Hey everyone!

So this fic is basically my attempt at writing a fanfiction about a video game universe. I chose Overwatch, because it's one of the only video games I'm familiar with, and one with a cool universe. Although I'll make sure that the story is accurate to the games, please forgive me if I get some details wrong. For this story, I'm putting the time that Overwatch is disbanded at being a six year period before the Recall.

This story follows an intelligent teenager struggling to survive in a post-Petras Act world. He breaks into the old Overwatch Gibraltar base to look for parts and stumbles upon our favorite gorilla scientist Winston, who is currently in hiding after the Petras Act banned Overwatch. As you can probably tell, they soon become friends, working together to prepare for Overwatch's return. Enjoy!

Scavenging Discoveries:

Strait of Gibraltar - Four years before Recall

Most of Wes' fellow scavengers said he was crazy for going to the old Overwatch Gibraltar base. Even though the program had shut down nearly two years ago, most of them still considered the place to be filled with ghosts of the heroes that had once lived there. However, Wes was the bravest of the scavenger teens, and he was determined to find something to sell.

He was there when Overwatch fell, and when an evil organization took out his family because they were rich, sending him fleeing into the underground world of orphans and thieves and struggling to survive. He survived by finding old Omnic parts and other electronics in and around the city, selling them to black market vendors for some change to buy food. However, he figured parts and machines from an old superhero base would make him a lot of money, so he was determined to enter the old base and see what he could take.

It wasn't that hard to break into; sure, there was an old fence with signs telling intruders to keep out, but Wes managed to find a chink that allowed him inside. It also helped that most of the locals thought the place was cursed, but the teen didn't believe in curses. Any rumors of Overwatch members still there, driven mad and willing to hang trespassers by their thumbs, were of no concern to the teen. Besides, if Overwatch had been around, his family probably wouldn't have died, so he figured this was the dead organization's way of paying him back. Don't get him wrong, he didn't blame them for their deaths; he just wished they could have helped him and his family.

The old base was built into the side of the Gibraltar cliffs, accessible by a sturdy path with a rail. Even though it had only been two years since the program was shut down, the place looked like it had been neglected for years; some of the metal exteriors were already rusting and a few rocks from the nearby cliffs had fallen onto the buildings. He encountered another fence, but used some wire cutters to swing open the gate and walk in.

Wes stared at the open courtyard surrounded by metal towers, like some castle in the olden days. Even for the late 2060's, the base looked like it had been ahead of its time, given the satellite dishes and other electronics on top of some of the towers. They would surely bring in a decent amount of money, but he figured there were more electronics inside, so he looked for an unlocked door. He eventually found one, the door opening silently as he took out a flashlight and walked into the base.

Even the air had the feel of being abandoned; the air was slightly musty, and devoid of all sound. A few old banners with the Overwatch logo hung on the walls, listless and faded. The space in front of him was open, with a few overturned desks and empty plant holders scattered around. This must have been an entrance area, meaning the electronics would be farther inside, perhaps in storage or something. His backpack could only hold so many electronics, so he needed to make sure he had time to choose what he would take before morning.

"And there's no one here," he told himself as he walked into the building, his footsteps echoing a little through the halls. Sure, it was scarier than he had anticipated, but he reminded himself that no one was here. Overwatch was gone, and so were its members; no one could survive here by themselves with no food, and someone would notice if a superhero was going into the city to get supplies. Still, he couldn't shake the chilled feeling, and his thumbs ached a little as he shone the flashlight around the halls.

He found a workshop/lab some twenty minutes later, grinning at the sight. Tables of metal parts, tools, half-completed machines and plans were everywhere. It was like his birthday, but all Wes could see was dollar signs for each item, knowing he would probably never go hungry again if he were careful with how much he took each time. He was hungry now, but forgot that as he walked into the room, shining the flashlight at the various tables, trying to figure out what to make.

"Processors… metal coupling links… welders." Broken welders, but metal could be used to make just about anything. He could imagine what he could make with some of the items; he had learned long ago completed machines sold better than parts by themselves. And with some of the plans sitting nearby… he was thinking of new ideas already. "I could make anything with all this stuff," he said out loud, taking off his backpack and heading towards a table with especially shiny metal parts.

Wes liked building things. Even before he was orphaned, his parents had hired a private tutor to instruct him in metalwork and craftsmanship. He still built stuff, mainly items to help him if he ever got into a scrap, but he occasionally made items to sell. If he had continued to be Wes Ventorian, he would have grown up to be an architect or scientist, working to make the world a better place and still have a living family. Now, he was just Wes, scavenging for scraps as he tried not to think about how hungry he was.

All in all, going from rich to poor had been super humbling. He had learned quickly to drop his high-and-mighty attitude and treat everyone with respect. He had to become tough, but kind, since being mean got you nowhere, and eventually, the other street orphans and black market vendors had accepted him. He earned their respect, and he was able to survive because of this. In a way, he was grateful that he was a better person [besides breaking into old buildings to steal stuff], though he wished his family hadn't had to pay the price.

His parents. His older brother. His Grandparents. All killed when someone attacked their home. The only reason he had survived was because he had been at a friend's house for a sleepover. However, the group that attacked his family had seized control of their property, money, and business, leaving him with nothing and forcing him to become another ordinary street rat, one of hundreds. He knew he could never return to that world, so he focused on the future, taking it one day at a time.

As Wes examined the many pieces of metal and parts in front of him, he saw what looked like the remains of someone's project. It looked like a drone, but half of it was in pieces, and other parts lay nearby. There was a notebook sitting next to it, and the teen found handwritten notes about the machine, which was meant to be a reconnaissance droid. Whoever was building this must've been pretty smart, he figured, and he was about to put the notebook back when he noticed something that made him pause. Whoever had taken the notes wrote the date of their last entry, which, appeared to have been yesterday.

"No way," he whispered, quickly dropping the notebook and noticing a banana peel laying on the ground nearby. Still yellow and not rotted away with time. Someone had been there recently, and probably still was. Probably one of those crazy Overwatch agents who like to string people up by their thumbs or something.

They're not going to do that, he thought, turning around to leave when a flying drone floated into the room, shining a light at his face.

INTRUDER, it said in a clear female voice, followed by a humming sound the teen was all too familiar with. He ducked as the stun shot whizzed over his head, hitting the wall behind him. Adrenaline causing him to move, he picked up a piece of metal and threw it at the machine, hitting it and causing it to spin away. As it did so, he ran from the room, heading back towards where he had come in.

The dim hallways were now awash with light as Wes ran towards the exit. Fortunately, he knew the way he had come, and a few minutes later, he was sprinting through the entrance atrium. He reached the door, trying to push it open, but discovering that it was now locked. He didn't know where else he could go; surely whoever was here knew he was there, and would come looking for him. Since he didn't know where this person might be, he ducked behind an overturned desk, trying to catch his breath.

It's gonna be fine, he thought to himself, calming down as he reached for his backpack. You can think of something to get of this and - He paused when his hand felt air, and he realized that he had taken the backpack off upstairs in the lab. All his items were in there, meaning he didn't have anything to defend himself with. "DANG IT!" The last part came out as a shout.

The sound of a door opening made him cover his mouth, and he curled up in a ball under the desk, praying he wasn't found. He heard the familiar sound of a drone flying around, but he also heard slow footsteps echo through the room, coming closer. Wes knew that being hung by his thumbs would surely hurt, but he told himself that he wouldn't get caught, and if he did, they wouldn't hurt him. Overwatch agents were the good guys, and they didn't kill anyone. At least he hoped so.

"Athena," someone said in English, sounding maybe a few yards away from his hiding place, but the teen couldn't tell. "Are all exits locked down?"

AFFIRMATIVE, WINSTON, the robotic voice replied. THEY MAY HAVE ALREADY ESCAPED. SHOULD I SEND A DRONE TO SEARCH FOR THEM?

"No. There's no way the could have made it out. Whoever's here won't be leaving for a long time. I'll find them and deal with them accordingly."

Oh no, the teen thought, trying not to let his breathing give himself away. Hugging his knees, he prayed that everything would be alright, that whoever was looking for him would give up and leave, and that he could maybe find a way out.

Without warning, the desk he was hiding underneath was lifted into the air, exposing the teen's position. He couldn't help but scream as he saw who was standing there, all rational thought forgotten.

It was a gorilla. A freaking gorilla. Wes had seen them before in books and movies, but they were a lot taller and scarier in person. Especially this one, which was holding the desk in his hands, and wore some sort of armor. It was a miracle the teen wasn't dead yet. The drone from earlier floated in the air nearby, a taser attachment aimed at the teen. Screaming again, the teen covered his face, trembling with fear.

"I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T HANG ME BY MY THUMBS," he yelled in English, trying his best not to cry [if he was gonna die, then he would die with a dry face] and failing. "I LIKE MY THUMBS I'M SORRY FOR BREAKING IN!" He waited for the sound of a taser or for the gorilla to grab him and drag him to wherever they chained intruders by their thumbs, wishing he had just stayed in town.

"Oh my-" The teen heard the sound of the desk being set down, and felt a shadow fall over him. "Athena, stand down; it's a civilian."

"Please don't hurt me," Wes begged, trying not to show fear [could gorillas smell fear?].

"It's okay," the gorilla said kindly. "I'm not going to hurt you, and as for hanging you by your thumbs, I believe that went out of practice centuries ago."

The teen was still scared, partly because of the talking gorilla, but his crying subsided a little as he thought about what Winston had said. He should be relieved that the gorilla wasn't going to hurt him, but he was still recovering from the scare he had just had. After all, one doesn't usually run into talking gorillas, so it took him a few moments to calm down. He then heard something move next to him, and he opened his eyes to find the gorilla holding out his backpack to him.

"Is this yours," Winston asked.

"Y-Yes," Wes stammered, reaching out and taking the backpack, unable to look the gorilla in the eye, instead looking at the overturned desk.

"I apologize again if I scared you; we thought it was an attacker of some sort."

"You… Are y-you an Overwatch agent?"

The gorilla paused. "I used to be," he said, almost sadly. "What were you doing here? I thought the locals were too scared to come around the peninsula."

"I… I was just…" He felt like someone being admonished by an adult, and wondered how angry the gorilla would get when he learned he was being robbed. "I was thinking that I… "

"Come here to steal parts," the gorilla finished before the teen could think of what to say. "I checked your bag; it's full of parts and machinery, probably stolen from other abandoned labs." Wes was silent, waiting for the Overwatch agent to chastise him for robbing him. "I never thought I'd get any scavengers here, much less a teenager."

"I'm sorry," the teen said. "I didn't think anyone was still here, and -"

"Did you build this," Winston asked, and the teen had to look at what the gorilla was holding. It was a small device he called a flash grenade, used to blind an opponent [it was non-lethal; it just emitted a bright light until he shut it off].

"Y-Yes," Wes said. "It's meant to blind someone temporarily so I can escape."

"Use it often?"

"A few times." To his surprise, the gorilla took out a pair of ordinary glasses, putting them on and examining his flash grenade further. He started to wonder if all those notes and plans upstairs belonged to the gorilla, and realized the gorilla was probably intelligent [which would explain how he could talk].

"But how do you avoid becoming blinded yourself?"

"I made special glasses that protect my eyes…" He frowned. "You sound… smart."

"For a gorilla," he asked, examining the miniature device.

The teen felt a chill of fear, realizing he had probably said something wrong and had insulted the agent. "I… I d-didn't m-m-mean -"

"I'm not mad," Winston told him, taking off his glasses. "Most people usually have that reaction when they first meet me; I'm used to it." He handed the teen the device. "Very clever design, especially given your access to tools and materials. It would have been useful out in the field."

"Th-Thanks," he replied, taking back the machine. "It took me a few months to get it to work." He looked over at the drone. "Am I still gonna get tased?"

"Oh no! This is Athena, the operating system for this base, and currently my only fellow agent."

GREETINGS, the drone said in a pleasant voice. SHOULD I RUN A FACIAL RECOGNITION SCAN, WINSTON?

"My name's Wes," the teen replied, not wanting his whole history revealed. "And I'm sorry for breaking in; I was just trying to make some extra money and didn't know anyone was still living here. I won't do it again."

"For your family," the former agent asked.

"Uh… it's kinda just me," the teen explained. "They were killed a few months after this program was shut down."

The gorilla appeared to look guilty and sorrowful at that statement. "I'm… sorry to hear that," he said. "It wasn't my idea for the program to be shut down. I don't think any of us wanted the program to end…"

THE PETRAS ACT PREVENTS US FROM CONTINUING ANY OVERWATCH-RELATED ACTIVITIES, Athena explained. ALL OTHER AGENTS ARE IN HIDING AROUND THE WORLD.

"I'm not necessarily upset with you," Wes explained. "Though I will admit, I used to kinda not like you guys because you weren't around anymore… Though I know about the Petras Act; you couldn't have done anything."

"Though I am still sorry," Winston said, taking in the teen's appearance. "I take it you're some sort of scavenger?"

"Yep. Doesn't bring in much, but it's better than nothing." He climbed to his feet, still dwarfed by the gorilla agent. "Sorry for breaking in and all of that; I'll just leave now."

"I could give you some old parts if you need the money," he told him. "And I have food, if you're hungry."

"I'm fine," the teen lied, but his stomach grumbled at that moment, giving him away.

BODILY SCANS SHOW YOU ARE MALNOURISHED, Athena spoke up.

"Then it's settled," Winston said, holding up a hand before the teen could protest. "No arguing; I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't give you something to eat before you left. I'm afraid I mostly have fruit and peanut butter, but I'm still waiting on the next shipment of food to show up."

"How do you even get food," Wes asked, following the gorilla towards another door, heading down a hallway; he was hungry, so he figured he might as well get some free food.

"Drones and remote-control ships," he explained. "And I still have friends who I keep in contact with. Since no one usually comes around here anymore, I haven't had to worry about anyone noticing any shipments coming here." He looked at the teen. "May I ask what you usually eat?"

The teen hesitated, but figured he might as well tell him, since Athena already pointed out he was malnourished. "Mainly what I can find. I make some money if I sell parts or machines, and I go to a street vendor for meals. Otherwise, I either beg or go hungry."

"That sounds awful."

"I'm used to it by now. Besides, there's a food donation place with free soup every night, so at least I eat one real meal a day. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

"You shouldn't be living like this," Winston said, almost bitterly. "I should be doing something to -"

YOU KNOW WE CAN'T, WINSTON, Athena spoke up.

The gorilla sighed. "I know… But what about you," he asked the teen. "Have you lived in Spain your whole life?"

"My family moved here years ago," Wes explained. "We used to live in the US, but my mom wanted to move closer to her family... They all died a few months after the Petras Act, and I've been on my own since then. There's not much else to talk about."

"Though your craftsmanship skills are incredible for someone in your situation," Winston said. "Natural talent?"

"I've always like building things. It's just a hobby, though."

"If you could build something as complex as that machine you showed me, it's more than a hobby," the gorilla told him. "That's real talent. You could get a job with that level of sill."

"I know, but most places aren't exactly looking to hire teenage scavengers who live in the streets."

They finally reached another room that appeared to be where the former agent lived. It was large, and one wall was taken up by a computer with multiple displays. Another worktable sat near a few crates, covered with notes and other metal bits and machines. There was also a pillow and blanket nearby, indicating that the gorilla had often spent the night in his workshop and passed out before going to bed. Out of all things, a tire swing hung from the ceiling, but Wes was too busy looking at the notes to pay attention.

"Wow," he said, looking at the plans for a satellite. "Did you design this?"

"Yes," the gorilla replied, walking towards one of the crates. "Most of them were designed for agents to use out in the field, but I doubt they'll ever be made now. I've still built prototypes, just to keep busy."

"Do you also get parts delivered here?"

"Yes, though this base already had plenty on demand." He walked to the teen, holding out an apple and a bottle of water. "I'm sorry it's not much -"

"It's good," Wes said, accepting both and taking a bite of the fruit. "Wow. I forgot what fresh fruit tasted like…"

Winston gave him a sad smile. "It's the least I can give you."

"You know, I wasn't expecting to get food when I came in here." He gave the gorilla a suspicious look. "You're not mad at me for breaking into here and trying to steal parts and notes?"

"On the contrary, I'm impressed that you were brave enough to attempt to do so. I figured if anyone eventually showed up, it would be a skilled thief and adult."

"Sorry to disappoint," the teen said sarcastically, taking a sip of water. "So you've been hiding out here since the Petras Act?"

"Yes I figured I had to keep a low profile, since I'm not exactly the kind to fit in with a crowd." He gestured to the room. "So Athena and I are making sure this base doesn't fall into ruin… just in case Overwatch ever returns."

"Do you think that'll ever happen," Wes asked.

The gorilla sighed. "I don't know… I hope so," he replied. "It may be years before then, though."

SHOULD I RESUME MY REGULAR SCANS, WINSTON, Athena asked.

"Go ahead." The drone flew over to the computer, landing next to it as a cable plugged itself into the machine. All the screens displayed the same logo, a blue 'A', before returning to maps and news channels.

"This is a cool place," the teen said, looking around the space. "A lot better than my place. I usually sleep in an empty dumpster, if I can find one, though they're usually taken. Usually it's somewhere in an alley." He looked at the gorilla. "Sorry; I must sound pitiful right now."

"A little bit," Winston said honestly.

"I'm not trying to be," the teen said. "I just don't have much to talk about." He turned back to the worktable, taking another bite of the apple. He wondered if he should stop talking so he didn't seem more unfortunate in the gorilla's eyes. For some reason, he wanted the Overwatch agent to not view him as some homeless orphan, even if that was what he was.

"Just out of curiosity," Winston suddenly spoke up, walking over to the table, "do you know how to fix this?"

The teen looked at the item the agent was referring to; it appeared to be some sort of shield device, but it clearly wasn't working. "I dunno," he replied. "I've never tried to fix anything like that before."

"Wanna give it a shot," the gorilla asked.

"Why?"

"Consider it mild curiosity," Winston replied, pushing the machine towards the teen. "Here are some notes if you'd like to look them over."

"I'm fine," the teen said, setting his apple in a clean area and taking off his backpack. He grabbed his special glasses and put them on. Turning the dial on the side, a digital display appeared, and he adjusted the dial to give him a scan of the device. The gorilla said nothing, but simply watched, eating a banana as the teen examined the readouts he received. "Got it." He took off the glasses, grabbed a nearby part, and got to work.

Wes liked building and fixing things; to him, it was like a complex puzzle that he had to solve. This machine, however, was more complex than any machine he had ever seen, and it took him a while just to get to the main problem with the device. After that, it was easier, and he found himself taking apart sections in order to rebuild them, and adding more pieces. He occasionally took a break to wash his hands and get some water, before he continued.

Eventually, after who knew how long, Wes placed the final piece, which was the power source of the machine. He pressed a button on the side, watching as a small force shield surrounded the machine, the whole thing one foot in diameter. He could make it bigger if he wanted to, but he knew that it would become weaker the bigger it became.

"Impressive," Winston said, taking out his glasses and examining the machine. "You didn't even look at my notes."

"I didn't need them; I prefer to look at machines without outside interference."

"And those glasses you wore?"

Wes showed them to him. "Came up with them myself. It scans devices and creates a 3D model for me to view from any angle should I need to. I can also change the settings to sunglasses, which I use with the flash grenade."

"How did you get this equipment," he asked, turning the electronic visor in his hands. "This is high-grade titanium."

"I… That's from before I was homeless," Wes said.

Winston looked at him. "So… you were rich?"

"My parents were, and they encouraged me to build." He looked back at the shield, tapping a nearby remote to turn it off. "It's one of the only things I took with me when I left."

The gorilla gave him a sad look. "I can tell you miss them." He handed back the glasses. "These glasses remind me of my dad."

"Your dad?"

The agent smirked. "I assure you, I had one. I was raised on a colony off Earth with a group of genetically-engineered gorillas. One of the doctors, Dr. Harold Winston, took me under his wing when he saw that I was advancing more quickly than the others. He taught me everything he knew about science and technology, and taught me all about Earth... He was one of the smartest humans I've ever met." His face grew nostalgic, and the teen could tell that this Dr. Harold was a good person. However, he could already guess what happened to him.

"One day, the other gorillas revolted and killed all the humans, including him," Winston continued. "They wanted the moon base to themselves. I didn't want any part of it, so I built a rocket and came to Earth. Overwatch found me and offered me to join, allowing me to help mankind like he did." He took off his glasses. "These were his, actually."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Wes said. "He sounds like an awesome guy."

"He was."

"But… I remember learning about the Horizon Lunar Colony. That wasn't very long ago." He frowned at the gorilla. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"What?! You don't sound like you just got out of college."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Winston grinned. "But I believe in both of our cases, age doesn't affect how smart we are."

"True that," the teen replied, checking his watch. "I should be going; I need to get some sleep before dawn."

"You're welcome to crash here if you want. They're still rooms upstairs from where the other agents used to stay; it's more comfortable than an alleyway."

"I really can't," Wes said, picking up his backpack. "You've already done enough by giving me food."

"Okay. But if you ever wanna stop by for a visit, feel free to; I'm always working on some new invention, and you can also borrow my tools and materials to work on your own projects."

"Thanks," the teen replied, feeling like he was getting too many rewards for trying to steal from this guy. "And I won't tell anyone that you're hiding out here; soon everyone would be coming here to tear down this place for parts."

"Will do." The gorilla picked up a small device and tossed it to the teen. "Overwatch communicator. If you're ever in trouble, let me know and I'll do my best to help."

"I think I'll be fine," he replied, but he pocketed the communicator, just to be safe. "Thanks, Winston."

"See you later," the gorilla waved, smiling as the teen left the room, following the signs towards the exit.

Well that was interesting, Wes thought to himself as he made his way back towards the city. So the rumors about someone living there were part true, and now I have an allay of sorts. He thought back to the worktables, the metal bits and work plans for machines waiting to be built. He definitely would be going back to visit. Feeling a lot happier than he had in a while, he made his way towards the town, not caring that he didn't get any scraps.

And that's it for chapter one! We meet our OC, Wes, and learn that he and Winston are pretty much the same; both smart, both orphans, and both trying to survive in a world that isn't what it used to be. It'll be interesting to watch how their mentor and protege relationship grows.

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!

Quick PSA: PLEASE BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC! Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being sick gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.

-aggiefrogger