[Fanfic] A Waltz of One and Another

The quiet hum of the late night’s breeze sweeps over the coastal city of New Subic. What was once a Philippine base occupied by America was reused once again during the first Omnic crisis until it was rebuilt anew. The municipality showcases it recovery by lively streets designated as night markets, coastal walkways for those who wish to see, hear and smell the oceanic view, landmarks guide tourists alike along to new destinations; one such landmark is a simple white lighthouse, that despite the more advanced technology of the ships, still appeased the sailors and fishermen with its guiding light. Such a perfect spot was a place to temporarily house a certain vigilante. Not on the run per se, but more on ensuring a certain group of visitors as well like her are protected at all cost, a priority that even overcame their delusional claim for revenge.

Peering the area below from vantage point window, her blind fold like visor started checking signs of the life and vitality scans of everyone, actively organic and omnic alike within a 150km radius, with her vantage point it would be a few minutes for her to check if there are any irregularities in these scans that can tell signs of trouble afoot. The usual problems are annoying anti-omnic thugs trying or doing, at best, to bully and vandalize the streets, robbing people of money and resources, and at worst, an omnic or a person’s life. The most problematic are when larger terrorist groups will cause problems that even the local police and stationed soldiers will need some backup. One such of those terrorist groups is Talon.

Talon.

The Fall.

Her Fall.

Memories start rushing into the woman’s head and only could let out an disgruntled sigh. Such moments like those were even worse when she witnessed her own parents’ death and even more so than when she couldn’t always save her patients when she was still a doctor. So why does it bother her so much?

Death.

Because that was the final moments of Dr. Angela Ziegler, Overwatch’s head medical researcher and best field responding medic, before she perished along with the fall of Overwatch. All because of internal conflict that ended between Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison, the head of Blackwatch now turned ghost and terrorist, and former Strike Commander respectively. When she herself died in their Swiss headquarters.

Well. That’s what the world thought. That Dr. Angela Ziegler died, but that’s the stupidity one would get when they don’t fully check vital signs and only assume because of no pulse and rigor mortis that they made the mistake of a nano-tech exposed researcher just being in a stasis like coma. That when she finally escaped, found her technology and learned of the news of Overwatch’s disbandment and the like, did she realize: she had to take things to her own hands, even if it is morally ambiguous and breaking certain ethical codes.

The angel never really fell. She only came with broken wings and thirst to fight back. To become an adversary or Nemesis Talon will never see what killed them.

A computerized voice, similar to Overwatch’s Athena, got her attention as it stated that as of now the city is safe from possible trouble. Giving her order to remind her in 4 hours for another check-up, she paced back inside the room from her vantage point in the window. Recollecting her moments from the past always seemed to bring out the worst in her. It always just made her wish she had done it, like the multiple attempts she had thought of in the past. One extra dose of sleeping pills, a clean cut to the jugular just so it can be over, but Angel-- no, Nemesis knew that would defeat the purpose now from her mission.

A mindset to continue fighting, to continue helping but only when deemed needed and as an ally, that was her motto even before everything, when she began medicine, and still young that smiled with hope for the world. Her Hippocratic Oath still there within her body and soul despite the many mental breaks she had suffered due to the turmoils. She would heal as much as she can to the innocent and casualty, but when an enemy is down by her hand the best she could give really was the medical alternative: Mercy killing. Just because her oath told her to heal as much as possible despite limited options, doesn’t mean she can’t limit her enemies’ options as well to continue living.

Making her way to her makeshift table that contained her equipment,  she sat down on the accompanying chair. Fiddling through her computer that connects to her technology, Nemesis checked the status report of her suit and weaponry to see how functional can they still be. The same AI spoke out in response while she got to work and checked the dullness of her spear’s blade.

“Morrigan rapid response suit armor’s optimal functionality is at 84%, consider some physical checks to fix dents. Morrigan rapid response wings’ optimal functionality is at 63%, consider both physical and technological fixes as part of the right upper wing has been damaged and hard light feathers at the lower left wing is non functioning. Eostre blaster is at 88%, consider rebooting optimal power core for better healing link and faster round reload. Eostre spear--”

Looking up closely at the spear from her lap at its mention, it continued while she made sure to be careful while applying a nano-tech based blade sharpener, humming in its eerie purple glow to restore the used blade, and cautiously applying a shine to wipe any traces of human blood on it.

“-- optimal functionality is at 76%, blade is currently being sharpened and cleaned manually. Damage link boost is still optimal, retraction form has certain lag when changing forms, consider fixing retraction forms.”

“Thank you Zadkiel. Please command prompt suit for self-fixing troubleshoot code 347, tell me percentages by 20% intervals until it is complete and or if it comes across a problem. Consider a rest and a self-packing afterwards.”

Placing the spear back along with the other arsenal, Nemesis allowed her AI Zadkiel to start the process while she walked away to check her supplies. Supplies, both personal and medical/mercenary, have dwindled the past few days since she has been here, especially with growing civil tensions between the government and Talon’s clandestine influences, it has been problematic around these parts. No less because of Talon’s actions had the recalled Overwatch been rampant to stop the terrorist attacks. Just yesterday, a team lead by Winston, Tracer and Jack-- S.C. 76 was on the scene as various Talon agents, including Reaper and Widowmaker, made their appearance to ensure smuggled goods had been brought. They even stooped so low as to use street children as both carriers and bomb-strapped hostages.

It was a particularly nasty one yesterday, as multiple people were in the fray when it happened; lucky for Overwatch as a certain brooding black winged vigilante was on the scene to not only take down certain patrolling Talon snipers, sans the escaped Widowmaker, but also secretly healed up critical wounds of the victims to give the team less worry when brought to their medical wards stationed. She remembered the gleeful ‘thank you, luv!’ she got from Tracer, who zipped by after the mission was deemed a success, and a firm hand and a dependable smile held out for her by the former Overwatch poster boy Jack Morrison himself.

Jack Morrison.

She remembered when she held out her gloved hand to meet his did something awaken in her heart once more that she abruptly pulled away and flew as far away as possible from the man, while only muttering ‘it was nothing’ in the end. Stopping from her pacing away from her table, Nemesis-- Angela just wanted to bang her head onto the wall, with the notion that she still had her unharmed tech blinder like visor still on and that doing so will give in to long past emotions, she only heavily sighed in frustration at that her only reasons as to not do its.

‘How can I STILL be acting like a shy high school girl around him!? Every. Single. Time! Get a grip Ziegler! He doesn’t know you! All he knows is that you died. That I died. Angela Ziegler is gone.’

Clutching her beating heart, she tried to calm it down back to the almost steadily slow unfeeling one she had grown to tolerate. Clutching for her visor to remove it, she paced downstairs a bit to the bathroom the lighthouse had conveniently been given. Turning on the lights thanks to her supplies’ mini generator she kept in case of emergencies, she looked at the slightly rusted mirror.

Slight wrinkles and lines lightly patted her face as a scar went over her right eye and one peeking out from her left ear that almost courses close to her throat along the bottom of her jaw. Silvery grey eyes looked back at the mirror and remembered that without her visor, the nano-tech induced healing to it would strain her sight and would need a lot of rest if not too careful to avoid blindness. Her once adored golden blonde hair dyed a silver white to further avoid confrontation of her true identity pulled back into a messy high bun. Because of her exposure within also the fields of cosmetic and nano induced derma-health, a sullen yet youthful appearance still mistook her 37 year old self with a late 20 year old as her physique, dressed in a full body black suit that she always wore underneath her raven like armor, showed her body as something to be still admired for.

“Like I am planning on getting some any time soon, ja richtig.” Muttering the last part in German, she washed her face before going back up to see if her equipment is done with its self repair. With her visor placed on the completed arsenal, she decided to take a break, a break she so desired from all this fighting. As much as breaking bones and healing them, not on the same people, was all fun and stress, it tires people down to the core, and Angela was never one to get avoid it, even when she was a head doctor in a Switzerland’s hospital before her role into Overwatch.

Turning on the radio the lighthouse had on hand, she let it play music to brighten up the room, or herself, as she rummaged through her supplies for some filtered hot water and a coffee packet. Taking a disposable cup and stirrer, she let the radio show host say something in a mix between Filipino and English before continuing with another track while she mixed her coffee with the warm water. It played a song that is more than 50 years old yet tracks from the 2000’s-2010’s were very good. But that wasn’t what stopped Nemesis from stirring her coffee, already left to the side. It was the fact it was that song.

That song.

Her song.

Their song.

It was a catchy song; a song that seemed so mirthful and whimsical yet it told a story. A story about two people who loved one another so much that they were always thinking so much ahead for the other, whether it was buying a flower shop instead of just flowers or knowing that they’ll always be together even when their kids move on and be independent. It was a story about how two people who loved each very much didn’t want their time shortened or apart, always wanting to make sure their time was spent together so they can look back at it and smile at the memories they made. Memories of long ago. Memories of what was once a good life.

“We've got 50 good years left to spend out in the garden.
I don't care to beg your pardon,
We should live . . . until we die.”

Nemesis-- no, Angela found herself humming along with the radio’s tune, finding herself singing along with the song in her head as she started stepping around the spacious lighthouse room, dancing and swaying along in front of the windows that overlooked both the city and the sea as the song started picking up. Something within her felt like she was not Nemesis at the moment nor was she her former self Mercy of Overwatch before its downfall and her death. No, she felt more than that, she felt like she was Angela Ziegler again. A woman who was dancing along to the song in the loving arms of the man that always made her feel amazing.

Jack Morrison.

---

“We were barely 18 when we'd crossed collective hearts.
It was cold, but it got warm when you'd barely crossed my eye.
and then you turned, put out your hand,
and you asked me to dance.”

Laughter played around the slightly dim room as music kept on playing from a speaker and phone playing it. Fairy lights hastily strewn around one of Overwatch’s clinics, a clinic handled and owned by resident Field Medic Dr. Angela Ziegler. Said Dr. Angela Ziegler in the arms of resident high ranking soldier Jack Morrison as they slowly dance along to the song while they laughed out memories from even more memories past.

“Ahaha Jack! There’s no way you were driving to your high school on your tractor for 4 months!” Looking at his face with an amused smile, Angela couldn’t stop giggling at the idea of a teenage Jack riding a beat up, old tech like vehicle to get to school.

“It was true! I mean it was either Old Red the Tractor or one of my dad’s horses and believe me when I say those horses have higher maintenance needs than a rust bucket such as that tractor!” Defending his memory, which seemed like a fond one for Jack, Angela only giggled as she rested her head on his chest again, content at how things were now. Music, decorations, atmosphere, a hot man, who is really a big softy, to dance with in said overall ambiance, Angela couldn’t really ask for more. Humming in content, she found herself whispering out her last thought.

“It doesn’t get any better than this.”

“Uhh, actually . . . I-i . . . wanted to-- uhh-- ask you something.”

Jack started to tense up when he realized now was the perfect time. Peeling himself at least forearm’s length from Angela yet still holding on to her as seemed curious, Jack tried to calm his nerves but in the dim light with the music still playing and her looking amazing, especially with her hair let down from its usual ponytail, Jack is desperately looking for that usually calm and composed soldier self. And failing miserably.

‘Get your shit together Morrison! What would Ma’ and Pa’ think of you stuttering like an idiot!? What would Gabriel think!? Oh god! WHAT WOULD AMARI THINK!? Gabe would probably laugh and say “grow some balls!” and Ana would probably clutch onto mines with a “I’ve more balls than you, Jackie boy!. . . and I gave birth!” Ughh, It’s now or never Jack!’

Feeling his nerves coming back from the awful imagery in his head, he looked back at the woman in front of him. Curiosity shifted to concern and worry.

“Jack? Are you okay? Are you getting sick?” Concern painted Angela’s face when she saw his uneasy feeling that followed from his stuttering request.

“I knew Liao shouldn’t have cooked! I knew that shrimp from his seafood chowder looked bad!” Muttering to herself more, she held his arms as he looked like he was queasy, already rattling through various possible symptoms of food poisoning in her mind.

“Jack, do you need me to get you some Imodium A-D? Or maybe so Pepto-Bismol? I think I have some at my shelf--”

“Angela, would you be my girlfriend?!”

Silence followed for both of them, even as the music continued playing out its slow yet beautiful melody. Flushed faces met one another as both have yet to make a sound. A whole verse of the song just finished before one had attempted to react.

“I . . . what?” Angela was the first to break the melodious silence as a smile started appearing on her face and her eyes brightened from the realization of his sudden question. She couldn’t even finish her thought process before Jack continued, steadier this time around.

“I-i . . . Angela . . . Angel, I want to ask you if you would be happy being my girlfriend? I know we have only been on a few dates and while I feel like we are ‘it’, I don’t want to beat around the bush by assuming it if you aren’t on the same page. So, I want to properly ask you. Angie . . . Angel, will you please be my girlfriend?”

Jack looked at the beautiful blonde once again after he finished his piece only to be tackle hugged by her, almost toppling them both over as her body weight was practically on his neck and shoulders while legs tucked from the jump. Her arms around her neck as her head rested on his right shoulder, a whispering confirmation can be heard from the woman.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Jack’s mind-mouth coordination was skewed as it just asked a question to her answer. But finding himself smiling was already an indication.

“Yes I will be your girlfriend, Jack Morrison!” Looking at the man, her man, with a smile she pecked his nose with her lips before making sure she was on the ground again without stumbling from her sudden jump embrace. They still held each other as though they were too scared to let go from this dream come true. They smiled just as the song was finishing its last few lines, almost as if it wanted the two people to complete their love within its music’s span.

“Y’know, you look amazing with your hair down. It really brings out your beautiful eyes.” He smiled as he leaned forward. Nose brushing one another, eyes closing in as they finally connect.

They always say when you agree to a request, it should be sealed with a kiss. Maybe it was for the joke, but maybe right now it wasn’t.

---

“Jack? You okay luv?” A pat from Tracer’s hand onto his shoulder brought Jack Morrison back from his memories. A specific memory that involved music and dancing under little lights placed around the clinic. A fantastic memory that involved a dance, a Yes made and a kiss in the end.

“Haha, sorry Lena. I was just remembering some stuff from way back when.” Giving her an easy smile, Tracer smiled back and walked, more like zipped, back inside their small stationed camp. Even with Overwatch’s revival due to new conflicts many people, especially of the government and military kind, still don’t fully trust them so being allowed to at least use an unused station was already asking a lot from the public, something Jack was happy since it gave them a roof over their heads even for a bit. The deck that faced the coast line at night mesmerized Jack and it made him remember that night with Angela, and many more that followed.

‘Angela. Angie. . . My Angel, how you would have loved being here, continuously helping people and seeing the team come back from its revival. How I still miss you. There are days I wished that I was the one that took the fall when HQ fell. It was my fight with Reyes that killed you, not me.’ His thoughts lingered enough that he had to stop and decided to stand up and grab his coat. A good walk is something he needed, yet a good friend of his might see through his true intentions.

“Jack, are you going out tonight?” His friend Ana Amari approached him; a sniper by day but just your simple eyepatch and pajama wearing bad ass senior citizen lady by night. Ever since her sudden reappearance from her “death”, it always gave Jack some hope that maybe, just maybe, she’s still alive and she somehow denied death even when she was buried.

“Yeah Ana, I just want to take a walk for a bit. Maybe see the sights for a bit and enjoy our stay here before we’re heading out for Java in two days. Want to come with?” Ending it in a teasing manner, Jack smiled back at his fellow Overwatch founder.

“No need, boy. Despite the enhancements done to me, age still tells me when I need rest. Besides, knowing a daughter like Fareeha who would worry over her mother despite being a soldier can break my heart.” Shaking her head at the thought of her daughter possibly using her combat suit to scout the whole of the town for her mother “missing” was laughable but also sweet, Ana noticed Jack’s chuckle.

“Gee Amari, didn’t think you’d go sentimental and senile on me!” His joking tone fell flat to Ana’s ears as she saw right through him, like always, and knows that he is still in a deep internal conflict once more, something that lies unrest within him that demands closure. She decided to tell him outright now before he hurts himself.

“At least I let my heart continue moving forward, what about you Morrison? Have you finally buried her when she has been buried for half a decade? I don’t want to see you pine over the dead when they have stayed dead. It breaks my heart even more seeing the living be more dead than those 6 feet under.” Ana didn’t mean it in any way insultingly when she said her words, but she knew Jack was still thinking about that time in their Swiss HQ. When the fall of Overwatch happened because of internal strife that lead to him and Reyes fighting. It ended with casualties and the fall of Overwatch, particularly of their once medical angel Mercy. His girlfriend . . . and only known to her and ironically Gabriel that time, his hoping to be something more. Hearing his good friend tell him that, he finally decided to drop the fake smile and smiled slightly yet sadly at how he finally found his words for her.

“I-i . . . I’m sorry Ana, I just can’t. It’s been 5 years but I still can’t let go, let alone forgive myself for Angie’s death. Heck, when you made yourself known to us during our operations in Cairo, a part of me believed, prayed, that maybe she defied death as well. That somehow the real angel of mercy gave her back to us. To me. Call me crazy but I don’t want to give up when I know my heart is still for her.”

Deciding that tonight was not to be one of those nights, Ana decided to let him be and Jack took the silence as a confirmation to grab his coat.

“I know you care for me Ana and I appreciate that, I really do. I’ll just go out for a bit, I swear. I always have my tactical visor eye piece with me at all times, so I can use its emergency signal and communication when needed. I also have my hidden holster and gun and knife ready if I get attacked. Don’t worry, I won’t be too far. Just along the coastal walk until probably the lighthouse then I’ll pace right back. Promise!”

Gesturing his left hand in a jokingly mock soldier salute to his fellow soldier, Ana just smiled and laughed it off before walking back inside the hall with a muttered ‘take care, good night and don’t do anything stupid’.

Stepping out into the November evening, Jack was greeted by the smell of the night sky’s mix of sea and cold breeze. Walking a bit till he reached the coastal walkway, he had been greeted at least by a few kind people while at the same time some looked like they know him and are suspicious of him. It should no longer come as a surprise when he was the face of nearly every Overwatch recruitment poster and advertisement. It doesn’t help as well that prior to Overwatch’s recall thanks to Winston, he was working along various anti-terrorist organizations on the front lines as a volunteer soldier, taking on challenges that would teeter on suicide and making a statement that operatives of Overwatch, even if disbanded, will continue fighting for peace.

The walk had been lined with night markets, food establishments and souvenir shops. Jack saw how the people continued doing their needed working and enjoying despite what happened yesterday. It really puts in a perspective on how people can continue progressing despite casualties and obstacles.

Nearing the port of the coastal walk which had the landmark lighthouse, he started noticing something from the lighthouse in his view. Years of intensive training and super soldier enhancements has given Jack a good eye for observation and his sight is giving him an idea that something is up with the lighthouse, or rather is up at the lighthouse. Quickly taking his tactical right eye piece from his inner jacket pocket and placing it on, he quickly scoped it to confirm his readings: someone was definitely up there.

‘A sniper perhaps? A Talon operative?’ He quickly set out to ask around, as casually as possible, regarding the lighthouse among the citizens.

Thankfully, some answered that its light is still being used but more of a decoration than a use of navigation and that it is left automated. Additionally, no one can get up there properly due to unfinished rebuilding of the stairs and flooring all the way to the top, so the municipality decided to block of the stairways and floors so people don’t try and get up there, lest they have some sort of harness, flight or enhance ability to go up without hurting themselves.

‘At least the last one will get me up there.’

Looking back at the lighthouse, he started planning out his strategy of going up there, investigate and call for backup should it be necessary. Jack readied himself when he jogged, inconspicuously, to reach the side of the lighthouse facing the door. Finally getting the jammed door to open, he opened it quietly enough to get in and checked the surroundings if the coast is clear.

‘So far no one stationed at ground floor and as far as the sixth floor, but I can’t be so sure yet.’ Analyzing his possible route, he made his way up. Grateful that he had been handling obstacle runs and a bit of free running in his time both in and out of Overwatch, he went through the multiple floors until he was nearing the top. As he was closing in to the top, he took a breather and was ready to investigate even further using his eye piece when he started to hear music.

Careful in his steps as to avoid being heard, he listened closer to the music. The closer he got to the top and the source of the music, the more the music seemed to be familiar. It also seemed like whoever was up there was doing a lot of walking, as steps, albeit irregular, were being made.

‘That or there are more of them.’ Jack mused.

The song became clear that it was a song he knew. A song he remembered all too well; the song he remembered dancing to with Angela when he asked her officially. He also caught on to someone humming along with the song, and the steps sounded more like dancing of one. Humming and dancing?

"Even if the sun stops waking up over the fields
I will not leave, I will not leave 'til it's our time.
So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side."

‘Someone’s humming along to a song and dancing in a supposedly unreachable top of a lighthouse? That’s peculiar, though I shouldn’t be quick to judge knowing the people I have worked and fought with.’ Jacked mused in his head.

Ducking against a wall that leads to the stairs going to the top floor, he can make out a shadow dancing along with the song and he couldn’t help but almost hum along with the stranger. Peering a bit to the side, he noticed his suspicions were right: a healthy looking woman in around twenties to thirties in a full body black suit, silver hair in a high bun dancing to the tune of his song with Angela, while at the side looked like armor and equipment though Jack couldn’t make due as to what it is exactly. Her face away from him as she danced in front of the window.

Trying to lean in closer was Jack’s mistake as his commander eye piece released a sound that signaled Overwatch’s emergency distress call. That in itself was enough to blow his cover.

‘Holy shit! My cover is blown!’ He didn’t have enough time to fully muffle out the signal, but enough to not have it verbalize its distress call, before hearing the woman leap for her weapons and demanding he come out unarmed. Having had no choice but to show himself, Jack knew he had to play the innocent game if he wanted to get out of this alive.

---

"It was the winter of '86, and all the fields had frozen--

BEEP!

BEEP!

“Location verified! Requesti--”

The sound brought Nemesis back to reality as she realized her AI Zadkiel wouldn’t make that sound. Which means . . .

‘Someone’s here!’

Quickly leaping for her weapons, she readied her spear and blaster at where the sound was coming from: at the edge of the stairs. Pulling out her hair from her bun and putting back on her visor, she readied herself for a possible all out war, even without her tech suit on to protect her. The radio long been unplugged during her scuffle to her equipment.

“Who is there! Come out from your spot unarmed or this will end bloody . . . for you.” Anger seethed out from her as she realized she let her memories and past emotions make her vulnerable for an attack.

‘Shit, how did they get up here? Did they have flight tech like I do?’ Readying her spear with its damage boost glow unto itself, she started stepping forward to further her threat. Readying herself, her perpetrator came out of his hiding space. It was--

Oh God.

“Ja-- S. C. 76?” Confusion came over her as she noticed the man in front of her with his hands up where she can see it. Dressed in nothing but grey pants, white sneakers and a hooded blue jacket with his iconic blue Overwatch right eye tech piece on, her former love and apparently snooper came in full view.

“Nemesis. I come in peace. Please put your weapons down. I’ll put down mines if you want.” To show his deal, he pulled out his gun from his secret chest holster and placed it on the floor, kicking it to the side until it reached the forgotten radio, far away enough that he’d be speared and then shot first if he tried to grab it again. Hoping that her visor hasn’t tried scanning him for his secret Swiss Army knife hidden in his right arm, he relaxed when she saw her drop her arm to the side which held her blaster and relaxed her other hand from its grip on the spear.

“Why are you here? Have you come to arrest me?” Her gaze, despite being in her visor, seemed to shake Jack but he kept on, finding it in himself his usually calm and composed soldier self.

“No-no! I-i was just in the neighborho--” Trying to mitigate the situation, Jack realized his mistake dealing with the brooding woman. With her fighting stance ready one again and her distance gap closer than before and spear’s tip making almost contact with his neck.

“Can it! Why are you really here!” Annoyance at a high, she readied her spear with both hands, leaving her blaster hooked onto a strapped belt on her body suit. Coming in closer, she pointed the blade a closer distance to his neck.

“Easy, I really did not mean harm when I investigated the lighthouse. I was out on a walk to check the town and I happen to notice something on top of the lighthouse. With my tech eye piece, I noticed it was a person so naturally I asked around. Turns out BOTH of us shouldn’t have been able to be up here so I assumed for the worst that it was a sniper and or a Talon operative spying on the area, possibly for Overwatch.” Taking the time to talk, he lightly moved the blade away and she seemed to allow it as he gave himself more space from the spear after explaining himself.

“Turns out, it was just our very own resident vigilante healer.”

“Who said anything about being a resident of yours?” Scoffed at the remark, she decided to let him be as she walked away from him and leaving her spear back with her armor. Looking back to her former lover, she decided to silently make himself home within her temporary abode.

Jack took her walking back to her stuff as a gesture for him to be allowed to stay, or live for another few minutes. Looking around the spacious room, Jack always seemed to be intrigued by the woman in front of him. She always seemed to be there when and where Overwatch was or is, ready to help out with her abilities in healing, which just seemed ironic due to her overall look and personality or in her other specialties that would be ethically debatable.

But then again, there are reports of a certain vigilante with her description going around, doing a string of attacks on various organizations and corporations that seem to have something to do with former corrupted Overwatch, Blackwatch and Talon; a winged woman with a tech like blade and gun that goes around ending certain people while also stabilizing and healing innocents, a true angel of retribution and justice as they tend to call her in media..

‘More like a raven out for vengeance’ Jack thought out loud when he remembers that Nemesis is in front of him.

“What did you say?”

‘Shit! I didn’t think I said it out loud?’ Jack tried to calm himself again and make a half truth.

“I just said how media depicts you as a merciless winged mercenary fails to describe your more . . . sublime yet angelic appearance.”

A raised eyebrow was all she had for him for the next few seconds.

‘Smooth Jack, smooth. Did you try that with Angie when she was still alive? I wouldn’t be surprised is she chucked that spear into me for that lame McCree level flirting’

A slight chuckle from her didn’t make him feel any better.

“Heh you’re not so bad yourself, soldier boy. Though I pictured you more clean and boy-scoutish than this Don Juan you put on.” She went to saunter towards him with a slight smirk on her face.

Seeing his surprised face was enough for her to laugh before leaving him to turn back on her radio. Somehow the DJ host had decided to replay the same song she was dancing to two minutes ago. Silence accompanied both of them as they allowed to let the song to overwhelm them, without the other knowing how it really affects the other. Their memories reclaiming them once again to that moment. The moment that meant so much for them.

“And just like him, she never stops,
Never takes the day for granted,
works for everything that's handed to her,
Never once complains.”

“Y’know, you look amazing with your hair down.”

Eyes, well eyes meeting visor, met as the words escaped Jack’s mouth after letting the music bring them to that memory past.

‘What. Did. I/He. Just. Say!?’

Both thoughts seemed to agree on how it sounded so familiar. How it felt like it was only meant for them to hear after so long. How it felt so right for him to say and her to hear.

Coming closer to the man who said it, she let her hand gripping onto the spear drop to her side, with the weapon left on the ground. Using her free hand, she let it rest on the center of his chest until it met his other hand and holding onto it, they felt it again. That spark. The memory flooding their senses and controls as they let the music and tolerable ambiance take them back to that memory from years ago.

“I said . . . you look amazing with your hair down. I said that . . .” He felt his other hand roam and grab her hair lightly into a bunch and pull it in a gesture as though to help her put up a ponytail. A ponytail he remembers so vividly, sans its beautiful blonde hue gone. Letting go of her hair, he stroked the side of her head and felt her other hand help him unlatch the visor he unconsciously wanted to remove but now finally allowed to.

“that it really brings out your beautiful eyes. I said that to you.” Still holding onto the visor as it still covers her eyes, he almost removed it to see the stunning eyes to continue the memory driven action when he heard voices from below. Panicked and shouting voices addressed to him.

“Jack! We heard your distress call!”

“Tracer, scout ahead if you can but be careful of obstacles!”

“Gotcha Winston!”

“Morrison! I told you to not get into anything stupid!”

“Calm down Ana, we will find him. Jack!”

The voices below was enough alarm for Angela to latch back her visor and start pacing around the room, packing as much as she can and equipping back her response suit.

“Wha? Wai--” A finger landed gently on his lips as she continued multitasking for her escape.

“There is no time! Help me pack up”

“ . . . please Jack.”

Coming out more of a sincere demand than request, Jack just silently but hastily helped her pack up her stuff until she was at the window’s edge, ready for the escape.

“Wait! I have a lot of questions!” Jack finally found his voice after helping her as he grabbed onto her arm, hoping she wouldn’t leave him.

“I know you do. But now is not the time, maybe never until everything is over.” Looking back at him, she started hearing the footsteps near them.

“But wait, please promise me you’ll answer my questions till then!” He felt a twinge of desperation in confirming anything since nothing is making sense as of the moment. A moment of pure desperation to hope to make some rationality in what he had learned today.

“I promise. And I’m sorry for this.” Leaning forward, she leaned his chin with her hand to give him a kiss. A kiss that was much needed and was meant so much in just a chaste interaction.

I’m sorry for everything.

I wish I never made you sad.

I’ll always be there for you.

I’ll keep my promise.

I will always love you.

Realization struck Jack when she finally backed away, but not before giving him a swift punch to the gut so to keel him over. Reeling in from the pain, he only hears glass breaking, his teammates reaching him and huddling over him to check if he was alright, and the steady sounds of sea and air.

He looked up and only saw concerned faces around him, all asking what happened but none of that mattered. He steadily got up and peered out the broken window, not caring for the glass shards digging into his hands as he leaned forward to look for her. A futile attempt as the cloudy evening made her escape successful.

He was trying to look for her again. To look for the angel that he thought had left him. The very Angel that never really fell, but always watched over him.

Unbeknownst to those left in the lighthouse, the song from the forgotten radio finally finished its last verse, as though to finish this tale of two lovers.