Title: Recall

Characters: Tracer, Winston

Ten minutes after her call, he could already hear the distant noise of rushing wind and the zippy blinks of the chronal accelerator speeding up. Winston barely had enough time to turn around before the figure barrelled into him, arms thrown across in an attempt to envelope him in a hug. Unfortunately her short stature could not measure up to his bulk, but it was the thought that counts.

Stumbling back a little, glasses now askew, he grunts and focuses upon the spry woman, mouth running as fast as she could alter her own time.

"Really, love!" Tracer chided, pulling back to offer her most grumpiest, serious glare. It didn't last long. "It's been God-knows how long and you couldn't even give lil' ol' me a buzz. Honestly, I'm offended! Hurt! Slaughtered!"

She threw herself back, landing on the ground with a thump, sprawled out dramatically. The scientist sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, helping the human back up to her feet.

"I apologize, Tracer." his deep voice rumbled. "Things have been rather.. tense."

He grimaced, knowing that was vague. The fall of Overwatch hit the world and it's members hard, and though he would not claim it dealt the greatest blow to him, secluding himself away from society, pondering and deliberating that recall order was not how he envisioned he would spend his prime. The great gorilla's face fell even further as the ex-pilot shot him with an inquisitive raise of the brow and the cock of her hip that he knew all too well – she would be asking questions, later.

"You don't say. Fell out with the décor, did you?" she instead quipped, gesturing to his messy base of operations. Winston cleared his throat.

"On a lighter note," he wisely chose to move on. "I am glad you have made it here safely. It's only a matter of time before the others arrive."

If, the others arrive, he corrects in his mind.

"It's going to be like the old days, huh?" Tracer comments, hands shoved into her jacket pockets as she walked around the gorilla to gaze almost wistfully around, though her tone carried an undercurrent of sorrowful nostalgia. An agreeable silence fell between the two for a moment, her question remaining in the air as the only sound that answered it was the soft hum of the woman's accelerator.

The thoughts of heroic acts of old sprung into the scientist's mind, from spending time in a think-tank to create innovative designs and technology, to fighting side by side with the very agents he recalled in the field of battle, against any threat – or, as the British woman would say, 'the forces of evil' (followed by a silly grin.)

But that in turn brought about memories of the fall, the great Overwatch tearing itself apart from the inside out. It seemed his companion shared the same thought, her jaw squaring and smile struggling to stay present. Winston broke the silence.

"No." he said, surprising her. "It's going to be better than the old days – hopefully having learnt from our mistakes."

Tracer's grin widened, and she walked up to sling a slim arm around his humongous one.

"That's what I like to hear, love. Now hows about you show me to my old room?"

"I would be delighted to."