Chapter Text
They were gross and ugly and littered your body like a battleground.
And God, you hated them.
The scars varied in length and cut. Some were deep, cut down to the bone. Some were lighter, but cut across the entire length of your back. Most of the time, they hurt to touch, and sometimes one wrong move from you would make them bleed for hours on end. Some nights, you would fall asleep in gasping sobs, feeling every kick, punch, and injury that your soulmate had got. There were times were you spent the entirety of the day in your room, crying over the bruises, marks, and torn skins over your body. It was the worst.
It got even worse after what you would like to call the 'incident'. You had no clue what had happened, except that one night you simply passed out from the overwhelming amount of pain in your body. You woke up two days later, a giant scar reaching down from your forehead to the bottom of your chin.
It was easy to say you cried a lot that day.
It was selfish, you knew that. You knew there was someone out there in worse pain, but you couldn't stop the tears. It hurt, and creased from emotions in a way that you hated.
Jack Morrison felt the same way about the scar. He was used to the scars that littered his body far before Overwatch was ever close to collapsing. He was used to the bruises. But the scar across his faced changed him. It reminded him of Gabriel, someone who he trusted, but somehow ultimately ruined his life. It changed his facial features by a landslide. He was no longer Jack Morrison, the golden boy from Indiana. He was Soldier 76, a vigilante.
76 sometimes wondered if he had a soulmate. It was something everyone questioned, but every time he though about it he felt guilty and gross. If there was a human on the other side, he probably ruined their poor, normal life. He made them feel pain, and he most certainly felt bad for that.
Sometimes, he would find bruises on his hips, and he faintly wondered if his soulmate was clumsy, or of he just banged his hips somewhere. If he saw a paper cut on his finger, he briefly questioned if his soulmate had an accident, of if he did that filing papers. He wondered, he really did.
You, however, were done wondering. You were done with the bruises, the scars, and the cuts that made up your body. You accepted that you were going have to live with them for the rest of your life, and that you would just have to ignore the stares and hope that makeup could conceal it enough.
Everything changed one day when you where walking home from an especially tiring day of work. Your scars (well, not exactly yours) ached and Greg from the cubical over seemed to spend most of his day harassing you over how you got the raise and he didn't. Quite honestly, you didn't have the guts to tll him to shut up, but Azure, the quiet woman who sat nearly 9 cubical's away from you did, and for doing that, she got a good yelling from Mr. Boss. She, in turn, said she was trying to defend you, and then you were the one who got yelled at for not resolving things as quick as possible. Not only had that happened, but someone in the office ate your lunch, the coffee machine and printer both stopped working, and by the time everything was finished up, it was raining cats and dogs outside.
You ended up missing the last bus for the night, so you were left with having to walk home in the pouring rain. It was cold and just plain horrible.
When you felt the cold metal of a knife pressing onto your neck, you immediately regretted not going home with one of your co-workers.
"Don't even think about moving a muscle, sweet cheeks," a breathy voice whispered into your ear. It was difficult not to cringe away from the hot breath, but you somehow managed. You couldn't however, stop the fear that ran through your body. You legs quivered, and your heartbeat sped up, your blood feeling as if it went cold. Jesus fuck, you were being robbed.
"Open your bag and give me all your money."
"I-I don't have anyth-" You started.
"Sorry? Did I hear that you wanted a knife to go in your throat?" You quickly shook your head. "That's what I thought. I know you have money. Now hand it over."
You sorted through your bad, trying to ignore the tip of the blade that was pressing into the base of your neck. There wasn't a lot of money, but hopefully it was enough for him to let you go. You pulled out a $42 and handed it to him with a shaky hand.
"That's it?" He barked and yanked the money away from you. He growled and pocketed it before glancing up at you with a dirty look. His eyes were a disgusting shade, the whites bloodshot and dark bags hung underneath them. Something in his iris just screamed danger.
Quickly he lunged forward and pinned you against the side of the building. You tried to scream aloud, but the second you opened your mouth, a hand went over it. He grinned, showing his yellow teeth, which seemed rotting and you could even see a couple of missing ones.
He sighed dramatically and began dragging the switchblade across your facial scars. "I really didn't want to kill you. You have too pretty of a face."
The moment he said that, you chomped down on his hand, getting a satisfying yell out of him. He growled and held his bleeding hand. "What the hell, you bitch!?" He sprung forward, the intent to kill clear on his face. However, before he got to you, he was hit by a bright blue light, tossing him to the side of the alleyway, his figure un-moving.
You frantically looked to where the light came from, seeing a large and very muscular person walking towards you. A frightened screech exited your lips and you fell backwards, and right into a puddle, but you didn't particularly mind at the moment. If this new person had no problem killing the mugger, then he probably wouldn't have an problem with killing you either.
He look rather menacing, especially because of his visor that seemed to be the only source of light in the dimly lit alleyway that you were in. Every footstep he took forward seemed to echo, and sent a jolt of fear through your spine. You tried crawling backwards, but the floor was too slippery, and seemed to want to keep you on the ground.
He paused in front of you, and your entire body ceased, muscles tensing and your body going frozen.
He then kneeled in front of you, staring at you with the red visor of his. He was going to kill you right now, wasn't he?
However, instead of killing you, he put his hand forward, and in his grasp was your bag. Hesitantly, you grabbed it and pulled it close to your body, your belongings most likely soaked by now.
"Uh...Thank you..." You muttered, looking back to him. You opened your mouth to speak again, however, the words got stuck in your throat at the sight of the mark that disappeared underneath his mask.
The scar was in the exact same place as yours.
He seemed to notice the scars on your face too, as he jolted backwards, as if he had been stung by something. He got off his knee and began to hurriedly walk away.
"Wait!" You shouted, stumbling to your feet.
He didn't answer, or even look back to you. He just kept walking, his figure basically disappearing in the thick rain.
You stood there frozen, staring at where he had just gone. You were so close.
You then glanced at the corpse he had left behind. Perhaps it would be a good time to go before the police came.