On Our Own

“These are all of the potential targets.”

Jack Morrison spread the nine sheets across the table, each displaying a face accompanied by a block of text. The faint red glow of his visor fought for dominance with the cold overhead lamp, illuminating his face in a juxtaposition of colours. A tattered scar jutted out above one eye, crumpled by his furrowed brow. While his expression was unreadable beneath his black mask, it was clear that he was expecting some sort of response from the four others seated at the table. The gentle buzz of the air conditioning emphasised the ensuing silence.

To his left, Hana sat as far forward as she could without risking falling off her chair, knees bouncing. Sheets of brown hair tumbled down her back. As she breathed in, she noticed that the air tasted stale. Despite Winston’s best efforts, the room was still iced with dust. Her painted whiskers and snug jumpsuit were the only things familiar to her, this being her first mission since begging to join the newly-reformed Overwatch. It had not escaped her notice that she was still on probation, and she was struck by an odd wave of nausea as she went to speak up. “Uh, you do realise how many people that is, right?”

Morrison sighed, his gaze shifting back down to the sheets of paper. “I do. Which is why I came to you for help.”

Winston let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair. With one broad hand, he pushed his glasses back up his face. “And I was hoping that you finally decided to rejoin us.”

Morrison's head snapped towards the gorilla, who shifted uncomfortably beneath his glare. “Talon is trying to shut down the Harmonic project. We know they’re going to murder one of their executives,” he said, gesturing to the sheets, “within the next three hours. We don’t have time to narrow it down further.”

Tracer leant forwards, folding her arms on the table in front of her. She chewed at her lip, her hazel eyes locked on one of the photographs.

“So what’s the plan?” Mercy asked, her shoulders tensed. Absently, her fingers stroked the nape of her neck. Her stern expression seemed out of place on her delicate features.

Morrison turned towards Tracer. Attention now away from him, Winston visibly relaxed. “How many can you get to?”

She drummed her fingers on the table, pulling her mouth to one side.  “Four. Five, if they’re close together.”

“Good.” Morrison turned to the rest of the group. “That leaves four. One of us will have to take two.”

Mercy shook her head. “No. That leaves someone vulnerable. Let me take one.”

“We appreciate the thought, love,” Tracer said, placing a hand on Mercy’s shoulder, “But you can’t heal a Talon agent to death.” She gave her an apologetic smile.

Mercy drew a slow breath, one hand reaching for her belt. “I’ve been… learning some things. Just in case.” Her eyes drifted between their faces as she shot them a gentle smile. “We’re not exactly popular.” She placed something small, about the size of a brick, on the table with a metallic clatter. Morrison stiffened as he caught sight of it, and Tracer gasped, jolting her hand back from Mercy to cover her mouth. Hana’s breath caught in her throat.

It was a gun.

Overwatch’s Angel of Mercy, determined to protect those under her wing, was carrying a gun.

Morrison slammed one hand on the table, rising to his feet as he leant forward. With his other hand, he gently cupped Mercy’s cheek. “Who hurt you?” he said, his voice low and urgent. His usual stoicism was corrupted by genuine concern.

Mercy’s fingers curled around his, peeling his hand away from her face. “You don’t need to worry.”

His shoulders fell as his hands balled into fists. “They will pay,” he growled. “If it was Reyes-”

“We don’t have time for this,” she said, her eyes hardening. Morrison swallowed before giving her a nod. His gaze remained focused on her as he sat back down.

“Doctor,” Winston said, leaning in towards her. “We all understand if you want to stay behind.”

Mercy shook her head again, her eyes returning to the potential victims. “Nobody is dying tonight. Not while I’m here.”

“Fine,” Morrison said, his asperity returning. “That means one each.” He proceeded to divide up the VIPs around the table. “Unless anyone has any questions, we should go.”

Hana leapt to her feet, a sharp grin cutting across her face. “Race you to the targets!” Darting towards her robotic exosuit, she lurched back as Morrison caught her arm with his immovable grip. She looked back at him, feeling his piercing glare even through his visor.  

“This isn’t a game, Hana,” he growled.

Tracer scoffed, rolling her eyes as she skipped around the table. “Oh, lighten up, Jack. She’s a kid. She isn’t hurting anyone.”

“It’s D.va,” Hana snapped, tearing her arm away from Morrison, “and I’m 19.”

Morrison frowned, but relaxed when Mercy placed her hand on his shoulder. “Jack. We need to go.”

He sighed. “Fine. Stay in contact. If your person is the target, do not engage Talon on your own. Wait for the rest of us to arrive.”

~~~

The journey to Ryan Port’s house was uneventful.

Cloaked by the night, Hana skipped across rooftops with the sort of grace that seemed out of place for such a bulky robot. The gentle roar of traffic easily covered her footsteps. Her heart fluttered each time she leapt the voids between skyscrapers, the ground falling away beneath her as she soared through the air. The city lights twinkled, replacing the stars absent in the blackened sky.

She couldn’t hold back her grin.

Eventually, her GPS told her that she was on top of Port’s apartment. Even from the outside, she could tell that the building was lavish, the facade decorated with golden swirls.

“Port has been reached,” she said. “Hacking into security cameras now”

“Good work,” Morrison said, and Hana felt herself smiling again.

After a flurry of keyboard action, crisp security camera footage popped up on her HUD. As she flicked through the different feeds, the sheer number of security guards began to dawn on her. The place was infested with them. They patrolled every corridor, each armed with state-of-the-art pistols. With a sigh, she slouched back in her seat. This was going to be an uneventful night.

~~~

Over the next hour, she was able to use her highly-refined surveillance skills to deduce that security guards lived exceptionally boring lives. They paced back and forth down the hallways, alert and scanning for non-existent danger. Her only respite was the occasional chatter of her teammates over the radio, but Morrison was quick to silence any conversation unrelated to the mission.

She leant back, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms out above her head. The radio crackled to life. “Status report,” Morrison said. “Nothing unusual here.”

The other three members of the team quickly reported similarly.

“Nothing-” A flicker of movement caught her eye. “Wait.” She tapped at her dashboard, flicking between security feeds. “Oh. Shit.” She watched as a large black figure sprinted down one of the hallways, tossing security guards to the side with ease. Her pulse quickened.“Talon’s here.”

“How many agents?” Morrison asked.

“Uh…” Hana flicked back and forth, her eyebrows furrowing. There was something unnatural about the ease with which he was overpowering the guards. “That’s the thing. There’s only one.”

“One? Are you sure?”

“I think so. I mean, yeah.” She zoomed in further, slowing down the footage of the figure. Her chest turned cold as she realised the source of his strength. “He’s wearing some sort of... exoskeleton? Armour? I can’t tell, but he’s not even flinching when the guards shoot him.”  

There was a long pause. “Do not engage, Hana. Wait there. We’re on our way.”

Hana pouted. “But I-”

“That is an order,” Morrison snapped.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Fine.”

Turning back to the security footage, her throat tightened as she realised the agent was advancing at an alarming rate. He had already entered the elevator, which was quickly progressing towards Port’s floor.

“He’s getting closer,” Hana said.

“Tracer!” Morrison yelled. “How far are you?”

“I- I need to recharge. Ten minutes. Absolute max.”

“I can’t wait that long!” Hana said.

“You have to,” Morrison replied. “I’m not letting a kid face a terrorist on their own.”

Hana froze. “What?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Morrison snapped.

“So if I was anyone else you’d let me go in?”

Morrison sighed. “We can discuss this later.”

She flicked back to the feed from outside of Port’s apartment. Her stomach churned as she watched the agent reach the door. He ripped it off of its hinges effortlessly. Inside the apartment, she saw two children, one boy and one girl, their eyes wide as they clung to each other. The Agent began to stride towards them.

“Change of plans,” Hana said, her robot coming to life with a whirr. “I’m going in.”

“I told you to wait!”

“There’s children in there!” She leapt over the edge, skidding down the side of the building. Landing on Port’s balcony, the tile floor cracked beneath her. She spun around, crashing her way through the glass doorway and stumbling into the living room. The Talon agent froze, his hand clasped around the arm of the screaming boy. Every inch of the man’s body was covered by a metallic exosuit. To Hana’s right, Port and his husband clung to their daughter.

Hana hit the speaker button on her dashboard. “Get behind me,” she yelled to the couple.

Port looked over at his son. “But James-”

“Trust me!”

As she spoke, their daughter’s look of shock morphed into one of recognition. “D.va!” she yelled, peeling herself away from their grip and stumbling towards her. Her parents paused, exchanging a glance at each other before following.

“Okay, Metal-butt!” she said, turning her attention to the Talon agent. “Put the kid down, and I’ll make sure I knock you out quickly!”

The agent cocked his head to the side. “Now, why would I do that?” He tightened his grip, and James gasped. Hana’s eyes narrowed. She thrust out one hand, casting her projectile shield around James. With the other, she fired a barrage of bullets. The agent recoiled, his grip loosening. Hana surged forward, grabbing James and knocking the agent off-balance. She pushed off the wall behind him, using her jets to quickly return to shield the family. She handed James back to his father, who quickly pulled him into a hug.

The agent crouched. She released another round of bullets, and his head snapped back as they struck. Within seconds, he leapt forwards, dodging and twisting between the bullets and colliding with Hana. She caught him easily, holding him firmly in her robotic arms.

“Game over, pal,” she said, grinning.

“I don’t think so.” He plunged one hand into the side of her robot. Sparks began to jump and dart along his arm.

The HUD turned red, the message “power depleting” flashing angrily.

“You know,” the agent said, his exosuit continuing to absorb the electricity, “I was just planning to leave the kids. But I think I’ll tear them apart first, just for you.”

Hana’s eyes widened, cold terror clawing at her insides. She felt like she was drowning, panic bubbling at her throat, each breath painfully shallow. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

One of the children began to sob.

“Power low,” the console beamed.

Her thoughts froze, and she tried to hold back the waves of nausea. A few more seconds, and she would be trapped inside her powerless suit, unable to do anything besides watch as the Talon agent massacred the family. If she let go, he’d be able to reach Port faster than she’d be able to react.

Her fingers clenched around her joysticks. She grimaced. “Get behind something,” she said, her voice tinny over the suit’s speakers. Port nodded, dragging his partner and the two children behind an overturned desk.

“Hana, what are you doing?” Morrison demanded.

“It’s D.va,” she said through clenched teeth, “and I’m saving their goddamn lives.”

“We’re nearly there!” This time it was Tracer’s voice over the radio. “Hold on for just a few more minutes, love.”

She glanced over at the flashing power warning. “I can’t do that.”

“Damn it, Hana!” Morrison barked. “That is an order.”

“I can’t- I can’t let them die.”

“You won’t.” It was Mercy’s turn to speak up. “We won’t. Nobody is dying tonight.”

She could see the Talon agent’s fierce grin beneath his visor. She tried to shove him backwards, feet digging into the floor, but he seized the opportunity to throw her off balance. Tearing one hand away from her grip, he turned his gun towards the family, the gun glowing as it began to charge,

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Hana!” Morrison yelled. She muted him, yanking a lever by her side.

The HUD changed. “Rerouting all power towards rear thrusters.”

The robot shot forward with a jolt, pinning Hana back in her seat. There was a metallic clang as she struck the talon agent, his shot going wildly off target and burning a hole in the wall. She wrapped her arms around him, tight. The two of them skidded into the next room, stopping only as the agent struck a concrete wall. He tried to slither out of her grip, but the strength of the jets was enough to keep him pinned. His grin had vanished.

She reached towards a button to her right, hesitating. Her fingers were trembling. She took a deep breath, and slammed her hand down.

“Self destruct in three…”

She turned back towards the agent, blinking back tears.

“Two…”

A sharp pain pierced through her chest. She forced a smile.

“One…”

The room filled with light.

~~~

Everything hurt.

Hana peeled open her eyes, blinking back the harsh fluorescent light. Her head was screaming. Sharp pain pulsed through her body with each heartbeat. The room was a sterile white, air thick with the scent of antiseptic. Every muscle burned as she rolled onto her side, crisp sheets rustling around her. The room was lined with various machinery, posters on the wall providing instructions and safety warnings.

Morrison sat in the chair beside her bed. His mask was off, head drooped forward and eyes shut tight.

She cleared her throat. “Morrison?” Her voice was barely a rasp, surprising her with its fragility, but he snapped awake and was on his feet within seconds. “Is everyone okay? Did we-”

He grabbed the front of her gown, yanking her closer to his face. The cloth cut into her back. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled.

She frowned, grabbing his hand and trying to peel open his grip. His fingers didn’t budge. “I was thinking that an entire family would be dead if I didn’t do something.”

His eyes narrowed. “And so you disobeyed a direct order?”

She let out a hysterical laugh. “So I should have let them die?”

He scowled, his grip tightening. “I trusted you Hana, but I was wrong. The battlefield is no place for a child!”

“Well? What would you have done?”

A painful silence fell across the room. Morrison’s shoulders rose and fell, his breathing laboured. He released his grip, and Hana fell back into the mattress. He turned away from her, choosing instead to stare out the window. His pose was stiff, hands clasped together behind his back

“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve had to bury?”

Hana’s eyes fell. Silence descended once again, only interrupted by the rattle of the fluorescent lights.

“I’ve lost everyone and everything I loved. And somehow, through some sick twist of fate, Overwatch is back and I’ve been given a second chance.” His voice softened before he continued. “Now, I’m terrified I’m going to lose everyone all over again.”

Hana swallowed, her gaze falling to the floor. “I know what that’s like. To lose someone you care about.” Her fingers clenched around the sheets, and her eyes began to sting. “The Omnics killed my parents. That’s why I joined. I didn’t want anyone else to feel that sort of pain.” She reached a hand out towards Morrison, placing it on his arm. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. “I guess... I forget sometimes that people care about me too.”

Morrison turned towards her, his eyebrows pressed together. He placed one warm hand on her shoulder, and gave her a sad smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, Hana.”

She shot forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Even through the thick leather of his uniform, she could feel his warmth. His hands hovered over her awkwardly, eventually coming to a tentative rest on her back. She allowed herself to relax into his arms. Despite his trepidation, his embrace was comfortingly firm, and she could feel her breathing slow to a relaxed rhythm. She let her eyes drift closed. “Thanks, Jack.”

Eventually, he pulled away, and Hana’s heart fell. “Now, young lady, you need rest. Doctors orders.” He ruffled her hair, fingers calloused, before turning and striding towards the door.

Hana could feel her heart beating at the inside of her chest. “Wait.”

He paused, one hand on the door handle. Turning his head to look back, he raised an eyebrow.  

She tried to swallow back the rising nausea. “Am I…” She cursed internally as she realised how much her voice was wavering. She forced herself to meet his eyes. Rather than the irritation she had expected, his expression was one of gentle curiosity. “Am I part of overwatch?”

Morrison smiled. “Welcome to the family, D.va.”