Overwatch Shipping Oneshots

Caught - Widowtracer

Hello all, how are you doing?

Here's a talon!tracer/overwatch!widowmaker oneshot requested by @Nukes21 that I liked the idea of a lot. I may do another part to this(depending on how motivated I am when I go back to school) because idk it was fun to write.

I hope this is good and, as always, enjoy!

~~~

"This isn't fair!" Tracer screamed, thrashing her legs as two of the Overwatch men dragged her from the aircraft. The more serious looking one rolled his eyes, sighing, whilst the other chuckled.

"You think so? 'Cause y'almost killed a couple of our best. I think this is perfectly fair."

Tracer growled, trying once again to pull her arms from their grasp. The other man spoke, in a slightly annoyed tone.

"It would be wise to stop. You are wasting your time trying to get away."

Maybe she was but it wasn't going to stop her from attempting to get free.

~~~

It had been, hands down, the worst mission she had ever been on in her life. The objective had been a risky one, not to mention they were horrifically outnumbered and no one else seemed halfway competent enough to have been sent in the first place. That much was clear from the fact that they were all dead now, bar herself and Reaper, the latter of whom had managed to escape with out her(she made a mental note to obliterate him when she got out of the Overwatch facility). So, yes, it was fair to say that the past few hours had been nothing short of rubbish.

Her chronal accelerator had been damaged too, making escaping impossible by any means, as well as putting Tracer in danger of slipping through the cracks again. She pushed down the developing fear that was beginning to rise in her head, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling inside her.

The cell she was thrown in was less than comfortable and very plain. A single bed in one corner, a sink and a toilet in another and that was it. Tracer was left with nothing to do but sulk under the crappy yellow light.

None of this, as far as she was concerned, was her fault! She hadn't asked to be teamed with a bunch of hopeless rookies, she hadn't wanted to go on that dumb mission, she didn't ask to be caught. It was so unfair!

~~~

The first week was absolutely terrible. The food was gross, the people checking on her were annoying, her cell was stuffy, there was nothing to do and she had no way of communicating with Talon, so no one could rescue her. She hoped that it wouldn't take too long to track her down because this was starting to become tedious. The only redeeming quality was that there was a scientist who was capable of properly fixing her chronal accelerator. At least there was that, she supposed.

The second week was much of the same: boring, annoying, really just a waste of her time. Or, so she thought.

It had been almost an hour since lunch and, by now, Tracer had learned the times of the guard switch over. There were exactly three minutes until the next agent was to be there. She was just praying that it wasn't McCree again because she was quite frankly getting sick of him being alive. The last few minutes before the change over we're spent laying on her back, throwing her goggles in the air and catching them. It wasn't the most entertaining thing but that didn't matter.

Lucky for her, when two o'clock rolled around, there was no southern drawl the be heard down the corridors of the watchpoint. Instead, there was a silence that was only broken by the clopping of boots on hard floors.

Shimada-san(she may be a criminal but she had some respect) nodded at the new guard, who was still concealed from sight, and left, his own boots now tapping on the cement.

From the lack of noise, Tracer could narrow the identity of this new guard down to a very small number of people. Ana, Jack, Fareeha, Mako, Satya, Genji or Mei. The others didn't fit the character, setting apart Shimada-san because he had just left.

It couldn't be Mei because her boots don't sound like that. It couldn't be Genji because he would have spoken to his brother. It couldn't be Satya because she was on a mission. It couldn't be Mako because she would be able to hear him breathing. It couldn't be Fareeha because she was with Satya. It couldn't be Jack because today was the day he was supposed to be discussing mission tactics with Ana, who it couldn't be for the same reason.

But who could it be then? Angela would be the next choice but she usually asked about her health as soon as she arrived or at least greet the other agent.

Tracer's though process was broken by a soft tutting from outside.

"Lena, I thought you would be more difficult to catch. You seem to have lost your edge." a smooth, heavily accented voice chided, cutting Tracer to the bone.

Lena... no one had called her that in years. And that voice... it couldn't be, could it?

"Amélie?"

"Oui, ma cherié. It has been too long. I have missed you."

Amélie missed her? That was a new one. She was right though, it had been years since she had seen her former lover and it still hurt to think about. Funny, even after what Tracer did, she was still thinking about her.

"I don't regret it, love, if that's what you want me to say. You should have died then, it would've been easier for the both of us."

But only part of her really meant that. Another part was screaming for forgiveness and love. She had learned to ignore that half.

"Ah, I was afraid so. But this will not change anything, 'Tracer'. I will do what I can to get you back."

Tracer snorted.

"Ha! As I said, lost cause. Why bother in the first place? Just give up."

The other half of her was still getting over Amélie not calling her by her first name. That hurt a little more.

"You know me, ma cherié, I do not give up easily. I will not lose you again."

Those words were so firm and confident that Tracer was starting to believe her.

The rest of the shift was spent in complete silence, not a sound other than their synced breathing and the soft whirr of Tracer's chronal accelerator. When the next guard arrived, one Jesse McCree to ruin Tracer's day, Amélie turned to her and looked her in the eyes.

"I will not give up on you, Lena, mark my words. Au revoir, ma cherié."

The sound of her boots on the floor echoed until they were too far away to be heard, leaving Tracer in the agonising company of a bitchy cowboy and her conflicting thoughts.

This was going to be a long night.