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English
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Published:
2016-07-06
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1,157
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1/1
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Summary:

There eventually came a tipping point when even Soldier: 76 could no longer bear the cross of his identity on his own.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Soldier: 76 was an identity borne out of necessity. It was a means of escape, a way to avoid the UN's prying eyes while Overwatch remained under investigation. A way to evade the expectations, and the complaints of both allies and civilians alike. A way out of the spotlight Strike Commander Jack Morrison had been put under for months on end.

It was the breather that he had longed for. And before he knew it, it had become a means to cut through the red tape that he himself had lived by for more years that he would like to count. No longer did he have to play by the rules with his new persona, not when the rules hindered him from getting the job done.

It had been that way for years now, Jack Morrison's former glory fading away, nothing more than a memory to him. All that was left was the shadow of a man who was deemed a hero by many.

The life he chose to live after the incident at the Swiss Headquarters was a humble one. Never staying in one place for too long, never having or making any sort of real connection with the people around him. There was enough for him to do to keep himself busy, but it was the quiet times when he was left to his own devices that he truly dreaded.

It was during those times when the guilt of his actions and his decisions began chipping away at him. When his intent to help people and keep them safe felt like an excuse to keep his identity hidden from the world. Or more importantly, from the people he knew and cared for.

While he often brushed it away, there eventually came a tipping point when even Soldier: 76 could no longer bear the cross of his identity on his own. That tipping point came in the form of the Overwatch Recall.

He had answered the call for reasons even he would never admit to himself out loud, hoping that maybe, just maybe, things would actually be different this time around. And that maybe he would finally be able to rekindle those lost connections again, one by one.

Starting with Overwatch's ex-head of medical research.

- - -

He expected the slap that was coming, watching momentarily as her hand drew back before readying himself for impact. For a few seconds, he regretted removing his visor, regretted revealing himself like this to her. But he was ready for it anyway. With his eyes closed, and his teeth clenched tightly together, he waited for the sharp pain to cut across his cheek.

But it never came.

It took him a few breaths before he pried an eye open, then the other, only to find her hand lingering mere inches from his face. What anger he thought he'd seen from her earlier had dissipated, only to be replaced by a mix of confusion and genuine curiosity. He watched her as she swallowed a gulp, her eyes traveling from her hand to meet his gaze.

Mercy looked at him questioningly, tilting her head to the side as if asking for permission. Before she could open her mouth to give voice to the thought, he offered her the smallest of nods in reply.

Soldier: 76 wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe Mercy had been faking it all along and the slap was still coming. But that thought was immediately dashed when her fingertips touched his face. Her touch was soft, agonizingly gentle, as her fingers traced the scar on his brow. She continued downwards, across the bridge of his nose and stopping as she reached his opposite cheek. Tearing her attention from the scar, she met his gaze once more, a worried look etched on her features.

Unable to explain himself, he simply pressed his lips tightly against each other as he looked towards the ground—towards anywhere but her. How could he look at her when she was studying his face with such scrutiny and not feel guilty for what he had done? For what he had hidden? Any man would have probably done the same.

But he should have known better when it came to her. It isn't long before she took hold of his chin and forced him to face her. He didn't put up much resistance.

She then repeated the gesture on his other scar, her pace even slower than before. It took all his willpower not to lean into her touch, especially with how familiar it had felt. It was hard for him with the life he'd lived, devoid of any real human contact, any real intimacy for far too long.

Instead he tried to distract himself, studying her face with just as much scrutiny as she was with his. He watched her as she reacquainted herself with the features of the man she once knew, and took in the physical intricacies of the man who stood before her now. He took note at how her brow creased and knit together, at how she bit her lip as she went about her work. He noticed how very little about her had changed, even up close—a stark contrast on how much he had aged in the past five years.

Then he saw the tears pooling in her eyes.

She had stopped, her touch lingering at his lips, but for how long? How long had she stood there simply staring at him? How had he not noticed?

Soldier: 76 took a small step back, pulling away from Mercy. He blinked once, twice, and swallowed the lump that was caught in his throat. This was the moment of truth, wasn't it?

He had opened his mouth to explain himself, to tell her everything. But even before he's able to, Mercy interrupted him by throwing herself against him, her hands wrapping around his middle, her face burying into his chest.

Sobs racked her frame, and she mumbled something as she leaned into him, soaking his jacket in the process. Despite the muffled tone of her voice, he was able to make out a single sentence.

"I've missed you."

His breath caught in his chest. After everything he'd done, that was still the first thing she said him. Despite the lies, despite the false preconceptions... Soldier: 76 expected anything else but this. A harsh slap across the cheek, angry screaming, an all-too-familiar reprimand. But not kindness and warmth like this.

With his free hand, he reached up to return the embrace, pulling her closer to him with his own half-hug. His other hand gripped tightly against the mask he'd removed only minutes ago.

He knew that there would still be a painful talk between them, that his explanation would still need to be said. But that could wait a little longer. Right now, they had this moment and it was more than he could've ever asked for.

"I've missed you too, Angela."

Notes:

More character sketches because I have too much overparents feels for these two.

You can also find me on tumblr.