Chapter Text
When you work daily with 17 screens, more technology than an average power grid can support, and generally are unmedicated for a lot of issues, your sleep schedule tends to be an absolute shambles. Such is the fate of Olivia Colomar. After her last performance meeting, Moira had put her onto a plan to improve her "effectiveness," whatever she meant by that. In bed by 11pm, awake by 8am, blah blah blah. She wasn't a child, and of all people, she did not need Moira O'Deorain giving her a bedtime. She had made this far with an average of 3 hours of sleep a night, she could do it until she was 60.
That being said, it does suck. She actually wanted a decent night's sleep that night. After a long day of searching private databases and archives for any sort of information she could find on the ghost of Overwatch, she wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and not have to look at Jack Morrison's face every 5 minutes. Abiding by the doctor's orders, she was actually in bed by 11, but her eyes wouldn't shut. No matter how she tossed, turned or curled, sleep wouldn't take her. Half an hour in, she found herself mindlessly tapping the air, holograms sparking to life around her to doomscroll. 3 hours in, she couldn't stand it anymore. She stood up and exited her room, cloaking herself to avoid anyone else that might be up at this ridiculous hour.
The halls were silent. Sometimes she'd pass by someone's room and hear something through the door, though she didn't care enough to stick around and find out what was going on. Her goal was a floor down. The kitchen. All she needed was something to fill her stomach, and she'd sleep like a baby.
When she arrived, she didn't bother flicking the lights on, her eyesight already fine enough in the dark. She never questioned it, and if she had to guess, probably something about the cybernetic grafts in her brain. It made things awfully convenient, especially now, as she pulled a box of Lucio-Ohs from the cupboard. They didn't even taste that good, but the presence of the box pissed Gabriel off to no end, so she kept ordering it to ragebait him. With a bowl and spoon gathered, all she needed was the milk. Absentmindedly, she swung the fridge door open, the light illuminating nothing but the space behind her, as she grabbed the milk from the door and closed the door with her hip.
As she turned, the light caught the rest of the room. What she saw nearly made her jump out of her skin, and definitely made her jump out of her stealth.
"Ay!" She shouted, scrambling to put the milk down and turn the lights on to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.
Sure enough, as the lights flickered on, her initial glimpse was confirmed. Emre was sitting at the table, hunched over ever so slightly, seemingly in some sort of thought. The sudden lights made him flinch, looking up to meet Olivia's eyes. His were wide, hers were narrow.
"Oh, Sombra. Good, uh... morning, I suppose." His voice was a little heavy, as if he were trying not to say something specific. "Could you make me a bowl, if it's not too much trouble?"
For a moment, she stood there, shocked more at his presence at all than his presence at the time. "Uh, sure. Milk or cereal first?" She asked, squatting down to grab another bowl and spoon.
"Milk first, obviously. Otherwise the cereal gets soggier faster." A tiny smile appeared on his face at the mundanity of the question.
"Wrong, but whatever." She poured his bowl first, followed by hers. "The cereal and milk are in contact for the same amount of time either way. Cereal first just means the milk covers more surface area and the flavour spreads more." She said as she made her way over to the table, setting his bowl in front of him before taking the seat opposite him.
Emre just scoffed and took a bite. He let out a long sigh, one that he'd seemingly been holding in for a good while. "Utter cardboard." He muttered, humourously. Sombra pointed her finger at him.
"Hey, it makes Gabe mad to have that DJ's face in the cupboard. Just wait until he finds out many members of the team listen to his music." Emre chuckled, while Sombra gave him a wide eyed look. "I'm serious, amigo. Even the big guy likes it."
"The big guy being Doomfist or Mauga?" Emre shot back. Olivia confirmed it to be Doomfist, and Emre chuckled yet again. She couldn't put her finger on it, but hearing the man laugh seemed to be more of a positive sign than laughing tended to be. The pair weren't exactly close. They didn't really have chance to be, given how Emre disappeared between missions. She had attempted to slip a tracking program into his codec, like she did for everyone, but... something had stopped her. She couldn't tell what, and he didn't stick around long enough for her to ask. To say he concerned her would be a huge understatement.
After a few bites of her own cereal, she leaned in, face falling to concern. "Hey, Emre? Are you... Ok?" He looked at her with a curious face. To him, she was Sombra, the sassy, quick-witted tech genius of the team. That was all he knew her as. Shame he hadn't got to know her as Olivia yet. "Just, you tend to disappear when the big guys don't need you, only to show up again when they do. We don't have anything big coming up, so..." She took another bite, shrugging. "Without sounding rude, why are you here?"
After a moment, Emre nodded slowly in understanding. "Fair question." He let his spoon slide gently further down into his bowl, as he spent a moment in thought. Olivia sat patiently, resting her head on her hand, looking the man up and down slowly. "Am I allowed to say I don't quite know myself?"
That threw Olivia for a loop. She wasn't expecting an answer in the first place, but of all possible answers, she was expecting that the least. "Well, you're allowed to say whatever you like. I'm not a snitch." She joked. "But that's not quite what I was expecting to hear. I thought you'd say something like money got tight, or you missed seeing Siebren's old face." The man chuckled yet again at that second statement. "Something on your mind? Here to see the dreaded doctor?" She pushed slightly, trying to coax something out of the man.
"God, no. Moira will only see me if I'm on the very edge of life and death." He replied with no hesitation. Then he regained the slightly solemn look from when she first saw him. "Having said that, I guess now is as good a time as any for her to see me."
Olivia resisted every urge in her to tap her hand in the air and investigate him more personally. Two things stopped her, though. First, she was still wary about how she got rejected by the mysterious entity last time she tried anything like that on him. Second, the man was clearly stressed about something. The last thing she'd want right now would be for him to trust her less. Instead, she simply put her hand out on the table, extending it to him. "You're not sick or anything, amigo?"
Sullen eyes drifted to look at the hand on the table. For a second, it seemed like he was going to reach out and grab it. But he didn't. "I don't know, Sombra. I might be. I have these... These periods."
"You coming out? I wouldn't have clocked, you're looking good on it if y-"
"No, no. I wish it were that simple." At least Olivia's humour managed to lift the mood every so often. "It's a lot to explain, and it's late. Can..." He looked up at her, eyes communicating a silent plea for help. "Can we save this for the morning?"
All Olivia did was nod. She kept her hand outstretched, using her other to scoop some more cereal into her mouth. If it didn't already taste like cardboard, it sure as hell did now. Each piece soggy and swollen, she was barely eating it for taste or sustenance. She just didn't want to waste food. "You can take all the time you need, amigo." He nodded, the edges of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Oh, and call me Olivia. We're off the job. I hate sounding so professional while we're having a 2am cereal discussion, you get me?"
"I get you. And thank you, Olivia." He pointed down at the bowl in front of him, the contents of which had been almost cleaned out by now. "Sometimes a carboard pick me up is what you need."
A smirk painted Olivia's face. "Ain't that the truth." She took her hand back, flicking her eyes down to check the time with a few taps in the air. "I'm probably not going to sleep any time soon. You wanna do anything?"
A few options ran through Emre's mind, but nothing really seemed to stick out to him. "I'm a little tired, but I probably won't sleep for a while knowing me." He looked over his shoulder to the shared living space, eyeing up the TV. "Could you-"
The words had barely left his mouth when Olivia raised her hand towards the screen, tapping a few times to bring it to life. "Can I do something with technology, have you met me, estúpido?" She teased as she stood from the table, bringing her bowl with her to the couch. "I'll put on something mindless we can chill out to, yeah?" After a few more taps, a video essay on some topic neither of them particularly cared about appeared on the screen. It filled the air, and gave them something to think about other than problems for a while.
Every so often, Oliva would glance sideways at Emre, making sure he was doing alright. Every time she did, he'd find something to make small talk about. Something in the video, a concept he'd learned recently, what she thought the weather tomorrow might be like. She humoured him each time, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Even if there was something looming over head that wasn't being discussed, it didn't feel like it was there.
It was nice.
About an hour in, Olivia heard some quiet snores from beside her on the couch. A cursory glance over confirmed that Emre had dropped into dreamland for the night. Olivia stood quietly, trying not to wake him as she turned off the TV. Luckily, as the team's infiltrator, she was very practiced at being quiet. Once the TV displayed its dead, black screen, she looked over at him once more. For a moment, she paused, just looking at his peaceful, sleeping figure, before stalking over to the hamper by the end of the couch to pull out a blanket. Gently, she draped it over the man, and placed a pillow under his head so he'd have warmth and support for the night. He had his own room, but even if his bed would've been the better option for him, she didn't want to wake him right now.
"Duerme bien amigo," she whispered, as she cloaked herself once again, returning to her own quarters. She'd lay there absentmindedly for a few more hours, doing little more than doomscrolling. It occured to her at some point that it'd be wise of her to warn the rest of the team that their AWOL member had returned. She typed a very quick, emre in the living room asleep dont be too loud in the morning into their group chat, before returning to her scrolling.
At the bright hour of 6:24 am, Olivia finally felt the grip of sleep overtaking her. No doubt she'd be awake in a few hours, met with confusion and annoyance from her other team members at the sudden appearance of Emre.
But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she was asleep.
And that Emre was safe.