Chapter Text
"Whoaa that's sick! "
"Maybe I should let you upgrade my mech with some nice, new cannons, hehe! "
The pride swelling in his broad chest was impossible to miss as Torbjörn puttered around with his newest prototype of a weapon in progress, a smug grin plastered widely over his face below the thick beard. Gathered around him were Lúcio, D.Va, Tracer and you while Mercy, Reinhardt and Genji stood a little offside, engrossed in their own conversation. The afore mentioned four were absolutely intrigued with whatever nifty machinery the stout Swede was working on, impressed and very, very curious as to what the gadget could do (which Torbjörn himself was not even entirely sure of).
Fact was, it looked badass.
And right now that was all Torbjörn cared about, bathing and soaking in the admiration his younger comrades were showering him with.
"Does it work yet? " - "Can I touch it? " - "Are those levers for the launch of- "
An exhilarated Tracer was hopping around the tiny man, bombarding him with questions as if she didn't need to breathe in-between. That kind of brisk, vigorous temper of hers sure was something else. Good thing almost everybody was used to it, otherwise the dwarfish man might've just imploded under her constant fire of words.
"I think your jabbering is a much stronger weapon than any of mine will ever be ", Torbjörn sighed with a brazen smirk directed at the brunette who now stopped and pushed her lower lip forward in a big pout, playfully offended by his mocking.
"At least I don't take all the time in the world to finish a job! ", she countered cheekily, referring to Torbjörn's 'It's done when it's done' attitude regarding completion dates.
Only getting started now the short blonde barked another tease right back at her.
You on the other hand watched your fellow Overwatch agents banter back and forth in delight, occasionally throwing in the one or other snappy comment at either side of the conversation to fan the embers.
Eventually it all escalated into giggles and grumbles, several fingers prodding and probing the device and another ten trying to swat away the nosy hands to protect the precious prototype. Even D.Va and Lúcio were now tagging along in Tracer's game of unnerving the brawny engineer.
"Weapons are not toys! ", boomed a gruff, deep voice suddenly through the room, bouncing off the walls and smacking all present upside the head.
"It could blow up the entire base! You are endangering everybody with your irresponsible behavior, get a grip! "
Heads spun faster than the speed of light to face the white-haired ex-commander who stood in the door you had your back turned to, arms crossed and face grim like the sky during a thunderstorm (you swore you could even hear the thunder rumbling in the distance).
Even the sidelines trio had their undivided attention focused on Soldier: 76, their expressions close to the pale, flat faces D.Va, Tracer, Lúcio and Torbjörn made at the obviously vexed tone to the tall man's voice.
Nobody liked the poster boy of Overwatch mad.
Nobody liked being the cause and focus of his anger either.
And they had just been caught red-handed.
Thoughts racing, minds scrambling to find something meaningful and conciliating to say, the agents stood there frozen in silence. Mercy and the other two simply waited it out, ready to intercept should somebody decide to respond with something particularly stupid.
"Thanks for the lesson, dad ", came it from you first in a moment of thoughtlessness.
As soon as those words had left your lips you closed your mouth rapidly.
Whoops.
Yep, that certainly classified as something particularly stupid.
Your reply left even the older agents speechless, wide-eyed stares flying from you to the soldier and back. And you could practically see the heat of oncoming rage bubbling up inside the middle-aged commander.
Ever so slowly you turned your rigid body towards him now too, an awkward, twitchy smile playing weakly on your lips.
Ooh boy, you had screwed up.
You had screwed up bad.
But somewhere in your now blank mind you high-fived yourself for that brilliant comeback.
And secretly so did everyone else in the room.
"You think this is a joke?! "
His harsh voice hit you like a brick.
"You could've killed us all because of your childish foolery and now you're disrespecting your senior? Wipe that stupid grin off your face! You're a full-fledged adult and not some 5-year-old rugrat! Show some maturity for fuck's sake! I will not have you mess around as you please and tolerate your impudence! "
While Soldier: 76 continued the roaring, military-style tirade as if you were a rookie recruit the rest of the present crew shrunk quietly in their places.
Mercy pinched the bridge of her nose in a mix of exhaustion and exasperation, Genji observed everything seemingly calm but thanked the gods mentally for not being the target of this rant, Reinhardt silently worried for your well-being, Torbjörn could do nothing but watch and the three younger delinquents were mere memories and ghosts, stock-still and strung to breaking point yet unspeakably grateful that you were taking the beating for them.
As for you, you bore it all with a sense of humor.
Naturally you weren't naive to a point where it would rile the white-haired man up even more but you weren't showing him fear either - despite the nearly brutal volume of his voice that strained your eardrums and the crude words he relentlessly stabbed you with.
Every word, howsoever cutting and coldhearted, you accepted and absorbed, your eyes locked straight with his visor and the old, noble blue orbs lying beneath. You still held your smile for him, of a different nature now though, instead of awkward and shaky there was composure and patience and an odd kind of warmth to it, all wrapped up in a layer of mildly pleading remorse.
It was a smile that asked for forgiveness through its airy innocence, an expression that could be compared to the notorious 'puppy eyes'.
Another might have been rattled by the ferocious vehemence radiating off Soldier: 76 while he scolded the living daylights out of them, but not you.
You knew better than to judge him based on his grouchy, brusque and almost unfeeling daily demeanor.
You knew deep inside his chest beat a heart of pure gold, the heart of a hero, an undying force he could deny as many times as he wanted but at the end of the day he would never abandon those in need.
You knew he would always go out of his way to do what is right, to bring justice even if he was not asked or thanked for his actions.
And exactly this knowledge had taken away all fright you could feel towards this man.
Initially, when you had first met the ex-strike-commander of Overwatch, you had been absolutely terrified the first time you witnessed his anger. He was everything you didn't want to cross paths with and thus made it a point to avoid the gruff man.
A few missions and your fear morphed into insightful admiration and sooner or later you could not escape a certain fondness you felt for him.
He would never hurt you, he would threaten it, yes, many, many times (because you could be a real rascal, let's be honest) , but never had he laid a single finger on you (or any other comrade for that matter).
Thus, even though you realized you had struck several sensitive topics with him by calling him 'dad', you knew his anger would quickly soften into a few hours of double the normal grouchiness and a few deadly glares at your person but nothing worse.
And even Soldier: 76 knew he couldn't be angry with you for long.
Right now though, he was.
And very much so.
"I'm not anybody's 'dad'! Whatever gave you the idea it would be reasoned and just to call me dad, you better put it right out of your mind again or next time I hear you calling me names you'll answer to my pulse rifle, understood? "
"The nerve of it! Can't believe I have to deal with such childish behavior, back in my days we would've kicked their asses to China and back ... "
The last few sentences were not more than muttered growling of the sour commander who was already surlily stomping off, still fuming madly about the things he had to put up with these days.
His heavy, violent footsteps could be heard through the entire facility, or so you were sure of listening to the massive echo they left shaking the walls down the hallway.
For another good minute the room lay in dead silence as if sound itself was scared of him coming back to throw another tantrum.
It seemed as though nobody even dared to breathe.
Once the deafening trail of footfall had disappeared, everybody turned to you.
"Thanks for the lesson, dad. "
Reinhardt's throaty, raucous voice imitated your wording exactly and rung through the quiet around you.
Suddenly a spate of laughter burst out flooding the air, hearty and truly amused. It pushed away the eerie silence that had followed the angry lecture and saturated the room in ease and joviality, immediately coaxing your tense body into a state of relief. Even Mercy and Genji were chuckling along with the other five that completely lost it, finding your little heroic slip-up far too entertaining.
Seeing them all tickled pink eventually tore down the last wall of apprehension in your bones and you fell an easy pray to the infective laughter around you, joining in with your fellow agents to indulge in lighthearted, silly hilarity.
"O. M. G. I can't believe you just did that! "
D.Va was holding her stomach from blithe cramps, nearly toppling over in laughter.
"You sure got some guts calling him dad ", Lúcio praised with a wink and nudged your shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye and sighed contently at his diaphragm protesting.
Smirking breathlessly back at him you supported yourself with your hands stemmed on your knees, hoping to fend off the pain that was slowly sneaking up on your sides.
You really hadn't thought these guys deemed your impoliteness such fun.
Actually you had been convinced you'd hear more criticism from them, especially from Mercy and Reinhardt who'd been with Soldier: 76 prior to the fall of Overwatch.
Reinhardt was utterly ecstatic though, you had never heard him crack up this much. But he was the one howling the loudest.
"Hahaha, 'dad' she said! Splendid, splendid! ", sounded his guttural laughter and he gave you a delighted glance, "You sure know how to entertain people, kid! About time someone had a little fun with that old grump! He needs to lighten up! "
"You know he won't let you live that down anytime soon, right? ", Mercy chimed in gently, hiding the last few giggles behind her hand, attempting herself at an accusatory gaze to chide you, but her amusement betrayed those intentions.
You inhaled deeply to steady your voice from laughter before giving an answer.
"Yeeaah, ", you drawled out, mentally whimpering at the thought of it, but reverted back to a cheekier tone, "but, to be honest, that was worth the consequences though. He does act like the team dad sometimes. "
Approving of your self-confidence, your fellow agents smiled at you.
With a wide grin you high-fived Lúcio next and bumped wrists, receiving a jog with the hip from Tracer standing next to you, coupled with a bright smile.
Gradually you all began to recover from your little spree and went back to your usual ways, finishing tasks or just chatting with each other. Your iconic nickname for the ex-commander should be the number one hot topic among the agents of Overwatch for the next few days though and the crew could never get tired of hearing that story over and over again.
The conversations during your collective dinner that evening weren't any different.
Soldier: 76 hadn't shown at all for the evening meeting where you simply sat together with those present during dinner time and overall he hadn't been seen by anyone the whole afternoon post your little 'dad incident'.
It was to no surprise though, Mercy and Reinhardt had been predicting that reaction of his out loud for hours.
You figured he was simply too peeved by your insulting nickname that he took time for himself to blow off steam and have you out of his sight to avoid more irritation. He really probably didn't want to see you right now, given the way he went off on you earlier, and you understood fully. No need to take offense.
You debated an apology with yourself while you picked at your salad and fished out your favorite ingredients first, stuffing your cheeks with pleasure.
Maybe it was better to say your sorries after all. It wasn't meant hurtful or scathing at all, it had just slipped out of you like that, you hadn't even really meant to make that comment in the first place ... but if it really stung him so badly you definitely owed him a heartfelt apology.
His age was never one of your concerns, you liked and respected him the way he was and the fact that the gorgeous blonde hair of his youth had already bleached into an elderly white and his hairline receded noticeably did not bother your in the slightest (you couldn't even believe your own thoughts, never had you imagined you'd be this fond of a much older man, made you seriously question your preferences).
That in your mind you sometimes labeled the veteran soldier the 'team dad' was much more rooted in his behavior and interactions with the other agents than in his age.
But, honestly, to you his daddy qualities were always something you found astonishingly lovable.
As did you his (in his opinion untrue) 'hard shell, soft core'-attitude.
But that was another topic.
Spacing out chasing your thoughts you missed the entire animated re-narration of the hilarious confrontation a few hours prior to dinner delivered by Torbjörn (and Tracer occasionally popping into his sentences to toss her own).
Once again your foolish bravery was a scream for all those that hadn't heard of it yet and echoing laughter swept over the long table you all sat on within a minute.
Only when the guffawing Reinhardt on the next seat slapped his enormous hand onto your back as a praise you fell out of your trance and quickly caught up with the happenings, losing yourself in laughter anew instead.
For a while you quipped with the other agents, earning yourself even more mirth. Gladly you let the share in amusement consume your worrying mind, greatly relieved that apart from Soldier: 76 himself nobody else held the name-calling against you. Plus, admittedly, you sort of enjoyed being the focus of positive attention for a change. Sort of.
Over all the jokes and banter your appetite and previous thoughts had been pushed aside completely and it took a while until you remembered you really needed to pay the bathroom a visit.
Excusing yourself in leftover chuckles from the last pun Tracer had just thrown into the cackling, overjoyed circle you strolled out of them room.
You really loved spending peaceful time with your fellow Overwatch agents. When there was no emergency, no battle, no dispute, when time together attained a mild vibe of normality, almost as if none of you were warriors, as if you were all just good, old friends enjoying each other's company. Those moments you treasured the most.
The corridor was dimly lit on your way to the lavatory. It wasn't very far from the cafeteria and you could still hear the now dull reverberation of buoyant conversations at the dinner table following you down the hallway.
Content you smiled to yourself, eyes soft and placid.
Days like this you'd never want to miss, not for a thing in the world.
Early on your ears picked up the sound of leisured but still firm footsteps ahead of you and your focus shifted from the muffled noise at your back to the one in front as you attentively scanned the area in reflex.
The robust, tall man who turned around the corner a few doors north of you next led to a rapid swing of mood.
His white hair gleamed warmly in the faint lights.
It struck you as odd that he wasn't wearing his visor like he usually did nearly 98% of the day, but you brushed it off since it was getting late and he probably just wanted to let the day fade away in comfort like everybody else did. Even an at all times serious and prepped man like him needed his time-outs. Not intending to ruin today's for him, you drew a mellow smile.
You sensed the slight awkwardness settling in the air around you as you came closer, hoping your smile was enough to keep any soreness from earlier at bay, the last thing you wanted, for both him and yourself, was to tick him off even more. Two times in one day would definitely not be a good idea. And you really wished to stay on good terms with Solider: 76, even if you drove him to exasperation occasionally. You really did love to jar on his nerves from time to time, never did you do it maliciously, if you decided to annoy him you carried out your mission in a loving way. It wasn't that you wanted to see him mad, it was much more that you wanted to see him get out of his cozy, old shell of a grouch. And it brought you great pleasure whenever the aging soldier played that little game of yours.
He probably even knew that it was all just a big tease anyway, you figured.
Clearly being able to make out the royal blue of his proficient eyes now you bolstered your smile a little and met his gaze affectionately.
In a split second you found yourself trapped against the wall.
It had only taken a single, resolute motion of the by far stronger man and your back was plastered against the metal wall, frozen stiff in surprise.
Staring wide-eyed all words, thoughts and even breath had been knocked out of you efficiently.
It was a very compromising position you found yourself in, no defenses for yourself anymore as the grim veteran stood not an arm length in front of you, boring holes into your now kinda jittery frame.
You had not a single clue what had gotten into him. All you could reason yourself was that he was still angry as hell and would once again wipe the floors with you for it or maybe your gaze or smile had simply sparked roaring aversion inside of him. Either way you looked at it, he was mad.
Shame, you had tried so hard to earn his pardon for a respite.
Preparing your mind to be chewed out for the second time you were squirming and sweating awkwardly in your place.
God, you really should've said sorry right away, now look what it brought onto you.
You weren't necessarily scared but you certainly disliked the look on his face. His brows drawn together, painting the wrinkles on his forehead a darker shade he was frowning deeply, his expression announcing the raging storm that was pulling closer by the second. He was, undeniably, a highly intimidating person if he really wanted to be. The subdued lights around you did not exactly provide redress either, actually they made him appear a lot scarier the way their shadows danced on his skin and kept his face dangerously clouded. The scariest part about it all was your inability to read or interpret anything into the stare he pinned you with. You could normally take rough guesses at what was going on in that man's head, if not always accurate, at least you had a sketchy idea.
Right now your head was just a gaping void.
All hope to get off lightly abandoned you, leaving nothing but a bundle of raw nerves that was you behind. You had already begun to scold yourself when his voice forced the entirety of your attention on him.
"Don't you EVER call me dad again. "
His demand was clear, as was his low, raspy voice.
The warm breath you felt flashing over your skin in a fleeting moment sent chills crawling up your veins, freezing your blood and cutting off all of your functions.
Had it not been for the prior clash between the two of you you had perhaps found this situation bewitching rather than worrisome, having him so close to yourself, but as things were your mind didn't even dare take a single step in that direction.
You weren't sure if he expected a 'Yes, Sir! ' from you or an apology, you weren't much sure of anything right now. His tormenting silence and piercing eyes did not help.
Robbed of your voice you stood there with tension gnawing at your bones.
Not for a second you allowed your eyes to stray from his. They picked up every howsoever tiny motion or change in his expression, observing his features closely and etching their picture deep into your memory.
Your heart beat in such a racing, banging rhythm you felt it up in the back of your throat.
Your lungs were tight in your chest as each breath you attempted to take got caught up by the beat in your throat.
After what seemed to you like an eternity, he spoke up again.
"This is why you shouldn't call me dad ", he breathed out in a deep growl that reverberated through your guts, "a father wouldn't do this- "
Suddenly the world blurred.
Everything around you disappeared the moment you felt his scarred lips crash against yours.
The back of your head smacked against the wall gracelessly as he pushed you hard. Flush against the metal facade behind you your eyes were squeezed shut with force. There was no feeling in your limbs, as if they were utterly nonexistent, all the more was what was left of your body tingling and aching in a heat you couldn't pinpoint the origins of, even the inside of your head felt on fire, parching, sweltering fire that eradicated your sense of orientation and time.
There was not a thought in your blazing mind, emptied and absurd. You tried holding on but you fell further and further into disregard of your lacking sense, far too distracted by the rough lips devouring yours.
The kiss was just like him. Gruff and raw he forced his lips on you and left no space for objection, his lips were, against all odds, soft though, matching perfectly with yours. He barely allowed you to breathe, claiming your breath mostly for himself as if he had to assert something with you although he knew very well that you respected not one more than him, unquestioned with blind trust and loyalty. His brows furrowed more as the kiss lasted, he seemed upset and yet not at all, the urgent demand with which he pressed himself against you giving him away. There was more to this than just anger or the intention to prove a point, so much even your muddled, messy mind could tell. Brusquely he took your lips again and again until he could tell you were absolutely breathless.
As if he had won a fight, he spared you then.
A moment longer and you had surrendered yourself entirely to him, wrapping your arms around his broad chest and pulling him in close where not even a piece of paper fit between you.
Both gasping and struggling for air you now stood there, your eyes still closed.
Your face was glowing crimson from the heat and exhaustion the kiss' intensity had hit you with.
For a timeless moment there was nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths mixing together while your heart threatened to burst right out of your chest. You were fearing for the safety of your rib cage as hard as it was slamming against it from the inside.
Only now sensitivity returned and poured down on you abruptly. Your knees were made out of jelly, it was a miracle you still stood upright.
Finally risking to open your eyes you looked at the broken-winded, slightly disheveled Soldier: 76 in front of you, taking in the sight before letting your orbs stray to the ground where they rested.
A smirk stole onto your lips.
"Well ", you exhaled rather than spoke, your voice hushed and thin.
"Okay then ... I won't call you dad ever again. "
Barely registering it at the edge of his consciousness immense satisfaction rolled through Soldier: 76 like an enormous wave.
"I'll call you daddy instead. "
The mirth in your voice was unmistakable, so was the cheeky grin that spread over your face from ear to ear now.
Soldier: 76 though didn't react at all.
That phrase had ultimately blown his fuses, he blanked out, staring down at the ground with no emotion stirring in his features at all.
The moment he managed to recollect himself though you clearly caught on a distinct but colorless flush reflected in his mien and smiled even wider.