La Muerta part 24

The man straightens his tie,

“Mrs. McCree, this interview was held with the understanding
that you would give us your side of the story as well as the location of two
key Talon members.” He says.

“That’s what you wanted, even though my arrest was under
false pretenses, I’ve been threatened, multiple times, and as to your promise
of safety for my family, I would like to remind you of the Talon operative you
had working for you?” I say.

He opens the folder where my file is kept; I read over the
contents when the first interviewer left. He clears his throat and sets the
papers down,

“It appears you are correct.”

I nod; La Muerta leans close and whispers, “You’ve got ten
minutes to get out of here. The Talon agent was supposed to check in twenty
seconds ago.”

I grunt, “How about you take my side of the story, as well
as this piece of key information: The Talon Agent you have in custody was
supposed to check in a short time ago. They’re planning to bomb this facility
in ten minutes.”

I can see the man’s eyes widen in fear; a cold chill runs up
my spine. Apparently, I have longer than some of the other people in this
building.

Modern Day

 

Angel and I enter
the room and stop. Our father is lying across our mother’s legs, his head buried
against her stomach, arms wrapped around her hips.

She chuckles and shakes her head at him, “You silly man.”

Our father grunts, “I haven’t seen you in over two decades.
Cut me some slack.”

Our mother glances up and focuses on us; her eyes are filled
with joy and pain.  Torment, when she
looks at my brother, the son she never saw. She blinks back tears and glances
down to where our father lays,

“And what do you think our children would say if they saw
you?” she asks.

“They’d understand. And I know they’re standing in the
doorway, Lia.” Our father says.

I take Angel by the arm and lead him forward, stopping a
moment to tap our father on his shoulder,

“Papa, please move.” I say.

He grumbles about fairness, before rolling to the side and
propping himself up on his elbow. My mother and I stare at each other for a
long moment, before tears blind me and I choke on a sob.

“Baby girl,” she whispers, pulling me into a hug I’m not
sure either of us will let the other go from, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Two decades, nearly three, of not seeing her, not smelling
her perfume, or hearing her laughter. And now, she’s right here. My mom is
back. I understand exactly why my father never wanted to let her go. Even with
my eyes close I can tell Angel is retreating, and pull back to face him,

“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask.

He flinches as if struck, “I…” he takes a breath, “… this is
your family, hermana. I shouldn’t
intrude.”

My mother clears her throat and waits till he faces her,
“You were stolen from me. When you were taken out of the room not breathing,
they said they would try to bring your back. When they brought a lifeless baby
back, part of my heart went with him. It was only after I’d gotten home from
the hospital, settled in to journal a week afterwards that I saw the future.
That I saw my son fully grown. You can’t imagine how angry I was that you were
taken from me… or how happy I was knowing you still lived. Angel, no matter
what, there will always be a place in this family for you. I know I wrote that
multiple times. Don’t tell me I didn’t. I’m not that forgetful.”

Angel is sniffing back tears by the time she’s done; Michael
steps into the room and gives him a small shove. He stumbles forward into our
mother’s arms. For a moment, my brother is tense, before he wraps his arms
around our mother and holds her as if she raised him from birth. I glance back
at our uncle as he tries to slip away, and finds our father is already standing
in his way.

“He’s not the only one. We will find Simon, Mike, and when
we do, you’re both coming to stay with us. Understand?” He gives his twin a
light punch to the arm.

Michael snorts and repeats the gesture, “Bossy as always, eh
Bossman?”

“Learned from the best, remember?” He asks.

Jesse groans, “There’s two of you? One was bad enough.”

My father glares at him while my uncle laughs; my mother
finally releases my brother and wipes away his tears with her thumb,

“It’s alright miho.
It’s a lot to take in.” She says.

He shakes his head and sniffs; he’s even more of a mess than
I am. He glances at me,

“You’re as bad as I am right now.” He says.

I laugh, “I was the thinking the same thing actually.”

My mother reaches out and takes my hand; a soft squeeze and
I feel my tears welling up again. My mom’s alive. She’s really alive.

I practically leap into her arms again and she hugs me
tightly as I start bawling into her hospital gown. Angel sits down beside her
and rubs my back; after a few minutes she pulls him into the hug too. I’m not
sure who’s crying harder, me, Angel, or our mom.

*************************

Jack manages to find several boxes of tissues. I’m sure
we’ll use them all by the time we stop. He’s not immune to the waterworks
either; as soon as she smiles at him, big, strong Jack starts crying and hugs
her too. At least no one’s going to make fun.

After we can finally part with her, we go into the living
room where the rest of our family is waiting. My father stays behind; I’m not
sure if they need private time or are “Catching up”.

Honestly, I’m okay with not knowing.

Michael explains his half of the events:

She asked him to keep this place up and running, maintaining
it as best he could without making TinTwo mad enough to bite him. After his
first base was attacked, and his husband taken, he and Angel moved here.
Angel’s girlfriend at the time was a spy.

Mid sentence, Angel turns a sickly shade of green and asks,
“You don’t think she was… a reanimated person, do you?”

That thought crosses all our minds, along with a feeling of
sympathetic nausea. There’s no real way to know at this time…

Afterwards, I ask about the journal; Angel retrieves it from
his bags, and hands it to me.

It was one of mothers leather bound writing journals, the
kind she used to keep all the days thoughts in. Instead of her usual relaxed
script, she wrote in tiny letters, detailing everything, from her first visions
of his living with uncle Michael and Simon, to the very moment he handed me the
journal. Oddly enough, she gave him directions, told him where to find friends
of hers, money she’d stashed various locations. Midway through flipping through
the book, she wrote a short sentence for me,

“I helped him because unlike you, he didn’t have a Jack or
an Ana. He was running for his life more times than he was safe. If the fates
were different, you better believe I’d have helped you as well.”

After what I assume is Michael and Simon taking him in, the
journal skips wide chunks of time. Pieces of advice for the break-up, how to
prove his innocence when his friend framed him in highschool, how to set his
nose after he got into a fight.

I realize she was right; Ana helped me through my first
break-up, when the popular girl was picking on me, and Pharah helped me when
that same popular girl sicked her creepy ass boyfriend on me.

The conversation goes on without me, but by the time I come
to the end of the journal, with her wishing my brother the best of luck and
telling me not to worry, she hadn’t gotten weird cravings either, the others have
caught up.

“So,” Sombra says, “There’s a good chance these people have
literally dug up our pasts, right?”

Michael nods, “There’s a good chance, yes.”

Sombra shakes her head, “Great. Think you can teach me how
to hack them?”

Michael snorts, “Yes. But can you keep up, is the question.”

She huffs before throwing out her hand; Michael yawns as
Sombra… fails, to hack him.

Oh boy.

My uncle starts tapping on a holo screen on his arm and
Sombra literally gets a taste of her own medicine. Blinking, we all stare at
him, before he grins and releases Sombra from… what I’m assuming is an entire
body paralytic?

She blinks before saying, “Right. Respect your elders. Got
it.”

Michael nods, “Come on chica.
Let’s give you a crash course in my style of hacking.”

As they depart, I see a flash of crimson and see more bodies
added to the pile surrounding me.

Angel and Michael.

 *********

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 23: An Overwatch Fanfiction

The man stares at me; I can see the wheels turning, the
shock ebbing as his eyes turn pitying.

That’s… I’m sorry.

I shrug, “It is was it is. I learned to deal.”

He clears his throat again before pulling out a folder, then pushes a pen and a sheet of paper across the table, They’re willing to offer you a full pardon
for your part in these events. We just need to know the whereabouts of Reaper
and Sombra.

I stare at the paper, before pushing it back towards him,

“Even if I did know where they are right now, I wouldn’t
tell you.”

Modern Day

Angel and I hurry over to where our father stands and help
him carry our uncle over to the couch. Angel cracks his knuckles and places his
hands over our uncle’s side; my brother’s eyes change to a dark, earthy brown,
and a few droplets of blood drip from his finger tips onto the wound.

Our uncle hisses, before glancing down; the blood is fused
the wound closed, and I can it begin to knit. Our father helps him sit up and
Angel steps back,

“Are you okay?” Our father asks.

Our uncle stares at him, “Depends: Did Talon attack my base
two years ago?”

Our father blinks before shaking his head, “No. What
happened? Where’s–?”

“Taken. He was taken two years ago.” Our uncle whispers.

“Who was taken?” I ask.

Our father glances at me, “My brother-in-law, Simon.”

***************

Uncle Michael is sitting by himself in the darkened
room, head bent over his… he called it something long and convoluted. Angel
calls it his Hacking Shot.

Angel and our father, along with the rest of my family… our
family… I’m going to have trouble saying that.
Anyway, our family is resting, or eating, or, knowing Jack and my
father, practicing their one-up-manship in the shooting range. Angel’s probably
with them, or perhaps he’s keeping an eye on our mother.

Mom… my twin… my father…

This seems like a dream that I’m afraid I’m going to cruelly
wake up from.

“Yes, Sobrina?”

I glance up, “Wanted to come check on you.”

He chuckles, “Angel
never likes leaving me alone for too long anymore. Worse mother hen than your
father, I swear.”

I pause when TinTwo brushes against me, “Mom said he doesn’t
like you; why’s he here in the dark with you?”

My uncle turns in his chair, “He’s making sure I don’t do
anything I’ll regret.”

As if proving it, Tin Two growls; I hush him, before approaching
my uncle. He shares some similarities with my father, same eyes, same nose and
chin. But it’s the way his eyes focus on me, the way his mouth curves into a
smile…

I can’t believe people couldn’t tell them apart.

As if hearing me, he chuckles, “Oh they could after a time.
Especially after puberty.”

Wait… can he?

“Only a bit. A side-effect of the diablo living inside me. Likes to spy on peoples thoughts. Or
control them.” He sets his gun down before clapping his hands.

The lights go up a degree, but I notice him squinting, “He
doesn’t like the light?” I ask.

My uncle shakes his head, “Hates it with a passion. I
usually wore sunglasses to compensate. Unfortunately, the ones I was wearing today
got shot off my person. As in, where I normally keep them.” He patted his
injured side gently.

“Mom knew.” I say.

He shakes his head, “Gerard knew. He kept my secret when I
joined the counter terrorism section of OverWatch. More public than my brother,
but considering I had most of my features covered at the time… no one knew.”

“Except my father.” I say.

He nods, “My natural abilities, combined with the interests
in computers, engineering and data mining made me a natural fit. Didn’t hurt my
boyfriend at the time was the co-manager. Simon stepped down fully after I joined,
probably because he… well…” His face turns a bright shade of pink, “nevermind.
Um… not the kind of thing I should be talking about with my niece.”

I snort, “Had trouble walking, did he?”

My uncle turns beet red before clearing his throat, “More
like sitting but I digress.”

I burst out laughing, “I feel his pain. My fiancée and I
are… well sometimes we get more active than we mean to.”

My uncle chuckles, “Apt description of Simon and I as well.
I um… is what Gabriel said true? That they’ve been bringing the dead back to
use against us?”

I nod, “Unfortunately. My mother died in the explosion that
leveled the Sweden base.”

He blanches, “I’ve been keeping my head down for a long
time; I knew the base went up but… I had no idea she was inside it.”

I take a deep breath, “I was with her; if not for her
actions I… might be the one unconscious right now.”

“Oh, nina,” he
walks forward and moves to hug me, only to stop, “I’m so sorry. Simon… he
pushed me out of the way of some falling beams. He was pinned and… he told me
to run. If it wasn’t Talon and he survived… I can’t imagine how much he must
hate me.”

I shake my head, “He told you to go. He didn’t want to see
you die or get hurt. I can’t imagine he could hate you for doing what he told
you to do.”

My uncle laughs, wiping his eyes, “I don’t know but it… it
feels like he should, you know?”

I turn as my father enters the room; for a moment the twins
stare at each other before my father walks forward and embraces his brother. My
uncle hugs him back. They don’t say anything, but I can feel this is a
beginning of them healing.

Or at least, I hope it is.

**********

Angel is in the kitchen, eating a sandwich with so much meat
and cheese I’m surprised he even added the tomatoes and lettuce. He sets a bowl
of chilli in front of me and my mouth waters,

“You make this?” I ask.

He nods, “Yeah. Uncle apparently made sure the fridge and
pantry were stocked with fresh supplies a week or so ago.”

I notice his tattoos are gone, and he smiles, “Part of Quetz
manifesting. I don’t have them normally, though I’ve been tempted to replicate
a couple of them.”

I nod, “Uncle told me he and Uncle Simon were raising you
together. Also said you took Simon’s supposed death pretty hard.”

Angel nods, “Simon was… its not in a stereotype way, but he…
acted more like a father to me than Michael did. Michael was the uncle, he did
the uncle things. Simon was the one who taught me to shave, taught me tie a
tie, taught me how not to botch a first date with a girl. Kinda felt like
Michael was uncomfortable raising his brother’s kid.”

I smile, “Simon was bi? Or just knew how to talk to girls?”

Angel chuckled, “Bi. Michael admitted he was always nervous
Simon would find someone else; he had twice the number of options after all.
Simon always told him that even with that number, he still would choose
Michael. The sweetness almost made me gag every time.”

I close my eyes, “Reminds me of when mom and dad used to do
the same thing.”

Without speaking, we reach across the counter and take each
other’s hand.

“You ever feel… I don’t know… like there should be someone in your life, but isn’t?” Angel asks.

“Yeah. All the time.” I reply.

“But not now?” Angel asks.

“Not now.” I say.

We share a smile when Jesse walks in, “Oh, sorry, didn’t
mean to spoil a moment.”

I sigh, “Angel
this is Jesse McCree.”

Angel and Jesse share a smirk, “We’ve met a couple of
times.” My brother says.

Jesse laughs, “He means he’s pulled my fat outta the fire a
couple of times.”

“You two know each other?” I say.

They nod. I’m not surprised.

“Oh great. Two against one. Finally evened the odds against
me, huh?” I ask Jesse.

He pulls me into a hug and kisses my temple, “Doubtful. Even
if I had an army, I’d always be at your mercy.”

My cowboy could charm oil out of a snake, I swear.

“But,” he says, “that’s not why I came to find you two. Your
Ma’s awake, and she’s asking to see her kids.”

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 20

…. Let’s talk about
something else for a bit… perhaps, a happy time you remember?

Why? Oh… I get it. You can see her in the glass can’t you?
Okay… Happier time?

It was a small get
together after I moved in with Ana and Pharah. Jack cooked hot-dogs and
hamburgers on a grill plate in her kitchen, while Ana just rolled her eyes. I
only remember two cookouts we had, but I missed hamburgers and hotdogs… even if
they were partially burnt. Or maybe I just missed being to able to talk to my
uncle with worrying about interference or someone tracing the call. Ana cooked
a small lunch for herself and Pharah, but I remember the biggest stink when
Pharah tried a hotdog with mustard and started asking for more.

I also remember Jack apologizing and Ana just shaking her
head.

Hmm. What’s wrong?

…. Um… why is she
doing that?

What? Oh! She knows the other interviewer is behind the
glass. She’s wondering if she can break it and get to him before security can
pull him out of the room.

Modern Day

The elevator ride is the longest one of my life. I don’t
know what’s at the end of it, and part of me doesn’t want to know. I glance
over at my father; he’s not looking any happier or excited than I am. Sombra is
fidgeting with her gloves while Jack and Jesse are trying their best to appear
calm. Jack’s pretty good at it; Jesse, not so much.

The elevator slows and finally stops; as the doors open, a mass
of darkness greets us. As I take a tentative step forward, we all hear a loud,
low growl; Jesse and Jack draw their guns, while Sombra starts typing looking for a biological source to hack. I glanced slowly at my father,

“He’d be dead by now.” I whisper.

He swallows, “Worth a shot. I’ll keep an eye out in case it’s not another test.”

I nod but something tells me it is another test…

“Tin Tin?” I call.

The growl stops, then i hear a bark. Followed by a dog groan before repeating it, as if trying to say “Come on. You know what to do.”

“W-who’s a good boy?” I say.

The bark comes again, with a soft panting, “Who’s a good boy?“ i ask again. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

Another bark then shuffling claws clacking on hardwood.

I open my mouth but i can’t say anything. My father does, “You are Tin Tin.”

A happy bark and the lights go up; we see an omenic duplicate of Tin Tin, the dog we had to put down because someone poisoned him.

A sob escapes me, as he pads over to where i’m sitting and licks my face; a fake tongue, but i don’t care.

I hug him then look around; sobs start tumbling from my mouth like a waterfall. She reconstructed the whole one story house we lived in when we weren’t in bases or traveling. My father swallows and i hear a cigar drop to the floor,

“That’s your house.” He whispers.

Tin Tin barks and runs back to the sliding glass doors which open on their own. He stops in the foyer, and drops his front two paws, his tail wagging fiercely, before barking and running into the living room. As we step inside, he returns with a bright red ball, worn from ages of use. I gently toss it towards the den, where all breakable objects had been removed. He bounds after it,

“Welcome home.”

I turn when i hear my mother’s voice; a hologram of her appears in front of me for a brief second before vanishing.

“Sombra,” we hear, “you can bring them in now. Tin Tin knows friends from foes. Besides, he loves playing, and hasn’t had a playmat in… decades at this point.” She’s talking to us through the speakers dotting the house.

But while the walls, furnishings and style are right, the technology is… too new. Too recent. Sombra blinks before taking a step into the living room, and setting down a series of her teleporters.

She presses a button and Ana, Rein, Pharah, Bridgette, Genji, Hanzo, Rian and Mei, plus two little girls that had to be Mei and Hanzo’s daughters, appear. She turns and glances at me, stunned.

“How’d she know?” Jesse asks.

The wall in front of me divides, revealing a room with must be one of the control consuls. Before i can stop myself i walk straight ahead, feeling Jack and my father on either side of me. As soon as we’re inside the walls close behind us and the blank screen in front of us flickers to life.

Three chairs glide from their compartments in the room; we each sit down and wait.

My mother’s image begins moving, and i realize it’s a recording. She sighs,

“I don’t think any parent ever wants to see that look of pain and betrayal on their child’s face and know they caused it.” She says.

“So… you did know.” I whisper.

She nods, “Let me explain. If you’re going to be angry, i might as well give you a reason to be, right?”

I flinch; when i got in trouble for something i didn’t understand, i would sometimes do something i did understand was wrong, shouting that.

My mother leans back, her surroundings my parents bed room, “I met your father when my brother and he were chosen to lead the initial attack against the omenics. My brother was chosen to be the head of Overwatch because your father is… difficult to deal with sometimes. Ana became head of the strike team, and your father eventually became the head of Blackwatch. But i fell in love with him between those events. Otherwise, i imagine you would have never met Jesse.”

She focuses on me and shakes her head, “I can’t even be mad or tell you off. I married your father, after all.” she laughs but there’s no mirth in it. She covers her face with her hands, “God. I can’t even think about him without seeing what he’ll become. These powers… they’re growing and i’m having trouble controlling them. I already know i passed them on to you, so i pray you’re having an easier time of it.”

She closes her eyes and whispers, “Of course you’re not. Fate can never be that kind, can she?”

“I knew about his past, about the violent temper he hid inside himself and only used against targets he believed deserved it. I knew about Reaper before he ever confessed what he thought wrong with his family. I saw two babies once in your crib, and i knew one was Reaper’s daughter.”

She leans forward, “I’m sorry, i have to finish this later.”

Her image vanishes, before the recording, at a much later date appears.

“Two months and seventy journals of random visions and images flashing through my head to get the whole story sorted out.” She says.

She looks at Jack, “Jackie… my god you don’t look well. Revenge doesn’t suit any of you, but the loss of so much in such a short time… you should have born twins, huh Gabe?”

My father grunts, “It’s what i always said. Brothers in everything but blood.” His voice is thick and raspier than normal.

Jack doesn’t say anything at first, “Jack died, remember? A walking corpse shouldn’t look good.”

My mother nods and shakes her head, “Haven’t seen any of you for decades and the first words out of my mouth? ‘Why you look awful.’” She shakes her head, before setting a piece of paper, her script aside and looks at the camera, “I owe all of you an apology. But i did what i had to do. When i said i do, I fainted in front of everyone. But it wasn’t from being overwhelmed by the moment. It was being overwhelmed by the future.”

She glances at Jack, “I told you to stay at the Swedish base that night because you would met the bombers mid-way to your mission. You wouldn’t have survived.”

She looks at my father, “Gabe, i asked you to stay because a sniper had a bullet with your name on it, and was waiting for you at your next mission.”

She closes her eyes, “I held you both up that night, because they would have mowed you both down the instant you stepped outside.”

She looks down at me, “My sweet, precious girl. You have grown into a wonderful woman. I’ll never get to see it, any of it, with my own two eyes but… you make me proud to have been your mother for a little bit. I went back for you because i knew you wouldn’t make it out of your room if i didn’t.”

She breaks down, “Yes, yes i knew the attack was going to happen, but if i stopped it, all of us would have died at the parade the following month. Except Gabe. And then there would have been nothing to stop Reaper. And…”

She covers her face, “I can see so many versions of the future. So many possibilities. But in everyone i saw, if i lived, one of you would have died. The only way i saw to save my big brother, my beloved husband, and my little girl… was to sacrifice myself.”


@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 19

It must have been a
shock when she said this.

No. What surprised me was that she felt guilty.

For killing your
grandmother?

For endangering me. I had no where else to go and I fifteen.
If Jack hadn’t come down to pick me up, we might be talking about a completely
different Gabrielle and La Muerta here.

You seem to be talking
about her a lot more. Is it because of what we all witnessed earlier?

Yes. I wouldn’t have spoken about her at all if you didn’t
already know about her, and I would have stopped if you didn’t mention the damn
surveillance camera.

I’m assuming you also
wouldn’t have torn the secured table from the ground and pinned the last
interviewer to the wall it, either?

Heh, if he didn’t insinuate we’re more of a villain for wanting
to help our fathers, I wouldn’t have.

Do you mind explaining
a bit more about that? I mean, why you feel strongly about it of course.

Oh don’t worry, I was getting to that. And I’m surprised
you’re still afraid. La Muerta hated the other interviewer from the beginning.
He works for Talon after all.

Modern Day

I sift through the junk in the basement; when we first bought
it I remember seeing an older drive reader here, probably from before my parents
were engaged. It’s covered in dirt and dust, but still has the port cover, so
the connections are clean. Last thing I need is to corrupt the damn device by
being careless.

I take it upstairs where Sombra has done Her Thing and made
her portable computer ancient data drive reader compatible.

… I have no idea how she did it, but this is Sombra, so I figure
she was teething on these things; maybe the readers too.

After making sure the reader is attached, and won’t blow the
drive to bits, we insert it. An ancient word processor pops up, and Sombra and I
both glanced from it to each other,

“Coordinates?” I ask.

Sombra copy/pastes them into a personal map locator, one
much more powerful than some military grade devices, “That’s not the strangest
part, chica. It’s in the center of
the Himalayan Mountains.”

***************

Jack has another contact at the airport; we’re able to get
clearance to launch what has to be the second sorriest air-crap I’ve ever seen.
The first, I took to get to the middle of the amazon jungle, through a no-fly
zone and into territory controlled by drug runners.

Jack always did love to make friends…

Our plane, or coffin I’m not sure which as we take off, is an
outdated, decommissioned military transport plane. Why? Cause it was the only
thing Ana could get a hold of on such short notice. She’s staying behind with
Rein to give us more time. Bridgette and Pharah are staying behind to protect
their parents. Sombra is coming with us, but Rian, Genji, Zenyatta and Hanzo
are not. They’re retreating to a safe house Hanzo has; they’re not the main
targets, so we hope our splitting up will help keep them safe. For now at
least.

My father and Jack man the controls and we make it off the
ground without a hitch. Sombra acts as navigator, while I try sleeping; each
time my mind dips into the REM stage all I see is bloody faces of loved ones. I
finally stop when Jesse’s face; by now, he’s asleep beside me, and, even
knowing my father is in the same space, I lie down with my head on Jesse’s hip;
his arm slides down my arm and takes my hand before I can finally fall asleep
with no nightmare.

**************

I wake to one, instead.

A violent rocking throws me onto the floor, while Sombra is
holding onto her seat. Loud beeping, and then we’re falling right out of the
sky. The sharp chills aren’t there, but I barely register that as I think we’re
fallen into a trap and all about die in a fiery explosion in the middle of
desolate mountains.

Instead, the light of the sun vanishes from the cockpit windshield,
another violent tremor, and then we’re all covering our ears as the shriek of
metal against metal drowns out of the sound outside. We’re still moving down
and at an angle, but it’s only when the end of the shaft opens do I see we’re
riding rails down into an underground complex.

My father curses, “To the back!” He shouts.

Sombra unclips herself as all three run into the back of the
plane. Jack and my father pull us to the ground and cover us with their bodies.
They’ve anchored us so securely that when we finally hit the bottom of the
shaft, we don’t bounce around inside like pinballs.

Groaning, my father asks, “Is everyone else alright?”

“Else?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “pretty sure Jack and I just dislocated
something.”

We laugh, when I glance up, “Are we… sinking?”

“It’s shock absorbing gel. Large impacts makes it liquid, it
pushes whatever isn’t it up and out of itself—” a violent rocking and when I look
over I see a  thick black liquid oozing
back from the windshield, “—and otherwise you can walk on it. Gabby? A little
help?”

Everyone grabs my hands or links arms with me and I phase us
out of the plane.

The floor is massive, and empty, save for a multitude of
what I realize are reinforced support pillars, all covered in black soot marks.
The lights flicker on until the end of the floor, to a large elevator on the
other end.

“Somebodies expecting us.” Jack says.

Sombra shakes her head, “No life signs. In fact, I don’t
think this place has been lived in, in… decades.”

I stop everyone from moving forward when I see something on
the floor: it’s a hopscotch board.

“A password.” I whisper.

My father glances at the tiles, “What was it you used to do?”

I smile. Still young enough to do it, I hope.

I take my turn; hoping between the eight numbers, skipping
some and going back to them once done. I never had a pattern in mind when I started
doing it, but over time, I found the most fun pattern was the most complicate
one.

Let’s just hope mom
put in at least one mistake, because I almost always…

As soon as I think it, I lose my balance and step just
outside the board… hitting a secret panel with an up and down button beneath
it.

“How the hell would anyone know you’d do that?” Sombra
asked.

I glanced up at her, “My mom. Any security system she came
up with would be based on things she saw me do. There’re are ways to fake DNA
and Optical scanners.”

“Something tells me she put those in later. After the other
tests.” My father says.

Sombra shakes her head, “And how exactly did she know she’d
be with us and not have sent us in her stead.”

I have a hunch but i don’t want to say it. I press the up button, and a voice says, “Security system enabled. Proceed to testing.”

A few feet ahead of the hopscotch board, i hear the sound of a bee and freeze in place. I glance up as a pale green-blue light washes over me,

“Scanning. Heartbeat detected; breathing detected. Elevated heartbeat, adrenaline levels, and breathing detected. Allergy to bee stings detected. Proceed.”

Sombra blinks, “Allergic to bee stings?”

I nod, “When i was five we found out i had a severe allergy to bees. I get a little panicky when i hear buzzing.”

Just as we reach the elevator doors, i hear my name called and the glass floor beneath me shatters, dunking me into ice cold water. I come to the surface gasping, and see another platform a few feet away from me.

“Gabby!”

I glanced up as Jack leans over the edge, “I’m okay.” I shout back.

“She fell into a flooded mine shaft. The thing hadn’t been filled in, just covered. Her mother climbed down and attached a rope to her before i pulled them both out.” My father says.

I look up, “Papa! Look to see if there’s a rope up there.”

“Already did.” i hear breaking glass and a rope descends into the well, “Grab on.”

I grab the rope, gasping when something sharp cuts my hand, before noticing the hidden hook in the strands. I use it to secure it around my waist, before holding on to the rope tightly. My father lets the rope fall a bit before beginning to pull rapidly up to the top. Jack helps pull me out and my father pulls me into his arms.

“How’s your hand?” He asked.

I held it up, “Did she have to include the hook? I know i cut myself on the rope when you were pulling us up but…”

He undoes the rope and heads back to where it was hanging. As he returns it, another piece of glass slides over top of it.

“Scanning…” a voice says, “new DNA found. Gabrielle Reyes. Security system disabled.”

He glances back at me, “Let’s go see what your mom left us, shall we?”

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 18

…. How did your grandmother
die?….

I don’t remember. The last things I do remember are
preparing her nightly tea, and handing it to her. Between them, I can’t
remember anything.

…. Have you ever tried
to?…

Yes. The most I’ve gotten is seeing the mirror of her vanity,
and her collections of pills.

… Did La Muerta say
anything?…

Not at first. Sometimes she tells me I don’t need to worry
about it. No one can blame me for it. I didn’t know anything at the time.

…. Do you think she
had something to do with your grandmother’s death?…

Yes.

…Why?…

She told me.

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Modern Day

We don’t stay at the safe-house for long. Proximity alerts
detail incoming enemy aircraft almost as soon as La Muerta and I step out of
Sombra’s com room. We realize quickly that with Moira having granted my
grandmother full access to the combined BlackWatch and OverWatch databases, she
not only knows the whereabouts of current, former or deceased members, but the
locations of every weapon cache and safehouse either organization had while operational.

Angela is able to restore Jesse enroute to a cabin he and I purchased
in case of something like this happening. Genji and Hanzo contact us just
before we get there and Sombra and Jack head off to assist them while the rest
of us settle in. There’s only two bedrooms, so it’s decided that Ana and
Reinhardt will take one and Jesse and I the other. We have a hodge-podge
collection of sleeping bags and cots in the basement of this one, salvaged from
half-a dozen other homes we’ve had collectively.

There’s no power, phone, gas or water however, so we know
this will only be a temporary place to regroup. Rein and Ana take positions in
the kitchen and attic window overlooking the drive. Brigette stays with Ana
while Pharah stays with Rein, in case the other needs a bit of support. My
father and I set up a couple of the cots for when the others return, while
Jesse and I hobble back to the master bedroom. As soon as we’re under the covers,
we’re asleep.

************

My dreams aren’t filled with blood or explosions, just angry
voices.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE US?!” La Muerta shouts.

From my position apparently in the ceiling, I spy La Muerta
standing in the corner of a dark room, Reaper standing with his arms crossed in
front of him. Even though her face in contorted in rage, tears are streaming
down her face,

“You want the truth?” Reaper asks.

“NO SHIT! I wouldn’t be demanding it unless I wanted it, you
fucking dumbass!”

“We didn’t! We found where Amelia was, but there was no sign
of either you or Jack by then. We didn’t dig through the wreckage because the amount
of damage it did to the base convinced us both there’d be nothing LEFT OF YOU!”
He shouts

La Muerta’s face falls, “Y-you… you looked for us?”

Reaper growled, “Yes!
You’re MY daughter as much as Gabrielle is Gabriel’s! Of course I looked for
you!”

La Muera blinked, “… did you really think we were… gone?”

Reaper sighs with a hysterical groan mixed in, “Whatever
Widow Maker used in the damn thing caused the fire to become so hot it melted part of the metal structure. There
was so much smoke and so much fire… the last place we knew you to be was in
your bedroom and there was nothing left
of it. Even if you did get out… the best we thought we’d find was…” he turns
and punches the pitch-black wall, “… pieces. Pieces or maybe half of you. We
were so close to completely losing it and when the images of dragging half your
life-less corpse from the burning hell came to us…”

La Muerta stepped closer, “You lost it.”

Reaper turned to her, “Completely. I was content with
sleeping as long as you were safe. When someone took both you and Gabby away
from us… we wanted blood. But no matter how many people we killed we never
found even a trace of who issued the order. Even Talon has no idea; the base held many important documents in hard
copy that were destroyed in the blast, some of which they’d been trying to get
their hands on for years. Widow Maker still had the order and it was the only
reason DoomFist didn’t crush her windpipe.”

La Muerta stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her
father’s waist, “I thought… I thought you abandoned us. Living with her was a
nightmare; I couldn’t manifest in that house, but I could still watch. And
finally… finally i…”

Reaper wrapped her in a hug, “Shhh… nevermind that. We’re
together for a little while at least. And if I have anything to say about it,
we will for years to come, okay?”

****************

When I wake up, the sun has set; my father is leaning
against the doorframe, listening to the conversation down the hall. Jesse is
snoring softly beside me; it’s a relief to have them both here. I quietly slip
from the bed, nearly stepping on a furry body that quickly disappears. My gasp
alerts my father who glances towards me, shotgun already in hand, but sighs
when he sees its me.

I tip-toe to the door and we head out into the living room;
Genji was lying on the couch, Rian sleeping on his chest, while Sombra had his
feet in her lap. Hanzo had his feet propped up on an ottoman and was dozing in
the recliner in the corner.

Rein and Ana were sleeping on the love seat, the giant of a
man acting as a bed for the smaller sharp-shooter. Bridgette and Pharah were
asleep on the cots beside them. Jack and Angela, however were standing over
Zenyatta, or at least, what was left of the Omenic.

From the knee down he was missing his legs, and his right
arm, torn from it’s socket, lay beside him. Only two of the orbs that usually floated
around his neck were there, while the right side of his faceplate was dented
in.

Angela was using a mobile generator to power her systems, but
from the look on her face, it wasn’t working as well as she’d like it to.

Genji grunted and I glanced over to see Sombra was working
on his knee, which appeared to have been shot out. “I need a couple more spare
parts before he can at least walk on it, Zen.” She said.

Zenyatta turned his head, “Which ones? I still have servos where
my knees were.”

Genji grunted, “Master! Sombra!”

Sombra reached up and placed a finger over his mouth, “Hush,
or I’m insisting we get those upgrades you didn’t want. You know, the ones you
thought you wouldn’t need because no girl would ever stomach looking at you.”

Genji blushes fiercely before leaning back; Angela hands
Sombra a few pieces from Zenyatta’s legs, and she gets back to fixing her
husband.

Jack turns as we enter and nods towards me, “You okay?”

“Long day. Looks like Zenyatta had a worse one.” I say,
kneeling beside the cot where he lay.

Zen’s synth laughter belies his condition, “I’ve worse days;
I am still functioning and can assist my student with his repairs.”

“No matter how much he complains.” Sombra says.

I have a guess that Rian wasn’t just placed on Genji’s chest
to keep the child quiet. Genji shakes his head, glancing down as Sombra finishes
her repairs and he flexes his toes. Sombra must have taken off he outer armor,
because normally you don’t see those.

“There is another matter I would like to address as well,”
Zenyatta says and taps my shoulder, “with you specifically.”

From the damaged part of his leg, he extracts a long, thing
pin-like device, which he then inserts into an inconspicuous hole in his chest
plate. An older model data drive pops out of a compart in his neck. I blink as
he hands it to me,

“My Teacher told me I would need to give this to you. He
said your mother told him it would decide many things in the coming days, especially after their deaths.”

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta Part 17

La Muerta has her limits. Mexico City keeps her asleep for most of the time I spend there,
anything dealing with our family’s curse gives us both a headache, and she hates going near any Aztec structures.
Makes sense really; the Aztec
people mistook Cortez for a god and
it cost them everything.

The
moment anyone mentions the feathered serpent, however, she gets… quiet. She says he returned but by then his people were long
gone; blood sacrifices were common when he lived, not so much human sacrifices. He
knew one of his brethren had done something, something that only made them stronger. Why? She never said specifically.

I don’t know, I’m
not a expect on Aztec religion; I only know that Cortez very well might have been
an unknowing servant of that life taking god. Who knows? Most of the stories were destroyed; a good way to cover your
tracks, wouldn’t you say?

Modern Day

I don’t expect much on our return.

When i see Ana, Reinhardt, Pharah, and Bridget waiting in the
small safehouse’s kitchen, alarm bells go off. Sombra enters behind me and a moment later Genji and Rian
appear beside her.

Oh. Shit.

“What happened?” Sombra asks.

Genji shakes his head, “They attacked where we’d hidden him.
Master stayed behind to give us more time. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Hanzo?” Sombra asks.

“Alive, but injured. He’s resting in the back room. They dropped a bomb on our families complex just as he left. The only thing remaining is the families dragon crest.” Genji says.

My gaze shoots to where Ana sits, Reinhardt behind her chair,

“Missile strike. Our home
was leveled in a matter of minutes.” Ana glances up at her lover, “If not for Rein and Bridget, Pharah and I would
most likely be dead.”

My father wraiths past us and heads into the same hallway. Most
assembled gasp and a few questions emerge, but when I notice someone is missing, my blood freezes in its veins.

“Where’s Jesse?” I ask.

*************

I’m going to kill whoever did this. With my bare hands if I have
to.

Jesse lays on our bed, his good arm in a cast and sling, his
chest, abdomen and both legs covered in bandages. His hair has been shaved off,
and a wad of gauze covers his eye and half his head.

My father has his arm around my shoulders, “Shhh. He’s been
through worse. He’s survived. He will this time too.” He whispers. My composure
slips; I want to believe him but all I’m feeling is a repetition of razor-sharp
chills lacerating my spine. He’s fighting but even I can’t tell if it’ll be
enough. My father chuckles,

“Now I know how your mother felt. I ended up like that once
or twice, and she swore if I ever thought about dying, she’d have to be
retrained, because she would do everything she could to drag my sorry ass back
from the other side. I saw the conviction in her eyes, and once I came back
with her holding the paddles. They’d wanted to stop but she refused until I came
back and stayed.  Hurt like hell too.”

His grip shakes and hug I him back, “We’ll find a way to help
mom.” I say.

We hear a thump behind us and turn to see Jack leaning against the door frame, staring at my father as if seeing the actual grim reaper. I step away from my father and help Jack to a chair against the wall,

“What happened?” i ask.

“They attacked everyone close to you. Tracer and her girlfriend just called in to report they’re okay, but their apartment building is a parking lot.” Jack says.

“Angela?”

“She’s okay. Mostly. She’s spent the last fourteen hours healing and treating us. She ran out of energy before she could completely restore Jess.” Jack says.

Everyone close to me? I don’t understand. Why me? Why now of all times?

In my current state I almost jump out of my skin when Sombra
touches my arm,

“You need to see this.”

*************************

She sits down, “I was using every trick I know to find out
how they found us.”

“Trackers, bugs, wiretaps, what?” I ask.

“Simpler than that I’m afraid.” She taps a button on the holo-screen.
Moira is being dragged out of the Talon base, alongside Widow Maker and
Doomfist. All seem drugged or at the very least dazed; as they approach a van
the Claw Agents are filing them into, a black car pulls up. Moira is brought
before the side door and a moment later, a cloud of white powder envelopes her
face. She holds her breath until the agent holding her shoots her with a bolt
of her own purple energy. She gasps and after a brief coughing fit, her eyes
glaze over and the agent uncuffs her. A data pad is placed in front of her and
she begins typing.

“What was that powder?” I ask.

“With how fast she turned on us,” another key stroke and a tree
with long white, downward facing flowers appears onscreen, “Borrachero, or
rather the drug created from it. Scopolamine, more commonly known as The Devil’s
Breath.”

“What the hell does it do?” I ask.

“One whiff of the powder and you’ll be doing everything the
user wants you to, and have no memory of doing so.” Sombra says.

Including help whoever is hunting us to locate all of us and
the targets closest to us. Great.

My father and I groan as La Muerta and Reaper both rise to the surface a moment
later; Sombra wisely turns in her chair as they stand on either side of her.

La Muerta points to the back of the data pad, “A reflection.”

“Can you see who’s in the car?” Reaper asks.

Sombra types, and does her best to resize, reshape and flip
the image. But the reflection is too faint and the person is wearing a white
face-mask.

La Muerta grunts and glances at her father, “Titiritero was last seen bombing a peace
summit in the Yucatan Peninsula.”

Reaper stares at the screen, “People in Paris can get a hold
of it. Location means nothing. But I see what you’re saying. That can’t be my
brother; that base is in Venezuela.”

Sombra moves the video frame by frame, until La Muerta and I both stop her, “Wait!” We say.

We point to the screen, “That ring. That’s…”

No. No fucking way. That can’t be…

La Muerta shakes her head, “It’s not possible. She’s dead.
We know she’s dead.”

Reaper turns to her, “When has death every stopped your grandmother?”

****************

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 16: An Overwatch Fanfiction

My Uncle Jack told me this story, so I’m not sure how accurate it is; my
parents met when they were paired on a mission. They’d seen each other during
training sessions, but this was the first time they actually interacted. It
originally had been Jack and my mom, but then Jack was named as the head of
OverWatch, so he sent my father instead.

I can’t find any information on that mission, just that by the time they
came back, my parents were deeply in love, and a few months later, my father
asked my mother to marry him. Jack tells me he didn’t expect them to fall for
each other, though his smile tells me differently, but it was a nice surprise. Since
he was my father’s best man for the wedding, I believe him.

From what I remember, they had arguments, but it always ended with them
laughing. There was stress, but they helped the other through it. And while
they never said anything, I knew they had nights where it was harder to sleep
than others. Neither were perfect, but they tried; that’s why I think they were
happy.

Modern Day

Reaper spits out his coffee at the same time I’m planning Sombra’s eulogy.
Then, she starts laughing,

“O.M.G. do you honestly believe i’d bring her here? I know Talon watches us.
They may not get all the information due to ‘tactical recording failure’ they
still haven’t been able to fix, but I’d rather not risk it.” She says.

Reaper relaxes while I tense; she can continue saying whatever she wants and
I can’t retaliate without exposing myself. Then I remember she leaked her
Soccer Mom Haircut photos last year which means what little dirt I had on her
is gone. I’m going to hurt her.

Reaper growls, “Sombra.”

She cackles, “Sorry Boss.”

Not yet Som, not yet.

Reaper sighs, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

Sombra says nothing but by Reaper’s long suffering sigh, I can tell she is.

Great.

Just as I’m planning to set a thumbtack under her backside the next she gets
up, a chill runs down my spine. It’s not sharp, it’s freezing and feels like it’s
coming from the core of my spinal cord.

Actions leading to a death in the near future. Shit.

Sombra sits up as a personal alarm of hers goes off, “We have a problem.”

Reaper knocks the footrest down and removes the white robe, revealing his
typical black gear beneath. His gauntlets fold out from their holders near his
elbows, while his boots appear with a tap of his foot. Pulling up his cowl, he
pulls his mask from his belt and places it over his face just as the door to
the apartment bursts open.

Six heavily armed… Claw Agents enter the room, along with the last person
i ever expected: My mother.

I’m not sure who’s more shocked, me or my father; it takes Sombra slapping
his arm for him to shake himself and draw his shotguns. My mother tilts her
head, scanning the room, but not making a comment otherwise. Her movements are stiff
and mechanical, but I feel a familiar energy.

Reaper hesitates, while Sombra opens fire blasting the Claw Agents back,
even while my mother dodges ever bullet and lunges forward, a dagger in her hand.
Gone were the stiff movements, and with the grace of a predator, she lunges
towards my father.

Reaper aims a shotgun at her and she backflips as he fires. The blast
destroys part of his wall, but her blade hits its mark, slicing into Reaper’s
throat. Coughing as blood begins pouring down his chest, the wounds close a
moment later even as my mother begins her assault anew. Neither Reaper nor
Sombra are fast enough for her… then again when you can see the future it
doesn’t really matter how fast your opponents are. He can’t get a shot off as
she knocks his guns out of the way with sharp kicks, while slicing through his
armor. Each time Sombra tries to attack or hack her, my mother launches a
throwing knife in her direction, or a small explosive that forces Sombra to
move out of range.

I pinch my arm; pain shoots through it but I’m still here. This isn’t a
dream.

My mother knocks Reaper over the low wall separating the kitchen from the
rest of the apartment, then kicks Sombra to the couch. Sombra swears as my
mother lands squarely on Sombra’s chest and raises the dagger over her head. A
moment before she drives the dagger into Sombra’s face, i phase through the
couch and grab her arm. My mother stares at my hand, even as I force her back
and phase out into the room. Sombra squeezes my arm before rushing over to
where my father lays bleeding.

“Gabriella Reyes?” My mother asks in a monotone voice.

“Mom’s not in there, is she? You have her skills, her powers… but you’re
not her.” I say.

My mother smiles, all warmth it once had gone, “Target acquired.
Termination, imminent.”

We’ll see. I think.

One of my father’s shotguns slides against my foot, the bio response reset. My
mother and I glance at it then each other; I duck as my mother tries to take my
head off and grab the weapon. Eyes widening, she dodges the first blast; then,
the gun reads my DNA signature, and a duplicate appears in my other hand. My
father’s guns are connected to him, and each time he throws them aside and
draws a new set, the old ones disintegrate and, reloaded, appear in “que” in
the holsters. It gives the illusion of a never-ending supply of guns, even though
they’re the same five sets.

I open fire as my mother prepares for another strike, and she dodges every
blast; when the magazines reach empty, I curse. My mother takes the opportunity
to get close; the guns in my hand make an odd noise, which we both realize is
them charging. I pull the triggers and hit my mother in the chest with a double
blast of green-yellow energy. Energy I know all too well.

My mother lands awkwardly a few feet away, her body twitching as the energy shoots
through her nerves. Whoever or whatever is controlling her can’t be happy when
she smiles, for real, at me,

“Protect your father,” she says, her eyes showing a semblance of life,
“they’re after both of you.”

“Amelia!” We turn as my father shouts;
he’s trying to get to his feet, but keeps slipping in his own blood.

She gives him a sad smile, before the control programming takes over again,
and she kicks me into the wall behind me. Turning towards the window, she jumps
through the glass; the Claw Operatives drop to the ground, as a ticking sound
begins. Sombra is able to hack the bombs and disable them before they destroyed
the whole block. Reaper takes a regen capsule from the vest on his front,
twists one end to expose a needle, before slamming it into his thigh. He stops
bleeding and his wounds begin regenerating rapidly.

I sit down heavily on the couch, “We need to get out of here before the
police show up. Too many questions and two wanted criminals.” I say.

“Jack’s on his way.” Sombra says, closing the link.

Reaper grunts as he gets to his feet, and glances at me, “Gabriella?”

I rise, the flesh filling in on my face and arms, before nodding slowly,
“Papa?”

He reaches up and takes off the mask and sets his cowl down. His dark brown
hair is salted heavily with gray, and while his face is paler, not much has
changed. I take a tentative step forward, and he raises both hands, his guns
appearing in each.

“Password?” He asks. His voice
shakes, a moment from bursting into tears?

Before he can blink, i duck beneath the guns, wrap my arms around his waist
and hug him tightly.

“Welcome home Papa.” I whisper, burning tears sliding down my face.

He drops the guns and with quaking hands, hugs me back as he kisses the top
of my head. He sobs before whispering,

“It is you. It really is you.”

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 15: An overwatch fanfiction

Jesse didn’t always know about La Muerta, and how he found
out about her was…

We’d just come home after our latest date; having moved in
together the month prior I was feeling relaxed. Nerves had been a constant up
until we decided to take the next step so… I wasn’t prepared for what was going
to happen.

She came out as Jesse lay sleeping; I remember watching her
stroke his face, before he woke and smiled at her. At least, he did until he
actually opened his eyes; as soon as their gazes locked, he shoved her away
from him and turned on the light. She cackled, before lunging at him, knocking
them both off the bed and pinning him to the floor. Mocking him about what he’d
do to us, reminding him of a horrific event in his life, when a spy had seduced
him and left him for dead as she ransacked his apartment. He’d shot her in the
back of the head just after she’d located a couple of his files.

The only problem was that my powers can also see how the
death actually took place if it’s violent or traumatic enough. She’d stabbed him
five times and he’d crawled out to the hallway to find her tearing through his
home. The files had contained contact information with several of his colleagues,
his family, and the last thing he wanted was the Claw, a precursor to Talon, to
get their hands on them.

It was only after I’d shown her his last moments conscious,
that I was able to wrestle control from her. I rolled to the side, off Jesse
and curled up into a ball. La Muerta had ruined something, I was sure, and I
could never replace it. The fact that Jesse pulled me into his arms and rocked
me until I stopped crying was something I didn’t see coming. Neither did I see
him taking my explanation of who she was in stride.

Jesse means the world to me… and far too many people know it
for my peace of mind.

Modern Day

Sombra wasn’t happy being woken up in the middle of the
night. She was less so when I told her I needed her help. She was downright
cranky when I told exactly what that help involved.

After the string of Spanish curses ranging from questioning
my sanity, heritage, intelligence, physical well being (concussion among other
things), to telling me there were easier ways to die, she sighed.

“Okay, so, explain exactly how, this will help you?”

“Talon has a spy in their organization. Akande isn’t picky
enough it seems, and one of our dear friends seems to have infiltrated it.” I
say.

She groans; we’ve been using Dear Friend to mean the people
bringing the dead back to life or those brought back, and sicking them on me.

“You’re sure?” she asks.

It’s really early in the morning so I understand she’s
hoping I’m just tired or had a bad dream. I lean back in the chair,

“You and Genji have a son named Rian that you’ve been hiding
from his family, your bosses and whoever came after you all those years ago. He
just had his fourth birthday a few months ago. And if I share this information
with anyone, you’ll kill me yourself.”

She stares in shock for a moment before clearing her throat, “I’ll see if Reaper’s free. He’s the only one i know of who might listen.”

I feel a sharp chill down my spine and before i can stop myself, i say, “I want to go with you when you meet him.”

****************

Apparently, today is the day i make everybody unhappy. Jesse stares at me when i tell him Sombra and I will be meeting with Reaper. Jack’s silent.

Kind of would have preferred if they yelled at me to be quite honest.

Jesse stands up and kisses me before saying, “You get in trouble, you find a way to reach us, okay?”

“That’s it? No long speeches or demands to come along?” i blurt out.

Jesse cocks a grin, “You can handle yourself, darlin’. But if you do get in trouble…”

“You’ll be worse than Mother Hen Jack over there? Yeah, i know. And don’t worry, i won’t take any chances.”

He nods before pulling me into a hug; he takes a shuddering breath, “I guess this is how you feel about me when i go off on suicidal missions.”

“Yeah. I trust you but…”

“You want to lock me in a closet and throw away the key, right?” Jesse says.

“Padded room but, pretty much.”

He snorts, “Yeah… i like your idea better.”

I kiss him one last time before i pile into Sombra car and we head off to the meeting place.

It feels like the point of a knife is pressed against the base of my skull the whole way there.

*************

I was expecting an abandoned construction site, a remote outpost, maybe even a lonely beach. The last place i expected Reaper and Sombra to meet was at a hotel in the center of the city.

She enters through the back door and takes the elevator to the top floor. Neither of us are seen the whole time, and only when we reach the top floor do i see why they meet this way.

Reaper is just stepping out of his hotel room, maskless, cowless and wearing a white bathrobe. He leans against the door reading the paper as Sombra passes in front of him. As soon as we enter he pretends to take an interest in a story and steps back into the room, closing the door behind him.

“What did you mean, ‘emergency’? Did Jesse get himself maimed again?” He asks.

Wait… what?

Sombra scoffs, “With Gabby keeping an eye on him? The boy’s lucky she doesn’t have a tracking device on him. Or follows him into the bathroom.”

I’m not that bad.

“She can’t be that bad, can she?” Reaper asks.

Sombra shrugs, “Probably not, but considering she woke me up with another premonition this morning, I’m surprised she can sleep most nights.”

My father sighs, “Her mother had the same problem…”

… I’m confused and a little angry…

Reaper, no… my father knows i’m alive, and has been keeping track of me and Jesse?

“So what was the premonition?” Reaper asks.

“That the new girls a plant and she’ll get all of us killed.” Sombra says, opening the fridge, “nice spread.”

“I bought everything so take anything you want. Except the chilli-con-carne. That’s mine.” He says.

Sombra grabs a ham sandwich and a cola before heading into the living room.

“Anything else i need to know?” Reaper asks.

“Jesse asked Gabby to marry him and she said yes.” Sombra says.

Nice Som! You tell him i’m pregnant too?

Reaper sighs, “Thank god. Are the babies healthy?”

… Sombra and I are going to have a LONG discussion when we get back…

Sombra nods, “Yeah. Angela’s one of the best and her sibling is a Pediatrician.”

My father pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down in a recliner beside Sombra,

“Where is she anyway?” My father asks.

Sombra, i will hurt you–

“She’s hiding in my shadow because she had a bad feeling i wouldn’t be coming home if she didn’t come with me.”

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 13: An Overwatch FanFiction

Memento Mori- a symbol, such as a Death’s Head (skull), that reminds it’s viewer of their own mortality.

It’s an idea that many people, including myself, have used in the past to shake their opponent to their core. Blackwatch, too, had one in their emblem. I also wouldn’t be surprised if my father used it as the basis for his mask; they are almost identical.

A vengeful wraith born from the death of Blackwatch and Overwatch?

Sounds like something my father would do.

Modern Day

Blood. It’s
everywhere. A smoke filled sky above seems stained with it as the sun dies
behind a ruin of buildings set alight across from where I kneel… no, where I
stand. My legs are cut off at the knee, and are lying a few feet from me. My
hands are clutching the oozing mass of my intestines to the gaping wound in my
stomach. They’re all dead. Everyone I love is dead…

**************

“GABS!” Jesse shouts.

I sit up gasping, eyes darting around the room in a dizzy
panic as I try to catch my breath. The vision is always vivid, but this time is
the first time I’m dying, the first time I know the others are dead without
seeing their bodies. Jesse’s arms hold me as loosely as he can, fearful I’ll
hyperventilate like I did once before. I’m shaking and my vision blurs as tears
fill my eyes, and I push against Jesse as the room closes in on me.

Jesse gently turns my head and makes me look at him, “Focus
on me Gabs. It’s just a dream. You’re safe.” He whispers.

The sound of blood in my ears nearly drowns him out, but the
sight of those precious eyes pulls me closer to the surface. I gasp, holding my
breath for a five count before letting it out slowly; I lean into him as I
continue trying to calm my breathing. His arms encircle me and he keeps
whispering encouragements as my panic subsides painfully slow.

I hate these visions; they’re always a warning about
something horrible in the future. A million fears fast forward through my head:
something’s wrong with the babies, Jack’s in danger, Ana’s about to have a
fatal encounter with Widow Maker, Jesse’s dying of something that can’t be
cured, I’m going insane and it’s got nothing to do with my powers.

I feel a soothing hand on my lower back and the smell of
sugar skulls hits me. The scent is gone the next moment, but several of the
fears die out. Not going crazy, and no one’s dying; she doesn’t comfort me when
that happens. Only when my fears are unjustified.

Jesse starts singing a Spanish lullaby, and I bury my head
in the crook of his neck; leather and gun oil, the smell of soap and after
shave. I try to calm down a bit faster, until he kisses my forehead,

“Take what time you need.” He says.

I smile, “I knew those words would come back to haunt me.”

He quirks a grin and bumps my head with his gently; I tell
him the same thing when he’s like this. A few more breaths, and a few minutes
of him singing in Spanish, and I can get up. I want to record his singing one
of these days, but whenever I suggest it, he gets bashful and says he’s not
that good.

Uh-huh, and I can’t feel when someone’s about to die. Right
Cowboy.

Instead of leaving the bed, I curl up under the covers; he
kisses me  and lays back down. It’s
almost 4:40 am, and we don’t have any place to head to today. At least I hope
we don’t. Jesse pulls me closer and I fall asleep in the shelter of his arms.
Corny as hell, but when you’re feeling the world breaking apart, a loved one’s
embrace can feel like the safest place in existence.

*******

We do have to get up. Jack’s connection came through. One of
my uncle’s dolls; the fourth one I’ve gotten. They know who’s calling card it
is, but not how he’s connected to me.

Reaper is spotted just outside town, doing who knows what,
and Jack’s been asked to help. I’m not sure if I want to help as well,
considering Jesse and I are engaged and having triplets. Don’t want my old man
to have a heart attack, especially at his age.

All joking aside, it feels… painful, no matter how I imagine
it: if he dies never knowing, or I tell him and he disapproves. I don’t want
another damn target painted on Jesse’s forehead. There’s also the possibility
he’ll approve… but I’m not sure how our reunion will be.

Sombra takes that decision out of my hands, “I have some
info I want to follow up on. I could use your and your cowboy’s unique talents.
And no, it’s not to make an amateur porn movie.”

I roll my eyes, “You know, if you need new batteries all you
have to do is tell us.”

She smirks at me, “Funny, chica. Genji doesn’t need batteries.”

I nearly spit out my coffee, “What!”

She swears in spanish and exits the room quickly; Genji? Shimada? I swear the amount of hacking and upgrade jokes are far too many to count. She comes back a few minutes later, and set a virtual picture frame on the table. Genji and her… before the rest of the armor was put into place. I flick through the other photos, various holidays and birthdays. But that’s not the only thing that shocks me. Holy shit.

I glance at her as she avoids my gaze, “Is that?”

“His name’s Rian and he just turned four last month.” She says.

Sombra and Genji’s son is with them in one, and he’s smiling with his arms around Genji’s neck.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Someplace no one can get to him. Not Genji’s family and not the ones after me. I swear, if you say anything to anyone about this–”

“Sombra, my father is Reaper and i’ve been hiding from the bastards who killed my mom for most of my life. I understand why you’re hiding him and why he has to stay hidden. I’m just mad you didn’t think you could trust me.” I say.

She shuts off the frame and reattaches it to her gloves, “I don’t trust many people period, but at the time, you were still an unknown to me. Right now, i’m not sure why i’m risking my life for you, but anytime i want to walk away, everything in me screams to protect the only little sister i’ve ever had.”

I get up and hug her, “You know i feel the same way about you, Sombra. I do think of you as my sister.”

She steps back and fixes me with a glare, “But i stil have to say it: Rian’s life is priceless. You sell him out, i’ll kill you myself.”

***********

@zarcake-writes

La Muerta part 12: an OverWatch FanFiction

After discovering La
Malinche
, I started looking at my family’s history. Several generations of
Matriarchs look exactly like my Abuela. And if I didn’t know any better, I
swear they were her. As I delved deeper I found more similarities: her
daughters would die in infancy, while her sons would go mad and become homicide
seeking terrorists. While digging into the current generation… i found two things: the first, is that my Abuela had three kids. A girl, who died before she was one, and two sons: My father and his twin brother, Michael.

My father never mentioned i had an uncle, and doing more research, i found out why: my uncle disappeared when father was only twenty years old. Around the same time, a terrorist known as the PuppetMaster, came to the stage. How do i know this terrorist is my uncle?

His calling card is a faceless doll, usually placed somewhere the authorities can not only find it easily, but in a way that insults them as well.

I have four of his dolls.

The First, i found in my toy box right before the Sweden Complex blew up with us in it. The second, on the kitchen table just after my grandmother’s funeral; the third, on my bed the night ana lost her eye. The fourth, i was handed in an evidence bag from the attack on us some months ago, where i fought against deceased overwatch agents.

Modern Day

Jesse has the best and worst timing, I swear. I’m feeling
ill and upset over a news story about another bombing and he invites me out for
a nice dinner in town.

By now, we’ve returned to the U.S. with Jack, while Sombra
is busy hacking her way through as many databases as she can trying to find
who’s behind the attacks. At this point, we have no clue. A call comes in from
an old connection Jack has with police department investigating the attack on
us a few months ago. They found something but he’ll need to wait a few days for
clearance.

I’m in no rush to see what they found; I’m sick to death of
feeling like a gun’s placed to my temple every hour of the day. Which is why I
accept Jesse’s invite; he takes me to a small restaurant where we had our first
date. We’ve been there a few times since, so it doesn’t strike me as odd. Nor
does the violin player; it’s our Anniversary tonight, and I was the one who
forgot. I tell Jesse and he laughs, before kissing my cheek.

“So I get one missed anniversary then?” he asks.

I laugh, “Yeah Cowboy you do. Only one… currently.” I say.

He cocks that grin and the things I want to do to him, even
in public, make my face flush. His eyes twinkling, he whispers,

“Later, you’re free to do as you will with me.”

I grab the lapel of his jacket, pretending to straighten it,
before I kiss him and whisper, “That may include a harness and spurs.”

As I pull back he gives me a confused, terrified look; I
laugh before shaking my head, “Relax cowboy. I was kidding.”

“This time.” Jesse says.

“If it ever gets to that, leather may be involved, but I
promise, the only thing I’ll be doing is tying you up and—” I cut myself off as
the hostess approaches us.

“Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

He places his hand around my waist and we walk behind her,
“I expect you to finish that sentence later tonight.”

“I might do better; I may show you instead.” I whisper.

After we’re seated, Jesse orders our usual and we start
chatting. We try to maintain separate lives because honestly, we do get on each
other’s nerves if we’re constantly together. Other than the previous few weeks,
but that I attribute to running for our lives. Kinda makes the minor annoyances
no longer matter.

Dinner arrives and we start eating; Jesse burps midsentence
and we both have to stop ourselves from laughing. It’s been so long since we’ve
had a normal night, we’re a bit pent up. We start talking about our futures,
and I get a bit weepy. My father and mother talked about what they’d do together
as they grew old together, and…

Jesse reaches across the table and brushes a tear from my
face, “My pa died before I was able to walk. Ma told me a lot of stories about
him though. Said the only reason he couldn’t fight off death this time was
because he didn’t have enough blood left in his body to stay conscious.”

I smile; he’s told me that before, “Yeah. I suppose that’s
why you’ve done your best to keep as much in you, even if you’re bleeding.”

Jesse nods, before taking my hand, “Yeah. Although, I feel
like I need to do something, in case one of us… has an issue with death.”

He doesn’t kneel; he doesn’t say much more. He simply pulls
out a small black box and present me with a simple gold and ruby ring. I
recognize it; it was the cheapest they had at a high end jewelry store, but we
could have bought a car with that money. It’s also the only ring I liked in the
whole place.

“Gabriella Reyes,” he says, “will you do me the honor of
marrying me?”

My mind goes blanks while fear, joy, terror and emotions I
can’t describe tear through me. I look up at him, and see those same, gorgeous
eyes that hold my heart and I smile as I whisper,

“Only if you’ll do me the same honor, Jesse McCree.”

He grins, “I take it my rings back at the apartment?”

I nod, “Of course it is. Nice job making two anniversaries
on the same day.”

He kisses my hand as he slips the ring on, “Saves time,
right?”

I stare at the ring, “Maybe. Just makes it harder on us both
really. Think of the gifts.”

He covers my hand with his and I glance up; he holds my gaze
as he whispers, “The greatest gift I’ve had in my life is you. Anything else,
is just a bonus.”

I cry. I can’t help it. I’m mad cause he’s made me bawl, but
I’m happy because I know he’s telling the truth. He can’t look at me when he’s
lying.

“Cowboy,” I say, sniffing, “if you think you’re getting away
with that, you’ve got another thing coming. Cause my greatest gift, is you
cowboy, and no matter how much insanity you get us into, I would never trade a
day of my life with you for a normal life.”

I see him tearing up too. Good. Bastard anyway. I worked
hard on my makeup. Then again… oh who am I kidding.

It’s makeup. I’ll live.

After drying our eyes, and I blow my nose on a napkin (I’m
an ugly crier. Sue me.), we finish dinner and head back to the car. I don’t get
any jolts down my spine, so we at least know its safe.

But we don’t make it back to the apartment. We pull off onto
a dirt road so we can talk more and look at the stars. More normal. I fall
asleep with my head resting on his shoulder and wake to find him tucking me
into our bed. He’s taken my shoes and dress off, and my new black lace bra. I
can’t sleep with one on, never could. Glad he remembers that too.

He’s taken off his boots and strips out of his pants and
shirt, before climbing in beside me. As he pulls me against him, I feel his
other ‘weapon’ against my hip. I plan to make sure it’s up to industry
standards tomorrow, but tonight… I feel safe.

**********

The next morning, however, the alarm clock is not safe. I
slam the snooze button, and fumble around until I can turn the damn thing off.
Jesse chuckles and kisses my shoulder,

“Not a morning person?” he asks.

“About as much as you are
a morning person.” I mumble.

I smile when I feel the ring on my finger; I roll over and
bury my head against his neck. He embraces me, until I blow a raspberry against
his skin. He jolts away from me as I laugh,

“Not fair, woman! You know how sensitive my neck is.” He
says.

I know. I also know how sensitive other parts of him are too, “Should I have done it elsewhere?”

As he begins to speak I place my hand on his chest; his
mouth snaps shut especially when I start a slow descent. His skin isn’t smooth,
but it is warm, and I admit I’ve spent many an hour exploring every inch of it.
I crawl on top of him, kissing him; he knows if he wants to, he can make me
stop. He trusts me, which makes me all the hungrier for him.

I kiss down his jaw, neck and tease his nipple with my
tongue. He grunts and I feel his cock twitch and I reach down to gently stroke
him through the fabric.

“Darlin’,” he whispers, “you keep that up and we’ll both be
disappointed.”

I laugh inside, “I can never be disappointed with you, Jess.
I love how much we drive each other crazy, especially in bed. Besides, you showered;
I wouldn’t have an issue cleaning you up. With my tongue.”

He whimpers, “Darlin’.”

Okay enough teasing. Even though I have licked the poor
clean… twice typically. Ha ha.

Once he’s regained his hold on himself, he gives me a wicked
grin that makes me wet; his mouth drops to my left breast, his right hand to my
right and that damned left hand of his, drops between my legs. That damned
tongue of his again.

I accept his punishment with as much grace as I can muster,
considering I really want to beg him to fuck me until we’re both limping.
Instead, he brings me to just under the peak, before rolling me beneath him and
running hot kisses down from my collar bone, along my sternum, stomach, where
he pauses to kiss the growing children inside me, and continues down to take me
into his mouth.

I come. Harder than the night we woke from a mutual
nightmare. And I as his tongue swirls and delves and wrings what he can from
me, a thought occurs to me.

He’s going to be husband. He’s mine and will be so for the rest
of our time together.

I fall over the edge again, muffling my scream with a
pillow. Panting as the pleasure subsides, and he kisses his way back up my body
to kiss me, I use my feet to pull down his boxers. Before he can spread my legs
and impale me, I slide down his front, and pin his hips to the bed with my
hands. Tit for tat after all.

He tastes warm as I take him into my mouth, salty from the
sweat and pre. It’s no wonder one of our favorite positions is sixty-nine. I
drop my mouth to his balls, and toy with them. He whimpers; I love it when he
does that. I stroke his sac with as light a touch as I can, coaxing their heavy
load up into his shaft.

I take him into my mouth again and close my eyes as I swirl
my tongue around his head. It’s his turn to grab the pillow as he shouts and
releases into my mouth. An odd taste, but I swallow every drop.

As I rise, I pull the pillow off his face and see him
staring down at me with glazed eyes, “You okay?” I ask.

He nods, “Not sure…. I can… get hard… for a bit.” He says
between pants.

I giggle; he’s the only one I will ever giggle in front of
willingly. “Poor baby. Want me to help you?”

He groans and shakes his head, “I’ll come again if you do.”

Nice. Love it when he’s this wound up. I kiss his hip and
crawl up the bed, leaning against his side as we both recover. Honestly, I’d
probably being coming too.

I lay my head on his chest, and whisper, “I think I can give
you a few minutes.”

He chuckles, “You’re tired too huh?”

“Yeah but… I recover quicker.”
He doesn’t respond; only when he slips two fingers into my pussy and I moan do
I see the devilish look in eyes. Okay, recovering quicker means shit if you’re
coming while the other person rests. And I am. He knows where to stroke and
where to thrust and even when I dig my teeth into his shoulder, he keeps up the
onslaught.

I knew he had talented hands, but this is ridiculous.

When my moans finally make him erect, he stops; I’m soaking
wet and when I impale myself on his cock, we both groan. Fuck. I come a moment
later just from him being inside me.

When he starts thrusting up, and letting gravity drop me
back down, I’m worried I’ll pass out. This last until I lean forward and bury
my head against his neck again. He wraps his arms around my body and thrusts
into me, as hard and as fast as he can.

He’s on the edge too and I’m positive we’re going to break
ourselves at this pace.

Whatever thought I had next is gone when we both come. No
screaming, no gasping; in fact, we’re both holding our breath for a long minute
until we gasp and collapse in a spent heap. I’ve heard of coming so hard you
stop breathing for a minute. This is the first time I’ve experienced it.

Hopefully we’ll slow down in our old age; I don’t think I’d
be able to keep this up past fifty. Well, maybe fifty-five but I digress. I
hear a knock on the door, and Jesse, somehow, finds the energy to cover us both
with the blanket.

Sombra peeks in, sees us red-faced and breathing hard, and
rolls her eyes, “Girl, for the sake of fluffy bunnies would you stop acting
like a pair?” She says in spanish.

Not missing a beat, Jesse and I both say, “Still not getting
any?” in Spanish.

She snorts and heads back out. We know we’ll have to get up
soon, but for now…

I snuggle against Jesse’s chest, as he puts his arm around
me and kisses my forehead.

He’s asleep before I am, but it’s not long after he starts
breathing calmly that I drop off too.

@zarcake-writes