In a time like this, reading a book made out of paper and ink was in most parts considered old-fashioned or even antiquated, but Lena Oxton did not care about such things. She loved reading it in the evening, feeling the pages under her fingers and smelling its scent; it never failed to calm her down after long, stressful days at Overwatch. So it annoyed her even more, when she was interrupted by loud banging on her dorm door. Sighing, she got up and opened it for the late night intruder, and immediately regretted it.

"Hey toots", Jeremy greeted her with a cheerful smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a mission?" Was her only reply.

"Yeah, but as expected, we nailed it. Can I come in?"

He didn't even wait for an answer but instead just invited himself in. "Nice room ya got here. Is that a Billy Talent poster I see? I love it!"

"Jem, I don't want to sound rude, but I've had a rough day, so could you please get straight to the point?"

She saw his self-confidence fade for a second. "Umm, yeah, sure. Sooo, I kinda wanted to ask ya… I mean, it's okay if you say no, but… " He inhaled deeply. "Wouldyouliketogoonadatesometime?"

"Uh…excuse me?"

"Date? With me? Please?"

Okay she'd gotten it this time. She had hoped he wouldn't ask. "Hey, you see, you're a really nice boy, and-"

His smile dropped quickly, and his expression hardened. "Oh. I get it. It's not my fault, you'll say, but we both know I fucked up again somehow, right?"

"NO!" She cursed herself inwardly for her poor choice of words. "No, that's not it at all. Technically, I'd love to go on a date with you. But haven't you noticed what's been happening the past few days? I can't be seen with anyone from Team Fortress, not after what your doctor did."

"Really? That's the problem? Hey, if you knew all the things Doc has done so far, you'd not even be talkin to me right now!" He chuckled lightly. "But I get ya. The situation's been tense, especially Morrison and Amari are throwing a tantrum. Still not a valid reason for a rejection, if ya ask me."

"The situation isn't 'tense', it's close to escalating! And not just in headquarters, you know. The public is losing trust in us. Fine, thanks to you we have been able to claim a few victories, but if anyone finds out that a mercenary we hired practically killed one of our best soldiers and we let him continue working… we'd be done for, Jem. They'd hate us, if not imprison us. Don't you understand that?"

"Of course I do, I'm not dumb, okay? I-" He opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, but didn't seem to be finding the right words. "I guess I'd just hoped you'd like me enough to at least give it a try. Looks like I was wrong." With that, he turned around.

"Wait!" Tracer shouted. "Look, I'm sorry. For everything. And I do like you, Jeremy, there's no doubt about that. But working for Overwatch is more than our personal sitcom with a few action scenes, it's the responsibility for thousands of people, for their safety and their well-being. As much as I want to, I can't let some love interest get in the way of something that big."

An ever so slight smile cracked on the young man's face. "Did ya just call me a love interest?"

Lena rolled her eyes. "Figured you'd only hear that." She paused for a second. "In another time, I might just call you that, but as it stands now, we should only stay colleagues."

"Really? Hmmm." In the boy's eyes glistened a hint of mischief. "You do seem pretty serious about your whole hero-thing, toots. It's just too bad that didn't reach Morrison and Amari…"

Had Tracer been drinking anything at the moment, she'd spit it out in surprise and shock. "What?! Are you serious?"

"To see whether it was a joke or a fact, please choose the 'go on a date' option."

"You idiot!" She laughed. "Oh bugger, I can't believe I let you guilt-trip me into this." A short pause again. "Fine, okay. I'll go out with you."

"Yaaay!"

…

"Hey, Doc, you even listening?"

"Huh?" Startled, the Medic looked up into the Engineer's goggle-covered eyes. "Ja, natürlich. Why do you ask?"

"You've been awfully quiet ever since you came into my work-shop. Usually nothing can keep you from chattering or cracking jokes." With a groan, Dell sat down in the chair next to the doctor, wiping a few blueprints from the table to make room for two cups of coffee. It had only been weeks since he had inhabited his new work-shop in Overwatch headquarters, but it already looked as chaotic as the one back at their own base. "C'mon, tell your old friend about it."

The merc sighed. "It's about Doctor Ziegler."

"What about her?"

"She's been avoiding me since the… incident. She won't talk to me any more than necessary."

A small laugh from the Texan. "Did you expect anything else after experimenting on her friend?"

He hadn't told his team about who was really responsible for Reyes' current condition. He had sworn to keep his colleague's secret, and he wasn't going to break that promise. Therefore, he had to answer carefully now. "It's just… I had expected her to… I don't know, to be angry, furious even, to scream at me and…" He sighed deeply. "I simply miss her company, as, excuse my choice of words, bitchy she could be towards me."

It wasn't necessarily a lie, though he really wasn't sure what reaction exactly he had expected from Angela. A 'thank you'? A hug or kiss even? Or maybe simply appreciation?

The doctor stayed with Engineer for one more hour before going back to his room and slumping down on his bed. He just lay there, staring at the clean white ceiling, his thoughts once more with the blonde woman. He hadn't worried that much about a social relationship since his childhood, it mostly wasn't worth the trouble. This time, however, he couldn't stop his thoughts from circling. Had he done something wrong? Said anything that offended her? Not that he'd notice, of course, he never noticed such things. He's had this problem in youth, when he'd come home beaten up and bruised because he hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut around the neighbor kids. Back then, there had at least been his mother waiting for him at home, tending to his injuries, both the physical and the emotional ones. Even over a hundred years after her death, he still missed her dearly, and the memories of her never faded, waiting to be remembered on alone evenings like this.

"Oh, my poor boy. They hurt you so badly."

They were in the kitchen, a first-aid kit on the small table. Even at his young age, Joseph was probably better at treating wounds than his mother, but it just felt so nice to be comforted. With eyes teary from the sharp sting of the disinfectant, he looked up at her.

"Mama? Why are the other boys like that?"

"Like what, Liebling?"

"You know. Why do they always hit me?"

Her kind brown eyes locked gaze with his icy blue ones, and one of her thin hands caressed his cheek. "They… they just don't understand you."

"Why?"

"Oh honey…" She paused for a second. "You see, your thoughts sometimes don't work like other people's thoughts. You-"

"Is there something wrong with me?" His vision started blurring with tears again, but this time it wasn't the medicine causing it. "That's what they always say. They are calling me a freak, Mama!"

The poverty and work had already left permanent marks on his mother's face, but at moments like this she looked more tired and exhausted than ever. With shaking hands and voice, she cupped his narrow, pale face. "Listen to me very carefully now. You are the sweetest and smartest boy in the world, and although I wish everyone would see that right away, that will never be the case. So, please Joseph, you will have to adjust to their… manners."

"You say that every time! That I have to try to understand them! But why do they never have to make an effort to understand me?"

The only answer he ever received to that question had been a loving hug, but at that time it had been enough.

A loud knock on the door mercilessly interrupted his day-dreaming. A quick glance to the digital clock told him it was time it was time for work – in the medical wing, trying to undo Doctor Ziegler's mistakes. He didn't necessarily feel angry at her, but in his opinion, at least a kind smile would not be too much to ask for what he did for her.

"Are you coming or not?" The soldier who was to escort him to the infirmary – he wasn't allowed to go anywhere near the medical facilities unsupervised – was getting impatient. 'Imbecile', he thought to himself, but nonetheless opened the door, greeting the other man with his best super-villain grin.

"Ah, it's good that you are here. I can't wait to get back to work, I've been missing the smell of blood!"

The doctor's new, or rather, reinforced reputation paired with his smile and remark caused the soldier to shy away hastily, and Medic's smile grew a little wider. It was the little things in life that brought him joy.

…

A disco was not a good place to spend a date at. This evening, Scout had had to learn that the hard way when him and Lena had snuck out of the base. As many new things the future has brought, the disco had changed the least – just as always it was a loud, dirty place containing loud, dirty people, sweaty and drunk bodies mingling together to horrible music. The two had only gone there because a popular DJ was supposed to have a gig, but the guy didn't even show up. Nevertheless they had stayed and tried to enjoy their evening together, with not so much success. At the end of the night, Scout had been vomited on, he himself had vomited on the expensive looking dress of a young and considerably pissed off woman, and Tracer had broken an older man's nose because he had grabbed her backside.

"All in all not such a bad date", Jeremy joked when they were out of the disco and walking back to headquarters, to loosen up the mood.

"Still the worst I've ever had", the Brit answered. She wasn't mad at him however, it hadn't been his fault after all. And admittedly, it had been quite entertaining to see the pretty redhead beat the poor boy with her puke-stained stilettos, making him hide in the bathroom for over an hour. She chuckled at the memory.

"Glad to see ya laugh, toots. Hey, you feel like goin' anywhere else?"

"Is it going to be as fun as your last idea?"

"Ha ha, very funny. I just wanna end this date on a good note, ya know?"

If there was one thing true about the young merc it was that he was persistent; not even a puke-stained T-Shirt could stop him from trying to score, and if she had to be honest, that was actually why Lena liked him as much as she did. So naturally, she didn't object when Scout proposed sitting down a bench together in a park. The woman shivered a bit as they did so. Only weeks before, when the mercs were being hired by Overwatch, summer had still been around; now, the cold air and fog announced autumn.

"Sooo… where did ya grow up?" It was clear from the uncertainty in his voice that Scout had not so much experience with dates – at least concerning the talking aspect, she didn't know about the other, ahem, aspects, and she wasn't planning on finding out too soon.

"In London. I lived with my mother and sister in a small flat, but it was enough for the three of us; my father had died shortly before my birth, I never knew him. There's not much else to say though, I had a boringly satisfying childhood. What about you? I heard you grew up with seven brothers, that must have been challenging!"

"Betcha it was. We were basically fightin all the time, at least when Ma wasn't looking. Since I was the youngest they'd often pick on me, but you what they say: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, which is probably why I'm such a bad-ass mercenary now!" He winked at her and grinned.

"And what about your dad?" His cocky smile froze in an instant upon the mention of his father, and he turned away from her, gesturing her to leave the topic be.

"My dad is dead to me." The answer came with a coldness Tracer had never before heard in his voice. Although impolite, he'd never sounded this harsh.

"Jem, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Just leave it, ok?" She decided to do as he said – partly because of the embarrassment she'd certainly feel if she were to ruin the date when the other party was Scout. They sat together in silence, with Lena cursing herself inwardly. Just as she'd asked the question, she'd remembered what she'd read in his file, in the jet on their way to the merc's base: apparently, the American had grown up without a father and without knowing why; he was believed to have left the family shortly after his son's birth. But there must have happened more, something that would explain Scout's outburst.

"Hey, toots?" She turned to look at him.

"Yes?"

"The question is probably pretty dumb, but… you think I got a real chance with you?"

Lena laughed softly. "Hey, would I have gone out with you if it were otherwise?"

"I dunno. You could have just felt pity for me or something." There was a short pause in conversation when she took a long look at him, smiling tenderly. She remembered how she didn't really like him at first, he'd struck her as annoying and bratty; now she hadn't only gotten to know the self-assured, confident young man he wanted to be seen as, but also the insecure and hurt side of him that people usually didn't acknowledge. A warm feeling washed over her, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and placed her soft lips on his.

No, she didn't pity him; she admired him.