Just a short preview into the main plot of the story. Sorry it's so short :/

Been playing a lot of Overwatch lately on PC and I just had to write out something.

Lena Oxton, or more commonly known as Tracer, was sitting inside an empty dim lit cafe, casually stirring her cold tea. She looked out the window, seeing the large crowd in the center of King's Row, all of them with candles and rosaries in their hands. She looked down to her set of scones, which remained untouched. Lena kept stirring her tea, hoping to lose herself in the forever spinning whirlpool that was created in her cup. She did not want to be here, nor did she want to be watching the large crowd mourn their loss. Both human and omnics alike were standing, some in prayer for their fallen comrade. Lena suddenly stopped stirring and slammed her spoon down on the countertop, looking away from the window. A gloved hand carefully picked up the tea and scones, placing the two on a tray as Lena looked up to them.

"I was gonna drink it you know.."

She muttered, but the older figure just sighed. The waitress placed the tray aside and reached under the countertop, pulling out a bottle of fine aged Bourbon whiskey and two shot glasses.

"Maybe something a little stronger than tea will calm your nerves Oxford."

The older woman coolly replied, already pouring two shots and handing a cup to Lena.

"I told you it's Oxton!" Lena replied as she drank the dark liquid, then slamming the glass down. The older woman sighed.

"If you break another cup it's gonna come out of your pay." Lena just slouched forward and reached for the bottle instead. The waitress kept the bottle out of reach, which made Lena groan.

"Come on boss. Just one more." Lena whined, practically pleading. Her usually bubbly happy-go-lucky self was gone, and was replaced with a whiney alcoholic.

"Drinking is not the answer. Just look at what it did to my people." The older woman shot back, but not before taking a drink of the Bourbon herself. She scoffed.

"Lena, you're young. Don't go ruining your body drinking. You should be lucky I closed up shop early today, especially for tonight." Lena just sighed and crossed her arms across her chest.

"You don't know anything. You're not from here." Lena spat out, earning a stern look from the other woman.

"I may not be of English blood, but I certainly have lived longer than you. " She told Lena in a cold and harsh voice, pouring another cup and this time handing it to Lena. Lena took the drink and slammed it down, not caring if she was getting drunk. Right now, she just wanted to forget everything. The older woman looked out the window, watching the crowd with a longing gaze.

"It must be nice to be loved by others, to have people care for you like this."

She softly spoke, but that only made Lena want to drink even more. Today wasn't a good day. They both knew what day it was today, everyone grieved and mourned their loss. The older woman sighed.

"It's been what? Two years since then?" She asked, which only got a curt nod from Lena.

"If only they could just forget about it." She muttered, which gained her a slap to the back of the head.

"Kids these days have no respect."

Lena sneered. "Like you know how it is!" Lena started sobbing.

"You don't know what it's like, having to relive this nightmare, to never wake up, to never be able to return home. You don't know any of it!" Lena cried out, sobbing as the slightly darker skinned woman rubbed the back of her neck.

"That still doesn't give you an excuse to drink, to cast all of your anger on me. I saved you!"

She slammed her fist down on the wood countertop. Lena only cried more.

"You shouldn't have. You should have left me! Maybe then this wouldn't be a nightmare!" Lena cried out, wiping away the tears in her eyes before grabbing a jacket and quickly putting it on. She donned a baseball cap and headed for the door.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Lena didn't even turn to face her.

"Far away from you. And to get a drink."

She muttered before leaving and walking away from the deserted cafe. The older woman sighed, leaning on the countertop.

"Oh Lena, there's nothing you can do to make it better. You just got to accept it." She spoke softly to herself, then taking another drink of Bourbon and cleaning up the mess.

Lena was in no mood to talk. She was halfway drunk, making her way downtown to her other casual drinking spot, the Broken Tavern. She hated the looks she got from people, how they looked at her with disgust, pity, and remorse. She hated it. She kept her head low, avoiding the main road and going around the large crowd. She didn't dare to look to the sides, to see everyone praying, sharing a saddened look, mourning a loss that occurred two years ago. She wanted no part in it. She paved her way past the crowd and finally found herself at the doorsteps of her destination. She walked in and sat away from the windows, already ordering a drink. All she wanted to do was to get drunk, and fast. The only way she could cope with something was to drink, drink, and drink. That's all she could do. That was all she believed she can do. She dug herself a hole with no way out. The bar had only a few customers, of course those all getting drunk to mourn their loss. She wasn't the only one with the idea to get drunk, and at least she wasn't alone. Time seemed to go by slow, with every drink she took, it seemed only as if time wanted her to relive this moment over and over again, never letting her be free of it. Lena went to the woman's restroom, puking up all of the alcohol she drank. She slumped down on her knees, fighting back the urge to cry her heart out.

"Damn.. looks like that native was right.."

She choked on a few sobs, tears were already streaming down her face, splattering all over the two toned tile floor. Lena stayed in the stall for another five minutes, trying not to cry and create attention to her. Finally, she stood up, flushed what she puked up and went to the sink to wash it all off. She didn't dare to look at the woman in the mirror. Her face was unrecognizable, 'a tragedy' was written all over her face. She could feel the tears fighting back, her hands gripped the porcelain sink, she bit down on her lower lip as an attempt to stop the tears. The door opened, and the waitress from before stood at the door frame, slowly closing her door behind her.

"Come on Lena, let's go home. I think you had enough to drink for today."

She said to Lena in a calm voice, which made the brunette start crying and practically running to the set of open arms. The two left the bar, and the darkened sky began to cry, clearing part of the crowd. Some still stayed there, not caring if they got sick mourning their loss. Lena and the older woman walked along the sidewalk, with an umbrella shading them from the rain. Lena was in no mood to talk, her lifeless eyes were glued to the pavement they walked on. The older woman snuck a look at the pictures of deceased one. There, in the heart of the remaining crowd stood a large picture of a familiar brunette, wearing her infamous brown flight jacket and her signature orange goggles. It wasn't Tekhartha Mondatta they were mourning, but the infamous Tracer, A.K.A Lena Oxton. Her mouth ran dry, knowing how the public were oh so wrong but there was no way Lena could get out of this. It wasn't only the public that thought she was dead, but also her teammates, who were the ones to announce her death.

"It's been two years since then.."

She muttered to herself as she led Lena back to the cafe, letting the brunette walk upstairs where she now lived. The older woman stayed standing at the window, her arms crossed while watching the crowd slowly disappear. She poured herself another drink, slowly sipping the smooth alcohol, gazing into the distance.

"An unfortunate end to her career.."

She softly spoke to no one, but then quickly finished her drink before going upstairs to check on Lena. She slowly opened the door, seeing her Brit crying softly, huddled up in a ball under the sheets. Today was not a day neither of them wanted to remember, and with the public broadcasting this event everywhere, it would be impossible to forget, especially the Brits. It was already bad enough with the rage between the Omnics and the humans in England, especially in King's Row. And now the 'death' of Lena Oxton, who was pretty much the mascot for Overwatch. She stayed with Lena that night, comforting her and holding her as she cried her eyes out. Looks like she won't be opening tomorrow morning.

Tell me what you guys think! I'll hopefully have another chapter up later this week maybe :/