and loud, but I do suppose you’re cute to some.”
“W-well aren’t you... quite the charmer,” Lena gasped as she shifted and a spark of pain shot through her leg. She heard someone calling her name in the distance and watched with glassy eyes as Widowmaker glanced over her shoulder.
“Your friends will be here for you soon,” she spoke in a strangely gentle way, “Stay out of trouble, little pup.”
“Amé... please stay.”
Widowmaker smiled at her sadly, not bothering to correct the woman who was clearly in shock, “Adieu, Chérie.”
With that, she left Tracer slumped against the storage unit, knowing her family would find her in the next couple minutes. She threw her grapple to the rooftop across the way, spotting the talon ship hovering nearby.
With a glance over her shoulder she saw a familiar blonde figure crouching over Lena’s body. Widowmaker sighed and shifted her gun sling over her back.
“Stay alive, foolish girl.”