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The sigh that slipped through her lips felt like a goodbye.
It was dark, it was low. It was silent. She did not even know if the sound ever made a noise. The guards did not pay her any minds. Whether it was because they did not care, or because her voice was so weak that even people who were only five steps away couldn’t hear her, she did not know.
“How long?” one of them asked.
“I don’t know,” the other replied, typing into her tablet idly. “I don’t really care either.”
Satya rested her burning forehead on the cell floor.
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Satya worried for the small bag of grocery she had left behind.
There were some bird seeds and a few roses in it, she had promised Bastion a gift. The forest he came from did not grow roses, and Osiria roses were so beautiful.
There were some lemons for Hanzo, he had wanted to make some ice tea.
There was a blue rabbit necklace that Satya thought Mei-Ling would like, the scientist was feeling a little down lately.
There were also two Snickers ice creams, one for her and one for McCree on their drive back to base. McCree had promised her to let her try driving the truck this time, and that he would make sure they didn’t end up in the bottom of the cliffs.
Satya worried for those frivolous things that were scattered on the boardwalk by the sea, she hoped McCree found them, and brought them back.
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“Mister Sanjay decided,” the guard informed her, one day, how many days? With her fever, the burning and the hunger and dehydration, Satya lost track of the date, despite trying her best to remember how long they kept her. Satya lifted her face weakly, the guard’s face was hidden, he did not even bother turning around to address her. “You would be sent dealt with tomorrow at seven hundred.”
Satya was struck with a sudden pang – not from the fact that Vishkar wanted to get rid of her, no, it was a sudden pang of shame – she did not know what being “dealt with” entailed. She worked for this company almost all her life, and she knew only the lies that they told her.
Satya murmured.
“What?” the guard said.
“Do I…” Satya managed, her voice sounded so terrible, so dry and painful it did not sound like it was hers. “Do I, get the la–”
“No,” the guard snapped. “No, you do not get anything, Miss Vaswani.”
Somehow, Satya preferred it. If she heard anything from her friends before being “dealt with”, she was not sure she could keep her façade on without breaking it.
．．．．．
The quiet was, surprisingly, welcomed.
The air was cold, and that was also welcomed. Satya’s thoughts mangled together in a mess of sadness. Her esperance, like the word itself, was obsolete. “Hey, what are you worried about?” Satya thought she heard Lúcio asked, but she opened her eyes and found herself alone. Her breaths were rhythmic white puffs in front of her, and she remembered drawing little animals with Hana on the widow, when they both did not feel like sleeping after a three a.m. nightmare. Hanzo and his stories, inviting her to join for tea in the early morning before breakfast, sitting in a corner of the garden where everyone knew but no one intrude. Zenyatta’s questions about her creations, from someone who Satya admired so greatly to fond over her like an excited child. And…
Oh, she’ll miss them. She’ll miss them, she’ll miss them, and she hoped, more than anything in that moment, for them to know that she missed them.
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“Make sure that no one interfere with the transfer,” the guard warned the others. “Mister Sanjay worried there may be plenty.”
Satya was too weak by this point to snap or bite when one of the man grabbed her by the arm. Though she did notice the one that was helping her walk, and a couple others, were not people from Vishkar. They were all wearing visors.
Satya barked a laugh, the Vishkar agents all looked startled.
“I did not know Vishkar has stooped to the level of hiring mercenaries,” she said with venom. Maybe there was some bite left in her.
The guard’s face twisted into an ugly growl, “it was the result of you.”
“I am flattered,” Satya said breezily, feeling surprisingly talkative. The things anger could do to you, it eclipsed the stiffness in her muscle and the pain from her fever.
The guard took a step forward, and the man that had Satya took one as well. Putting himself in front.
“Don’t we have a schedule?” he snapped, clearly not interested in listening to them mock each other. His British accent made it sound ten times more insulting
The agent balled his fist, and promptly turned and led the way.
Satya was pulled with them roughly, the transport was in the middle of the hangar. The early morning sunlight failed to brighten the gray ambiance. The ceiling was so high, and the walls were so far away, it made the place felt bigger, and emptier.
When they approach, the back of the truck opened, and it was too dark for Satya to even see what was inside. The guard walked to the driver and grunted something.
“What should I do with her?” the man holding Satya asked loudly, irritated.
The guard turned, confused, and equally irritated. “Put her in the back, is that not obvious?”
The man sighed. “Well, there’s a problem,” he let go of Satya’s arm, and tapped his visor, “I think you should be the one that goes.”
The guard shouted as the bullets of Peacekeeper stuck his chest. Screams rang out and Satya was once again roughly pulled by the man as he stood between her and other agents and gunmen.
“Mc-McCree!” Satya shuddered, the gunshots too loud for her in this state. McCree crouched, taking her with him.
“Hang on,” he said, and pushed her face down, protecting it with his metal arm.
A roar flew past them, and Satya lifted her eyes to see the mercenaries and Vishkar agents scorched. Reinhardt loped toward them.
“Miss Vaswani!” he bellowed. “Are you well? Are you injured?”
“N-no,” her teeth were chattering, her heart was pounding, and not in a good way. “Sir – ”
Reinhardt shouted and raised his shield. McCree clamped his palms over Satya’s ears. A rocket exploded right on the shield, but the knight stood still.
“There’s more enemy!” McCree shouted into his earpiece. “Someone take care of them –”
An arrow whistled past the top of Reinhardt’s shield and into the smoke. A sickening sound of bone and neck snapping echoed faintly in the hangar. McCree placed a hand over his heart.
“That was incredible, sweetheart,” McCree said, awed. He listened for a bit, and laughed, answering: “Yeah, yeah, she’s alright, darlin’, don’t you worry.”
McCree shook Satya lightly. Her eyes are shut, and she was afraid to open them. “Satya, can you walk for me? We’re almost there, we’re getting you home.”
Satya’s knees won’t respond, but she was nodding. She grabbed onto McCree.
Another pair of hands rested on her shoulders. Satya looked up and back to find Zenyatta, under the pale sunlight. His orbs whirling.
“Apologies for being late, Satya,” he said. Low and soothing. “There were some more people that wanted to come in from the back door.”
Zenyatta looked up to McCree and Reinhardt. “Do not worry, I took care of them. I think it is best if we leave now.”
McCree cracked some joints in his neck and groaned. “Agree, we’re leaving, sweetheart, meet you back at the aircraft.”
Zenyatta took over Satya. Her pain and tremble ceased almost immediately. But her heart still ached.
“It is alright,” Zenyatta said, only for her ears as they followed McCree and Reinhardt. “It is alright.”
Satya choked. She buried her face in the monk’s clothes while stumbling to follow. Sobs were spilling out of her dry and swollen throat, and metal fingers were combing through her tangled hairs.
“It is alright, Satya,” Zenyatta murmured. “You are going home.”