Overwatch: Jinxed

Chapter 8: Home

"This is where you can stay," Tracer smiled broadly, opening the door and walking inside. "I mean, it's not much, and if you wanted to stay back home then of course you're able to, love - loads of us stay everywhere else, at our own homes and all that, but..."

Tracer's words were drowned out.

Isabell was lost.

It was huge. Everything. The black bed with blue rings, the ebony chest of drawers, the glass-and-black-marble desk, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lush carpet, the starlike curtains, the computers, the bathroom, the... Jesus, she could go on all day. It was lush and luxurious, and stank of money, the glass polished to perfection and her own minibar, fridge and even coffee machine.

"...Even me, you know, sometimes I'll stay out somewhere else just for a change, yeah?"

"I didn't even know beds came this big," Isabell stared, running a finger along the black wood and the blue rings. "How did you know about the--"

"That was me," Tracer grinned with a bow. "I knew I wasn't letting you leave until you were in Overwatch. You're too valuable a player in the game. So I called ahead, and got Genji to work some magic on this bed."

"Genji carves?"

"Genji does a lot of stuff," Tracer told her. "I'm pretty sure we don't know the half of it. This was just a spare bedroom in case we got some of our old members back - Jack designed each of them himself. But the specific plans were lost, so they never got completed."

"Jack?" Isabell asked, running a finger along the immaculate glass top on her desk.

"Soldier 76. I'm pretty sure you're allowed to know that now that you're part of Overwatch. With your research, you already know most of us. But Jack... he was..." she bit her lip. "Different."

"He's out there, you know," Isabell said quietly, sitting on the wood bed-end. "You could go find him. Ask him to come back. There was evidence of him in Mexico a few months back, and--"

"No," Tracer cut her off. "No. Jack knows we're here. If he wants to come back, then he will. He's... you know what happened to our last headquarters. In fact, that goes for all of our members - I mean, we have Lucio. He was recruited fairly recently, if a couple of months counts as recently. But everyone knows we're here, and if they want to come, they will." Her voice went quiet. Very unlike her. "We can't force them to come back, love. It's dangerous, this line of work, and as you can see..." she tapped her Chronal Accelerator. "Nobody makes it out unscathed."

Isabell had more questions, but she didn't push it. Even the bouncy, ever-laughing Lena had fears. Limits.

Tracer got up with a smile and headed for the door. Right before she closed the door, Isabell said, "Thank you."

Tracer paused, her hand on the door, and didn't look at her. "For what?"

"For saving me just as much as I saved you. For bringing me somewhere that all the misfits go. For giving me... a place to call home. At least until I can try to fix the laws about Junkers in Australia."

"No problem, love," Tracer nodded, and Blinked.

The door quietly swung in the breeze as she left.

The night sky was glittering outside, and Isabell got up and threw open the massive windows to breathe in the cool air. It smelled of the sea and the rainforest, just like home. Only home had more cars, more pollution, and something else. Some kind of tangy, metallic taste in the air that wasn't here. From the travel time and smell, Isabell was pretty sure she was somewhere in Polynesia, on an island that Overwatch had bought while it was still in its prime.