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It is rumored that the doctor never aged. As time passed, that fair skin never had a wrinkle on it and seemingly perfect hair didn't have a single gray hair. She only carried the bags under her eyes from work and the endured stress of being a field medic. Yet, she still glowed. She still had an ethereal aura around her.
Some say she didn't age. A side effect that has fallen on her due to the nanobiology tech she created and infused into her suit. Essentially reversing the process of aging completely. Remarkable they would say. Truly a wonder of modern technology. No less founded by the woman who changed medicine forever.
A few, however, would joke that she is an angel. A nickname she received once documentation of her swift response valkyrie suit came out and recordings of Overwatch's feats with the suit in motion surfaced to the news. The medic in blue with wings. Basked in a yellow light. Definitely an angel.
Her patients would call her work that of an angel. Injuries thought of impossible to recover or surgeries where probability of success was low. She provided them an extra life. In fact, beating death itself. Developing a way to bring fallen soldiers back to battle. A time frame of a few seconds where the heart was still beating, pulling them from the light and instantaneously healing all wounds.
Many would call that the work of an angel.
The opposite of an angel would be the elusive assassin. Majority of the world call her a monster. A murderer. A woman who doesn't feel. Who obediently follows commands and kills without hesitation. No one sees her. No one hears her. She is but a shadow in the dark and if you were to see her, you or someone there was about to die.
She brought chaos and mayhem. She sought out the death of important people, peace organizers, and even overwatch agents. Apart of a terrorist group, she did exactly that. Terrorize the population. A brainwashed victim of the evil in the world that created widows far and wide.
People say angels push out evil. They protect good. They made monsters hide.
So when Widowmaker had Angela pinned to the ground, a heeled boot digging into that fair skin. Skin now dusted in dirt and light scratches. The end of her sniper rifle firmly placed against the doctor's skull, she saw what people meant. Angela did indeed look very much like an angel. Even in this disheleved state of pain and fear, something about her felt other worldly.
When the doctor got too much of a nuisance, Widowmaker was given the mission to end her. Getting the jump on her when she had gotten separated from her team. A foolish angel, no? To wander alone and without protection. She'd take pleasure knowing that the silly and ridiculous sayings of the so called angel were about to be proven false.
Blue eyes darted back and forth, searching Widowmaker's own for anything. Anything she could grab onto to save her life. Nothing. Widowmaker's eyes were void. Dull and lifeless. Angela squirms, attempting to push the sniper off resulting in a quick blow from the barrel of the gun. Angela is discombobulated for a few seconds, blinking the haze and black dots from her vision. A groan of pain deep in her throat.
"Please.." She begs.
"Your begging is futile, docteur. I have my orders."
Angela is stubborn. Widowmaker found that out thr hard way. The threat fell on deaf ears and the blonde persisted. Trying to the wings of her suit to activate. The hardlight to resemble feathers flicking on and off. The assassin doesn't take too kindly to this. Eyes narrowing and placing her free hand on the shaft of a wing. Angela's own eyes go wide, rocking her shoulders back and forth to get her to stop. Widowmaker adjusts her heel to the doctor's upper back, digging in for support and pulls. With her whole strength, tearing the robotic limb out from the suit.
A scream. Then a choked sob filled the silence. Mechanics short circuiting and exposed wires sparking. Widowmaker catches a few beads of blood dripping from the parts and tosses the equipment to the side. A hole in the suit and she watches the doctor's technology work their magic to rebuild broken skin. She grabs the other and repeats the same process, throwing it to join the first. She looks back down to her victim. Surprisingly, she didn't see tears. A smirk spreads across her face.
"Did I break you already?"
Angela is silent. Widowmaker wonders if she's dead but her body still rose with every breath. She quirks a brow and digs the sniper harder into the woman's head. She hears a muffled hiss of pain. A shiver runs up her spine. The last few moments before a kill. The periods of her life where she truly felt alive. That gave her excitement of the anticipation.
"Any last words?"
It's quiet for a few seconds.
"Do you believe in angels?"
It was odd, Widowmaker will admit. These aren't the usual last words she got, well, if she gave anyone last words. Angela was a special case. She had her up close and personal.
"Non." She replies.
"Then allow me to change your mind."
Widowmaker opens her mouth to ask what that meant. Nothing leaves her lips as Angela pushes herself off the ground. A new found strength that made Widowmaker lose balance, staggering backwards off the doctor. The aura that presumably followed Angela everywhere grew brighter. Too bright. Widowmaker raises her hands to shield her eyes. Moments later she lowers them down cautiously. Before her is Angela. Only now she had six pairs of white feathered wings on either side. Two smaller ones perched atop her head. The halo of her suit shining and a second halo surrounding it diagonally. She was floating just above the concrete roofing.
The blue skinned woman is stunned. She's shocked to her core and her body doesn't move. Legs planted in the ground, caught like a deer in headlights. Widow's kiss hanging loosely from her arms. Angela steps onto the flooring, the wings gently folding up behind her back. So big they dragged on the floor. Angela only looked at Widowmaker. Wondering if the woman was going to speak. Wondering how she's going to react once the initial shock wore off. Her hands neatly folded before her, blue eyes soft despite the rough treatment. Those scratch marks disappearing without a scar left behind.
A sharp pain shoots through Widowmaker's mind. A throb, pounding into her skull. Tight and feels as if her head will explode. It reminded her of the after effects of her brainwashing or the constant obedience training she under goes. She instinctively reaches up to cup her head, hunching forward and clenching her jaw. Something about this felt wrong. Off. But somehow familiar. The warm glow, the sheer white and glossiness of the wings. As if she's seen them before. A faint feeling, tucked far in her mind.
"..wmaker-"
She tries to even her breathing. What the fuck was going on? Perhaps shock. It wasn't everyday that you find out a real angel has been walking amongst people. Working for the enemy no less. Someone quite literally referred to as the angel of Sweden.
"Widowmaker."
Gold eyes snap up to Angela. The glow finally settling down and less noticeable. Angela's face held concern and Widowmaker could only feel disgust. How could there be concern or worry for someone who had just tried to kill you? Angela steps forward, hands going out to help her.
"Widowmaker allow me-"
"Don't you dare touch me." Widowmaker threatens. Her words dripping in venom.
Like a wild animal cornered, she felt trapped and violent. This had to be a trick. An assessment done by Talon. One of Moira's mind games or experimentation performed on her as an unwilling participant. Angela flinches at the words and stops her movements. She only stares at Widowmaker. Her eyes pleading, as if waiting for something to happen. Another sharp pain through her head this time making her drop her gun, clattering to the floor.
"What are you doing to me."
Angela almost looks hopeful. A certain spark glittering in her eyes now. "Amélie?"
There it is. That name again. She's heard it before. Once by the sniper that had shot her and she shot back. Around Talon's base when higher ups were discussing her and her future training or enhancements. She never did like the name. It sounded foreign. Distasteful. That's not who she is. Perhaps in a different life but not now. She furrows her brows, eyes flicking down to her gun quickly.
"I don't know who that is."
She watches Angela's face sadden, a forwn pulling at her lips and eyes shifting to her feet. Wings going flat and limp. She blinked a few times to really make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. They weren't. The wings moved. They were apart of her. She shakes her head. In Angela's distraction, Widowmaker quickly grabs her gun, positioning her left arm towards a building, launching the grapple hook into cement before jumping off the building. She swings herself onto its roof and runs. As far as she could. Lifting two fingers to her ear she presses on the ear piece. She requests for a pick up. The mission failed. Mercy had gotten away.
She knows she'll get reprimanded for this. For failing. To undergo more conditioning and brainwashing followed by numerous methods of torture. She understands the consequences but she had to get out of the situation. Maybe the reprimands will rid of the sudden onset of headaches. Provide an example of what she witnessed. She glances back at the building she fled. Where she was supposed to kill her target. Where she was supposed to rid of the world of the forsaken medic.
The blonde stood there. Staring at Widowmaker running before turning her head and picking up the torn off wings of her suit. Widowmaker turns her head forward. A Talon jet appearing out from a few buildings, the back door open. She jumps to it, falling to her knees as she catches her breath and walks inside as the door begins to shut. Inside to greet her is Reaper. Even with the mask on she already knows the disappointed look on his face.
Widowmaker stops before him to show respect. Like clockwork. Obey the ones above you. He crosses his arms and Widowmaker brushes past him to sit against the wall, folding her gun up from its sniper mode. He was aggressive, yes, but one of the few that didn't add engage with her. He expressed his distaste for sloppy jobs such as this one but at least respected her. Unlike her peers.
Well, Sombra too. She is just chatty and evasive, nosey. Widowmaker brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her mind wandering back to the angel. She scoffs. Why show her? Why reveal that? Rumors of an angel. How right they were. She groans and rubs her temples. Whatever she did, whatever reason she had to do this to her. She hated it.
The blinding light surrounding her. How those blue eyes lit up, glowing almost. Reminded her of pools. The comments of her age. An immortal, not even human. Bringing soldiers to life? It wasnt her technology. It was her own abilities. A throaty chuckle leaves her lips. How is she supposed to kill her? She had questions. Why was she here? How long has she been here? She needed them answered.
She hears heavy boots walk towards her and lifts her head. Reaper stood above her, arms still across his chest.
"What happened." The gravely voice on the edge of threatening.
Widowmaker stares at him nonchalantly. "It failed."
"You failed."
Widowmaker's eyes flicker down before looking back up. They never ceased to put her in her place.
"What happened." He repeats.
"She escaped me."
"Why were you running then."
"..merde."
"Start being honest with me Widowmaker or I'll make sure it hurts worse."
"...I couldn't execute her. I had her but I didn't."
There's a growl. Then a stinging pain to her cheek. Obscenities yelled and the jet comes to a landing. The door dropping open with a gush of wind. A hand grabbing her forearm and dragging her away inside the organization. She blinks to adjust the change in light. She'd rather take the light of Angela over this. Her brows knit tightly together in a confused anger. A preposterous thought. She's handed over to two grunt soldiers, Reaper removing her sniper from her arms.
The soldiers carry her by both arms down the black and dimly lit halls of Talon. She knew where she was going. It's what she deserves after a failed mission such as this. And the hesitation she experienced by the forsaken angel. Widowmaker could barely comprehend it all. Overwatch agent Angela Zeigler, call sign 'Mercy', an angel. An immortal being with wings of pure white and, well, holy.
A pure one.
Widowmaker looks down at the stone floor. Something she was not. Anything but that. She clenches her jaw and inwardly hisses in pain with another throb of her head. She'll soon forget though. The soldiers push open two large heavy doors. The room itself resembling a hospital almost. Clinical white walls and fluorescent lights. Moira already waiting. An all too excited glint in her eyes. The assassin is thrown in, stumbling forward as the soldiers close the doors.
"You hesitated a kill."
Widowmaker hangs her head in shame. Moira clicks her tongue. She too dissatisfied.
"Your reconditioning is wearing off. How unfortunate. Why?"
The sniper looks up at Moira through her lashes. "Why?"
"Don't repeat what I said like you didn't hear me."
She winces slightly at how forward Moira is. By now she is used to her tone and cut to the point attitude. She wouldn't be flinching. What did that angel do to her.
"The doctor..I-"
"Zeigler?"
"Oui."
Moira's gaze darkens and she doesn't press any further seemingly already knowing. Widowmaker doubts she knows of the doctor's true identity. They proceed as normal. Widowmaker stripping of her catsuit and visor, setting them to the side. She lays on the cool metal table and the clamps shut around her wrists and ankles. She feels the same surgical tape placed against her head. Sticking conductors that connected to a fuse of sorts. How Moira described it at least.
The geneticist looks her in the eyes. If evil had a look itd be this. A certain type of pleasure in the coming neural reconditioning. "I have faith you'll learn, miss Lacroix."
Widowmaker takes her last few breaths of consciousness and closes her eyes before excruciating pain resonated throughout her body. Her screams echoing down the halls. On ears that did not care. That did not try to prevent the creation of the monster once again. No one dared. Fear ruled all around here.
The blue skinned woman succumbs to the pain, drifting to the comfort of the void. A dark and peaceful place that her mind escaped to during these. This time however, faint glow evident inside. A being standing proud in the distance. Of wings and eyes, pupils focused on her. Two halos across the face. Widowmaker has seen these before. A so called accurate angel. The wings unfurl as she steps closer revealing no one else but Angela.
Lush blonde hair not in her usual ponytail, pooling iver her shoulders. Dawned in white and intricately designed gold adornments. Was the doctor always this beautiful? No, of course she was. She's an angel. A living, breathing angel. All angels are beautiful. Weren't they? Angela extends a hand forward for Widowmaker to grab. The woman hesitates but grabs it. Slender, soft fingers wrap gently around her hand.
"I promise you safety, Widowmaker. Refuge for you. For Amélie."
"I cannot escape Talon. The reconditioning doesn't allow me to."
"You're experiencing headaches, yes?"
"How do you know that?"
"It's time for you to come back to reality Widowmaker. Don't fight it. You deserve a life. Not of pain, not at the mercy of Talon's experimentation."
"And how do you propose I do that?"
"We'll meet again."
Widowmaker pulls her hand back and rubs around her wrist. Contact such as that was foreign. It felt almost wrong. "I don't like games, docteur."
"It's not a game."
"This is a figment of imagination!"
"And what's to prevent an angel to enter your subconscious. To make sure you're safe."
The assassin quirks a brow. "Why appear now?"
"I revealed myself to you. Now I can freely. I've watched you frequently."
"Frequently?"
"When Amélie was kidnapped. I desperately wanted to know if she was okay"
Widowmaker's hands ball up into fists. She watched her. She knew the pain and torture and didn't do a damn thing. How tired she is.
"You watched and did nothing? You watched me suffer and go through torture every day!?"
Her anger was rising. She felt like snapping. An unbridled rage that she rarely felt, if at all.
"No. I made sure you didn't die. I've killed for you. I've lured my team away from getting the drop on you. I had no part in what happened in Talon. I show myself before you because I revealed my identity to you."
"For what end goal?"
The angel looks away for a second. Her wings flutter and in the glow she could make out faint pink on her cheeks before meeting Widowmaker's eyes again. "Call it..my love... for protecting people."
Widowmaker narrows her eyes. "How naive of you."
Angela chuckles albeit sounding sad. "Perhaps."
Sharp pain shoots through Widowmaker's body, an unexpected scream leaving her lips as she falls to her knees. She gazes up at the doctor, a pleading look behind those gold orbs. A bit of fear too. Angela smiles sadly.
"Time to go, Liebling."
"No- I-"
The sniper is cut off from her words by a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nausea hitting her hard, vision going hazy. The angel's appearance disfigures and contorts. Wings spreading wide revealing rows of eyes staring. A black mass washing over her face in what Widowmaker would describe as ink. An ever consuming black ink leaving only blue eyes and the halos, dripping down and staining the white clothes.
Widowmaker gags and curls into a ball, grabbing at her pounding head. What's happening? She wants to ask Angela what's going on. Why did she look like that? Why did she feel so sick suddenly. She feels light touches of hands caressing her. A few running up along her jaw line, another going over her check. Two more on either side of her shoulders going down to her sternum. Everything felt uncomfortable. She wanted to push them away but there was nothing to push. Subtle flinches and attempts to get away within her body.
Her gagging increases, her eyes watering. Bile pushes itself up through her throat and out onto the floor only it wasn't colored. It too being the same inky substance washing down on Angela. She tries to speak, her voice trapped and drowned out. She hears a faint heart monitor, beating slowly yet rhythmically. Her eyelids getting heavier by the second. She glances at Angela one last time before falling forward, eyes shutting.
She wakes with a stifled gasp. A scream wanting to be let out but trapped within her lungs. Her body felt like it was buzzing, pins and needles up and down her body. The ringing in her ears settled down and the haziness began to clear up from the corners of her eyes.
Widowmaker stares at her lap, dressed in underwear and a bra only. She tugs on her arms and finds them restrained behind her back.
"Good. You're up."
She felt numb to her core. Her hands touching eachother felt cold to the touch. She blinks a few times, still groggy. Her hair was pulled from its ponytail, damp and falling loosely over her shoulders. It clung to her skin uncomfortably. She glances around looking for the bile she remembers hurling up but the floord were clean. Shiny almost, save for the droplets of blood. Undoubtedly from her.
"How do you feel?"
The assassin sighs deeply. "Nothing." Her voice monotone, more so than she remembers it being.
"Excellent." Moira's voice a bit too happy sounding.
The blue skinned woman tugged at her hands again. "Untie me."
Shoes click against the tile. Moira is standing behind her and warm hands touch her own as she undoes the rope. The stark contrast of temperature has her hands flinch away. The rope falls to the floor and Widowmaker rubs at her wrists, bringing her arms to chest, making note of the bandages covering her arms.
"Am I done now?"
"For now. Your outfit and visor should be delivered to your room shortly."
She didn't have the capacity to argue why not give them to her now. Or really cared. Only nodding and standing up from the chair. Her bare feet pad against the tile, leaving the so called medical bay and towards her room. She passes by endless rooms, few occupied by soldiers, a couple by higher ups in the ranks. One in particular was Sigma's lab. Glass boards covered in ramblings and scientific notions. He was humming as he stared over papers.
In a swivel chair across the room is Sombra. She looked content, swiping on her holograms produced by her core mechanics and swinging her feet. She looks up from the multitude of screens momentarily making eye contact. She smiles at first before it falters slightly. She eyes Widowmaker up and down and the smile falls into a frown. Annoying as she is, Sombra did care. Talon being a place for her, giving her a family of sorts she never had as a child.
Widowmaker only blinked at her before continuing on her way. Fortunately, her own room located a couple doors down from the lab. She slides the door open and shuts it behind. As if on autopilot she grabs clothes and puts them. A black turtle neck and some shorts to accompany it. She sits on the edge of the bed provided for her. Useless she thinks. Her programming didn't allow much sleep. She rarely did feel tired.
She sat there for God knows how long. Her hands in her lap, staring at her palms. She didn't feel like moving. She doesn't think she could. It always felt like this after the sessions of brainwashing. Everything was behind a fifty sheet wall of glass. An observer on her own life. She kept imagining the black liquid over her hands from her so called dream. She would prefer to be back there.
Go back to talking with the angel. Bask in her presence again. She felt oddly safe, comfortable.
She sat there until the light from the window faded into darkness. Where she could no longer see the blue color of her demise; of her torture. A knock at her door grabs her attention. She doesn't respond but the doorknob twists and the door opens. The red lights of the hallways illuminate the assassins makeshift room, casting a red glow onto her. Standing in the door way is Sombra. Within her arms is Widowmaker's outfit and visor laying on top along with her heeled boots.
"Sitting in the dark again, spider queen?"
Again, no response. Golden orbs seemingly glowing in the dark. Barely even blinking that left Sombra feeling awkward and tugs at the collar of her outfit.
"I was told to return this to you..and mention that another mission has been ordered for you."
Widowmaker raises a brow in question as if telling Sombra to continue.
"Finish what you started." She starts. "Kill Mercy."
"Consider it done."
Sombra saunters inside the room and places the folded clothes atop the one table she had, setting the shoes next to one of the legs. Unlike Sombra who had free reign to do whatever she likes in her own room, Widowmaker had to keep hers devoid and empty. Containing only a table and closet that housed her clothes. Depriving her of anything but blank walls of a gray matte paint. Further enhancing her sensory deprivation. Something they found necessary to keep her cold and emotionless.
"So.." Sombra began, sitting on the edge of the table. "What happened out there?"
"Why ask if I assume all of Talon knows by now."
"No I know but what prevented you? From killing her."
Widowmaker's gaze goes down to her lap. Was it the doctor's blue eyes? That blonde hair? Maybe the accent. Or her revealing herself as a being not of this world. Perhaps all of it combined. Combined into one, Angela Zeigler. She coukd hardly tell her emotions apart let alone feel. It all felt overwhelming. Confusing. Stressful. She looks back up to Sombra and the hacker notices a certain glint in her eyes. She catches on and stands up straight, pushing off the table.
"I do not know."
Sombra hums and smiles. "Well you're in luck. I'm joining you."
"Lucky me." Widowmaker replies distastefully.
"Just to make sure you get the job done of course."
Widowmaker rolls her eyes. "At least Moira would be silent."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
The blue skinned woman sighs. "Anything else that you need to bring to my attention?"
Sombra's smile wavered. "And uh..no dinner tonight."
"I expected much. If you could leave now, Sombra. I wish to be alone and not babysit you."
Sombra nods and exits the room, taking one last glance at the assassin before shutting the door. Widowmaker stares at the shut door for a few minutes before backing up into bed. She scoots to the corner, bringing her knees up to her chest and rests her head upon them, looking out the window.
She doesn't sleep that night. Too empty to feel tired. Her eyes heavy, yes, but her mind didn't stop. Thinking on what she could only call a dream. Today's events would surely go down in history. More so because for the first time in her life, since being brainwashed and made into a weapon, she didn't see the doctor as an enemy so much anymore. Instead a pleasant face to see.
As many people saw her, a symbol of hope.
Widowmaker shakes her head. What was she thinking. This went against everything she stood for...made for. She had to succeed this time, fearing the consequences won't be as light as they were this time. Getting off with just another session of breaking her will to them is as light as they got and she'd take that over anything else.
The sun began to rise in the horizon. She sat in the same place all night without moving again. She sighs and rubs her eyes, a slight burn to them from prolonged staring. She scoots off the hard bed and walks to her untouched folded clothes. She quickly dresses in the skin tight suit. The only luxury they allowed, having clothes that she wanted. She buckles the thigh satchel and pulls on her heeled boots. She adjusts her gloves, clasping the amor around her wrist that held her grapple hook and venom mines. She grabs a stray elastic and pulls her hair up into its usual ponytail.
She places the visor atop her head. She knew she'd be the first to awake, Sombra having the habit of sleeping in. She had to fetch her weapon anyways. She exits her room and heads to the weaponry. Soldiers were waking up at this time, crowding the halls on their way to breakfast. Widowmaker pushing against them going the opposite direction of her. If she didn't feel so numb and absent, she'd have threatened more than one.
The weaponry door was located across from the doors that led out to the landing pad. She punches in the code and the metal door buzzes as the lock clicks. She pushes it open and steps inside. In its respective spot was widow's kiss. Neatly hanging up on its stand. Besides it is Reaper's guns and on the other side an empty case. She raises an inquisitive brow. Sombra was up already? Widowmaker grabs her sniper and pops out the mag. She walks to the ammunition holding and grabs a replacement, inserting it and closing it.
She leaves the weaponry to find Sombra waiting for her. Dressed and ready to go. Peculiar Widowmaker notes. The door slams shut behind and Sombra stops browsing. She waves the holograms away and jumps up to her feet.
"Ready to go? I want to make this quick."
Ah. That's why she's up.
Widowmaker nods and Sombra grins, leading the way to the jet. She raises a hand up, twirling it to signal the pilot. The jet roars to life, engine humming loudly. Climbing aboard, Sombra lays across multiple seats, stretching out. Widowmaker takes a seat on the floor again. The doors to the jet shut and Sombra turns on her side to face the assassin.
"Did you sleep?"
"Non."
Sombra sighs. An answer she always got from her.
"Where are we heading?" Widowmaker asks.
"There's an Overwatch convoy heading through the same place you got the drop on Mercy. She'll be helping them. We're going to ambush it. Get the jump on her."
Something didn't sit right with her about the plan. In their conversations, she said they'll meet again but Widowmaker didn't want it to be like this. Perhaps her sneaking out, risking her life to do so but not..not this. Her face must've shown some conflicting thoughts because Sombra sat up.
"Do you not like that?"
The call out made Widowmaker go blank faced again. "It works."
Sombra searches her eyes before laying back down. Widowmaker turns her gaze down to her lap. She silently curses the doctor for being so troubling. For being such a nuisance. For disrupting her peace and causing such confusion. She closes her eyes and hugs her knees, burying her face in them. A part of her wanted to cry but she couldn't. Tears wanted to form but never could.
"Quelle cruelle absence de sentiments, Angela." She whispers.
The blood would be on her hands. Millions if she killed Angela. Why did it matter? Her hands were already stained. She shifts in her spot and flinches feeling a hand caress her cheek. She immediately picks up her head in alarm, about to yell at Sombra for touching her but the hacker was still laying down. Her brows furrow together and she touches her cheek.
Angela?
There wasn't time to ponder about it, the pilot telling them over the intercom they were in position. Widowmaker stands and gently hits Sombra's head to wake her. Sombra groans and lifts herself up, stretching her arms over her head. The back door of the jet is ajar. Just enough for them to exit and the jet to leave quickly to not be spotted. They both jump to a roof below and don't hesitate to get into positions as the black jet takes off.
Sombra places a translocater down and out of sight by the far end of the roof. Widowmaker crouches down out of sight. She glances at her left arm where a venom mine currently sat, waiting to be used. She clenches her jaw and sets the arm down by her side. Sombra waltzes over to her sitting so close she was practically on top of her. A smile on her face as she pulls up a keyboard and types on it, bringing live camera feed from street cameras.
"And there they are." Sombra remarks, enlarging a screen with two fingers.
Widowmaker looks over and sure enough, a few vans and cars with the overwatch logo stamped on its sides. Soldiers walking besides them. Most she didn't recognize but she did see Morrison and her target, Mercy, walking next to him. The sniper shoves Sombra away and places her sniper on the edge of the rooftop. Sombra rolls her eyes.
"Do you have comms on?"
"Oui."
Sombra sighs and turns invisible. Widowmaker assumes she's going ahead to scout. She peers into her scope and angles it towards the doctor. A smile on her face as she chatted with Morrison. She looked genuinely happy. She shifts to the right and notices the wings to her valkyrie suit are attached. Must've had a spare. A smirk tugs at her lips. To think that no one else knows. What the doctor is hiding behind every grin or every time she goes out to perform her duty.
She adjusts the cross hair over Angela's head. The power level at hundred. She places her finger over the trigger. This is supposed to be when she felt alive. The moment right before a kill where the numbness momentarily disappeared. A vibrating pleasure throughout her body. However, she didn't experience that. She couldn't explain it and the same hesitation surfaced.
She loosens her finger around the trigger. "Sombra. I can't shoot."
She doesn't getting a response.
"Sombra? Do you copy?"
Silence.
"Sombra where are you." She mutters in annoyance.
She looks back in the scope to see where her target was now. She didn't see her target but now staring down the barrel of guns pointing at her. She hears a collection of soldiers yelling out sniper and she pulls back from her position. There's no possible way they saw her. No technology could've detected her. She folds her gun up from sniper mode and prepares to grapple away. A lower building but it covered distance. She takes aim and the claw meets concrete, gripping tight.
She swings and half way she hears familiar hacking. Suddenly her grapple retracted. Widowmaker's eyes go wide and she falls a story down, landing hard onto some bushes and shrubs. She sits there dazed and confused. There's running footsteps towards her and before she can do anything, hands are pulling her up to her feet. There's excessive yelling of orders and her arms are roughly shoved behind her back, hand cuffed together.
She blinks a couple times, trying to clear the daze. A voice stands out. Accented. Angela's voice. She's yelling at the others for something. The last thing she sees is the back of one of the cars and being pushed inside. Glancing out the window she sees Angela standing on the other side of the glass before Widowmaker collapses against it.
Angela places her hand on the glass. Fearing for the worse. She didn't know how Widowmaker's physiology worked. She turns to Jack, a serious look on her face.
"Take her immediately back to headquarters. I need to over look her."
"She's an enemy, Angela. Im not allowing a terrorist to be alone with you."
Angela furrows her brows. "Need I remind you I'm a doctor, Jack. I can handle myself." She looks back at the woman unconscious in the car. "Besides, I need to help her. Please."
Jack sighs begrudgingly. He didn't want this but he also knows Angela. She wouldn't stop and he certainly couldn't stop her himself. "You four, escort her back with the prisoner, we'll continue with the job."
Widowmaker doesn't know how long she was out. Stuck in a pitch black darkness of her subconscious. She was out cold. Almost like being reconditioned. What had happened? Did Sombra hack her grapple to malfunction? She'd kill her. She stirs and there's muffled talking around her.
"Patient appears stable..as much as her unique anatomy can possible be. Skin is cold to the touch and heart rate is almost nonexistent, the monitor finding it hard to pick up any readings. Making it difficult to to tell whats normal or not." There's a defeated sigh. "I know you're still in there Amélie. I'd give up my position as an angel just to be sure you'll return to a life without pain."
Amélie again.
Wait. She was with Angela again. Widowmaker groans as sharp pain shoots up her body. She attempts to raise her arms up but finds them locked to wherever she was laying. She pulls and tugs at them. The frenchwoman blinks and shakes her head slightly. Her vision began to clear and she could make out bright white lights above.
"Easy Widowmaker."
Widowmaker tries to sit up but a hand touches her chest, gently pushing her backwards. The blur finally leaves and sees Angela standing over her, wearing a white lab coat, glasses, and her hair down. Widowmaker stares for a second before pulling again at her restraints and thrashes around.
"Let me go."
"I can't do that Widow, you know that."
The sniper looks to her side at the restraints. "Talon will be looking for me."
"I know."
"You don't sound worried."
"Because I'm not."
The sniper grits her teeth. "Where am I?"
"Overwatch headquarters. The medical bay specifically."
"Why."
"Do you not remember the fall you had?"
She did. She definitely did. Widowmaker mutters something in French and Angela tilts her head ever so slight.
"I am..glad you're here although. That means I can try to help you."
"Do not touch me." She threatens.
Angela raises both hands in defense. "I promise. I won't unless you give me the ok."
Widowmaker doesn't trust her and struggles again. "Let me out of these."
"We are both under guard right now. If I let you go, we're both in trouble."
Widowmaker makes a noise short of a growl of annoyance and sighs. "At least turn the lights down. It's too bright."
Angela obliges and walks away for a moment. The bulbs inside the ceiling dim and Widowmaker relaxes.
"Sensitivity to bright lights." Angela says, making notes of everything she witnessed.
There's a brief silence before Widowmaker turns her head towards the doctor. "We meet again."
Angela gives her a small smile. "You remember."
"It's hard to forget an angel visiting me."
Even if the comment didn't mean anything, Angela blushes. "God you sound just like her."
"Amélie."
The doctor chuckles and nods sadly. She then looks away to the other side of the, what she'd assume a lab, before looking at Widowmaker. "Do you think I can trust you?"
Widowmaker would let a lie slip out. Telling her of course you can before her training would have her stab the doctor in the back. That's how it always was. She couldn't bring herself to do that. Instead telling her she could and once Angela unlocked the restraints, Widowmaker only sat up in the bed. The assassin sat there quietly, thinking of what to say. She had so many questions.
"What's happening to me?" She finally asks. "What did you do to me? Why did you come to me?"
Angela sits on the edge of the bed. "What's happening is that I'm trying to break your reconditioning." She watches gold eyes go wide. "Something I learned with my years here on Earth is that giving anyone even a little bit of hope goes a long way. I never asked for anything back, only to help those in need. I'm trying to reverse what happened, you didn't deserve any of it."
She pauses to allow Widowmaker to process what she said before continuing, "I came to you because you need that push, to reassure you...protect you even."
"Why now?"
"I couldn't until I had revealed my identity to you. I thought I told you this."
"Talon will be looking for me."
"I don't doubt that."
"Must be lucky being immortal. No reason to fear death."
Angela stands up from the bed, a nerve clearly being hit by the comment. "You should rest more, you had a pretty nasty fall."
"I don't sleep, docteur."
She turns to face her. "No?"
"A side effect I can only assume."
Angela nods, considering something and sighs. "Ok, then do you have anymore questions for me? I'm sure there must be a lot running rampant."
"Your wings. Why make fake ones on your suit?"
The doctor smiles, she didnt expect that out of all questions but anything to keep this conversation going. "I engineered those wings to be a sergeant for my actual ones. I can't freely have mine out although I wish I could sometimes."
"How long have you been on the planet for?"
"I lost count. Long enough to become a seraphim. The highest in the hierarchy."
"Do you truly think you can help me?"
Angela swears for a moment she saw Amélie behind those eyes. It took everything in her to not reach out and hug Widowmaker, cry into her shoulder and let out everything she's held in all these years. They were so alike in ways she didn't foresee. The more evident one being they looked exactly the same. Same body, different people.
"Angela, you're crying."
The angel touches her face and laughs dryly. "So I am."
Widowmaker felt stuck. Shedoesn't know emotions. She wasn't made for that. She didn't know what to do here, only staring in a confused yet angry silence. Angry she couldn't help.
"Why?"
"We shouldn't get into that."
Widowmaker nods and goes quiet.
"I'll see how you are tomorrow." She walks towards the doors and says something to the agents standing by them.
Before the sniper can get another word out, the doctor had already left and the soldiers were taking her away. What a familiar feeling. She's taken to the holding cells and thrown inside. She stumbles into the small cell and glares at the soldiers over her shoulder. They pay her no attention and lock the doors, turning their back to her and guarding it. She settles on the cot and gazes out the window. Overwatch was praised for their standards however it wasn't much different from Talon albeit a window she could look out. A cell in Talon was deep underground and void of all light.
She leans against the wall and sighs deeply. Speaking of Talon, they weren't going to be happy about their prized sniper being in Overwatch hands. Or, relieved they wouldn't have to care for her anymore. Focus their energy towards Sigma's or Moira's advancements in the scientific field. Her thoughts wander back to Angela.
She wonders what could've made the angel cry. She assumes it's about her. When was it not. Or the life she doesn't remember. Where Amélie knew Angela. She wasn't sure about their relationship but they had to be close. She shuts her eyes, another headache coming on.
Meanwhile, Angela sat in her sleeping quarters. A bottle of wine open and half way done. Angela holding a half full glass of the deep red liquid and swirling it around. She didn't want to admit it but she still felt so deeply for Amélie. She takes a sip and fights back tears again. Tears she thought she cried out when Amélie first got kidnapped. Those months of not knowing where she was or if she was dead or not. It tore her apart.
It was the first person she's fallen for in centuries. She convinced herself not to love a human because of her immortality but once her eyes fell onto the dancer, logic flew out the window. She caved and stuck to her hip like a lost puppy. Amélie initiated the affair first, going behind her husband's back. A part of her felt guilty. She was a holy being, condoning this nature was the opposite of what she stood for.
But another part craved her touch. Her smell. Her love. She brings a hand up to her head and rubs her temples. She had to remind herself. Widowmaker is not Amélie. Oh but how they sounded the same despite the monotone voice. Same accent. Looked the same. Even mannerisms were hard to tell apart. Poised and with class. She takes another sip, her breath fogging up the glass in a sigh.
Her abilities as an angel can't reverse what has been done but only make Widowmaker feel normal again. Well, as normal as she could. To feel human and break away from Talon. That is the goal. Getting her love back? Possibly Amélie? Those were out of the question now and she felt her heart breaking the more she thought about it. Her wings flutter behind her, tensed and straight. More feathers fell out and the floor below her was scattered in them.
Angela gazes at them, a frown on her lips. She was stressed. She takes a few deep breaths to relax and stretches all six wings out. She looks at the gaps of missing feathers and turns away in disgust. What an improper angel she was. No wonder she's the last on this planet. Tied up with a human and unable to let go. She chugs the rest for her glass and sets it on the kitchen table. She scoots her chair back and stands, heading towards the bedroom in the back.
She flops onto the mattress. No doubt she'll be reporting to Jack in the morning and convince him to let her try to rehabilitate Widowmaker. He'd call her a fool but allow her.
The next morning Widowmaker stares down at the food brought to her. Angela herself brought it, holding a mug that read 'self healing' that filled the air with coffee. She didn't move and stayed in the corner of her cell. Her eyes flicked up to blue ones.
"Are you not hungry?"
Widowmaker pushes the plate away. "I don't eat."
Angela crouches and picks the plate up. "I'll have it set aside for you when you do hungry ok?"
The assassin nods and Angela hands it to one of the agents who takes it away. "Alright, now follow me. I want to study you more."
The words that left the doctor's mouth reminded her of Moira and Widowmaker hesitated. No she wasn't her. She gets up and follows Angela closely behind to the medical bay. Agents and soldiers stopped in their tracks to stare. A few whispering to eachother and others had fear. She smirks, at least her reputation wasn't bruised. Unlike her ego with that fall.
Angela opens doors similar to Moira's lab, scanning her ID that hung around her neck and holds the door open for Widowmaker. Said woman gives her a look before entering and stands awkwardly in the middle while waiting for the doctor. The doors lock shut and Angela turns to her, a smile on her face but her eyes looking more tired than usual. She opens her mouth to speak but closes it. She didn't want to upset the doctor anymore than she was last night. She watches her down the rest of her coffee, setting the mug onto a cart where she picked up a clipboard.
"Ok Widowmaker I just want run basic tests. If at any point you're uncomfortable don't hesitate to tell me to stop."
Widowmaker shrugs. "I will."
The tests were as basic as she said they were going to be.
Firstly, checking for possible injuries sustained that weren't showing before. A few bruises here and there but nothing serious.
Next was her heartbeat again. Angela hooking up the machine to try and find a ryhtmic beat. Logging the beats per minute which were low enough to make Widowmaker frown. Moira never did that. Even on her own, she didn't feel alive as much as she should have. The heart resembled life. A living person. That wasn't her anymore. She's a living weapon created. She flinches backwards as Angela touches her arm to affirm her pulse.
Angela immediately let's go, looking at her with concern. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"
"Non. I'm not particularly used to other people touching me is all."
"Ah.." Angela's face falls at the sad realization. "No wonder you keep telling me to not touch you."
Widowmaker nods and Angela respects her wishes the rest of the time. Next, the doctor took her tempature. That too being incredibly low. It...made her think of a corpse. A walking corpse. A zombie if you will.
She scoffs. "A monster." She mumbles.
The angel tilts her head with a quizzical look. "Who's a monster?"
"No one."
Angela narrows her eyes but doesn't comment. She goes back to her duties, recording everything as she went. It came to the part where she had to inspect Widowmaker and had the woman strip of her clothes. The catsuit and other additions to the side, next to it an extra pair of clothes for afterwards. The lab was cold on her skin but it didn't effect her much. She sat in a chair in her under garments and arms crossed across her chest. Waiting for Angela to turn around.
The doctor taking her sweet time. Mentally preparing for seeing her and not acting on her desires but also fearing the worse to see what Widowmaker has been through. Slowly she turned around and let's out a shaky breath. The first to grab her attention is the scarring. Desires flew out her mind in an instant. She beholds scars that each told a story of the torment and torture Widowmaker has gone through. Half of which looked fairly new. Then she stared at the tattoos. The one on Widowmaker's arm then as she circled around, stopped at the one on her back. Amélie never did have tattoos.
It reminded her of a brand. Talon claiming Widowmaker as it's property. She writes it even if it pained her to do so. She sighs, placing the clipboard down with shaking hands and turns to her patient.
"This is the portion where you can tell me no ok? Can I examine you, physically I mean."
"Implying?"
"Implying that I'll be touching you, poking essentially to see if there's any underlying pain or symptoms that I can't observe."
Widowmaker goes quiet in thought and Angela feels the need to explain that it's completely okay for her to not go along with it. She can hold it off until she's comfortable considering the reaction she got beforehand. She almsot expected a straight forward no when Widowmaker nodded and agreed. Angela was dumbfounded and asked if she's sure, that she wasn't forcing herself to do this. The assassin assured her to continue despite mildly looking uncomfortable.
Angela almost didn't want to do it but sighed. She tells Widowmaker to tell her if it hurts wherever she touches and starts. Gently lifting her arm and presses two fingers into her forearm, asking if it hurts. Widowmaker says no and Angela carries on. Down the arm to the armpit before going to the right arm and repeating. Despite Widowmaker looking mildly uncomfortable, there was thankfully nothing besides scars on her arms.
Angela reaches behind Widowmaker's neck and trails to her collar bone. No swelling. She gently presses down her chest and stops when she hears a wince. Underneath her fingertips she felt something hard. She presses slightly and reactively a hand grips hard at her wrist. She pulls away and meets Widowmaker's gaze.
"My apologies- Can I ask what that is?"
The angel watches numerous flashes of quick emotions. It caught her off guard. Anger to sadness to maybe fear?
"The technology Talon installed in me to slow my heart rate."
Angela feels an anger bubble inside her. How could Talon do this to her. Without second thought or feeling or any compassion that she was a human being too. She takes a deep breath and sighs. She places a gentle hand on Widowmaker's cheek. Widowmaker shivers and flinches causing Angela to stop.
"What is that." Widowmaker asks.
"What is what?"
"I feel...hands? On me. I can only describe it as ghost hands."
Angela's eyes widen and she backs up. "I'm sorry about that I.." She shakes her head slowly. "It's a side effect."
"A side effect of what?"
Angela smiles sadly. "My love, for Amélie." She toys with the hem of her shirt. "It's something I experience as an angel but for Amélie, I noticed she'd make comments about it whenever I felt deeply about her."
Widowmaker shifts her attention to her feet. "Im...sorry. That I'm not her." She balls up her fists. "Another person lost because of me."
Angela looks at her. "You did nothing wrong here Widowmaker. It wasn't your fault." She smiles, covering the stinging pain. "Helping you is more than enough for me."
Widowmaker doesn't by it. "I find that hard to believe."
The angel looks at her from the corner of her eye as she turns around. "Believe it, Liebling."
The doctor grabs her clipboard and her eyes scan over it before walking to the other end of the lab to put it on file she started for Widow. Said sniper continued to sit in her chair, feeling more than she has in years. She assumes they're done and grabs the extra clothes, slipping the shirt over her head and pulling shorts on. She felt like a child walking up to Angela, wondering what their parent was doing.
"Show yourself to me again."
The doctor sighs and leans back in her chair. "You want that?"
"You already know why. You started the reversal process, no?"
"I did." She frowns. "But it also caused you pain."
"I am used to the pain by now."
"This is different, Widow."
"Very well. You'll deprive me of having a chance to be Amélie again?"
Angela clenches her fists. "That is not what I'm doing!" She abruptly stands from the computer, her eyes a glowing blue. "I'm protecting you!"
Anger flashes across Widowmaker's features and Angela prepares for an argument but Widowmaker sighs.
"Please, Angela. I don't want to be this monster anymore."
Angela hesitates but stands from her chair. "I'll do it just..prepare yourself."
The doctor walks towards the lab windows and shuts the blinds. She locks the door from other IDs being used. A mechanism in case of emergencies. She reaches up to her ponytail and pulls the tie out, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. A shimmer of light appears above her head. The two same rings Widowmaker saw her with before. Her eyes a glowing blue and tiny wings sprouting from her head.
They flex and flutter, stretching out. Widowmaker really takes it in without the looming danger of Talon or it being her mission to kill the angel. Behind her unfurls six wings. They appeared larger than before. More grand. Up close they had a certain shine to them, almost refractive. It was mesmerizing. They too flapped before stretching their full length. She notices feathers fall and a few gaps. The wings gently fold up along with the ones on her head.
"Do you normally lose feathers?"
"Not particularly. It began once Amélie was kidnapped."
A frown tugs at the corner of Widowmaker's mouth. Angela catches it and smiles wearily.
"It's alright. Are you ready?"
"I am."
Angela nods and steps forward. She places both hands on Widowmaker's cheeks. There's a warmth to them. Those blue looked so soft and kind. She couldn't look away. One hand goes to the top of her head. There's a brief glow then a wave of clearance washes over her. Angela steps back and Widowmaker stands frozen. She blinks, unable to comprehend what's going on before a rush of memories she forgotten.
Suddenly she's remembering. She remembers her past. Her career as a ballet dancer. Her husband, the poor man she murdered in his sleep. The blood staining the sheets of their shared bed. The infidelity she initiated. The guilt she felt yet it felt so right. The many nights they spent together. The kisses shared, stories, and Angela's secret. The amount of love she had for the doctor. It physically hurt her. It was sickening, overwhelming. Feeling such emotions, her heart hurt as it beat the fastest she's felt it in years.
Then came the pain of what she went through. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. They were glossy and turning red and puffy. She rubs her eyes and hangs her head, hair falling over her face. It wasn't just pain now. It was everything all at once. She took lives without a second thought, she went through torture and verbally abused. Treated like a machine. The cold nights she spent in the dark of her cell. The lack of contact and warmth in her life. The depravity of necessities.
That scream she always felt in the pit of her stomach finally surfaced. Hands gripping at her head as she screamed in agony. Everything she held in and was forced to never feel. The weight of it on her shoulders. The scream turns into a loud cry, wailing almost. Sobbing as she did. She reaches out and grabs onto Angela's coat, pulling her into a hug as she wept into the doctor's chest.
Angela held her in silence, allowing Widowmaker to feel and process. The woman shaking in her arms. The angel breathes deep and sighs.
"I told you it was going to be different." She quietly whispers.
There's another sob and cry.
"Poisoned by own your sin, Widowmaker. It will not be easy to recover."
Widowmaker peers up at the doctor. "You are my sin, Angela. So many things we did while I was married to a man."
"Then I am apart of the problem."
"There is peace in your poison," Widowmaker wipes her face and tears. "The blood of him, lots of people, may stain my hands but you will never be the problem. For I once loved you."
"Do you still now?" Angela asks a bit hopeful, her wings slightly flapping.
"I cannot say."
"I understand. I'm sorry it's way too soon to ask that."
"It is but..I do enjoy remembering the memories of us." She looks away. "Albeit the bad take over the good."
"It wasnt your fault, you were programmed."
"I'll never be the Amélie you once knew."
Angela is a bit crestfallen at the harsh reality but understands. Her wings fall limp and a few more feathers drift to the floor. She wasn't going to be the woman from before. Whom she still clung to. This is Widowmaker now. With her, an uncertainty of the relationship they once had.