Frozen. That's what he was. Paused. Stuck in time. Fixated. Stuck on the sight before him, he found his mouth agape with disbelief.

She. She was there. Right before him. Her, Angela Ziegler.

The Angela Ziegler.

Her hand was pressed firmly against her hip as that stern look marred her angelic features. Her sapphire eyes bore into his soul, burning and chipping away at whatever strength he had left. She was unwrapping him, revealing him. Naked. He was completely naked before her.

"This is the one," Jesse McCree's pistol pressed further into his back.

Tracer's head tilted to the side as she gave the masked man a one over. "Yup," she nodded her head firmly, "he's the one." Zipping forward, she flicked the zipper on his jack before reappearing beside Angela again. The second she was gone, the masked man noticed the weight in his pocket vanished.

Shit.

Lena plopped the canister into Angela's hand. The blonde doctor didn't flinch. She didn't move. She didn't do anything, sans look at that object.

"This is a prototype."

He flinched.

Her eyes pulled up from the canister and flew forward to meet his red tactical visor. She stepped forward, cutting at the space he so desperately wanted to keep between them.

"Did it work?"

He faltered. His shoulder curled forward as his forehead wore a few wrinkles.

"What?" Miss Ziegler stepped back, coy grin in tow. "I presume you've used this." She shook the tube lightly. A liquid sloshed aloud, further tugging up the corners of her lips. "And it looks like you're healed up. So," her finger flicked forward, landing square on his right pec. "Did it work?"

When she was met by silence, her eyes slipped past his to engage Jesse's.

"She's talking to you, 76." The pistol on his spine dug into the leather of the jacket. The more he pressed, the more the man, 76, wanted to smack him. Kid had no respect for his senior. For his former Strike Commander.

"Listen," Angela's words pulled 76's mind back to her. "I'm not mad." How could she be? Ang was hardly mad. Few things set her off. And, if they did, she would let the world know. "I just need to know if this worked. And," her eyes trailed over to Winston, "whether or not you're on our side."

"Your side?" The words more or less escaped his mouth.

"Yes," she took a step back, passing off the half-used canister to Lena. "Our side."

"And just what side is that?" He tried to bluff his way through his.

"Overwatch."

76 stood erect. Did she... but it...

"With the rise of Talon and the fall of peace, we must rise again. Resurrect ourselves from the ashes and fly to new heights. Overwatch is about compassion, peace, strength, justice." She trailed off, likely thinking about the good old days.

"It's corrupt," 76 spat out.

"It was corrupt." Angela's gaze landed back on his red visor. "We've been working hard to ensure only those fit for the rebirth are recruited."

Lena was back at her side. "And it's pretty clear you're not with Talon." She clicked something. A remote. A screen came alive behind them. It played out a scene in a dimlit alleyway. An alleyway where men with glowing tattoos fired illegal weapons at a man with a red tactical visor. At him.

"We have eyes," Angela interrupted. "We know exactly who you are, Soldier 76." Her fingertips brushed lightly against Lena's shoulder, cuing the woman to change the clip. "We've been following you."

Sure enough, another vid displayed his actions. This time he was mowing down a group of Talon thugs. The image jumped to another. It was him pulling fire off the original Overwatch agents-Angela, Lena, McCree. And another. That one displayed the backside of 76 running through landmines to shoot down a plane filled with illegal, stolen goods.

"You're not one of them," Angela's voice now came from his backside. The gun no longer there, pressuring him into behaving.

"Who's to say it isn't a ploy," he dared to ask.

A light, gentle touch sent a shiver down his spine. Her sweet voice whispering softly in his ears caused his body to yearn for her touch one more time. For her lips against his. For her body wrapped endearingly in his arms.

"You don't see to be that kind of man," she stepped forward so that their chests were parallel. "There's honor in your actions. There's compassion in your movements." She turned on her heels, now perpendicular to him. "You steal from us and yet you don't interrupt us. Everything you take, it's in surplus. You never destroy anything either. You use extreme care. Why, you don't even raise a gun to us when we catch you." She gestured over to McCree who was now aiding Winston with something.

"Maybe it was all to get close. To create a false sense of security." 76 tried to find an out. He couldn't stay with these guys. They would bring out his true colors. They would discover his secrets. Reveal that he's not just Soldier 76. That he's Jack Morrison, the poster boy of the original Overwatch. The good friend of Lena, Reinhardt, Winston, Ana, Reyes. The... the...

His visor turned to met her soft, inviting pair of azure orbs.

The lover of Angela Ziegler. The only man allowed to hold her. To kiss her. To love her.

"If you don't wish to stay," her head fell off him. She sighed. "Well, we can't make you."

76 took that opening.

He stepped back. Away. It was time to cut his loses and make a break for it. If he lingered any longer, he knew he would cave. He knew he would give into Angela. He could never not say yes when it came to her. She was his greatest weakness. But she was also his greatest strength.

"But-"

Oh no, here it comes. Just keep walking, Jack. Don't turn. Don't listen.

He stopped. Ears tuned in for whatever she might whisper.

"I wish you would stay."

Fucking, fuck, fuck.

He couldn't control his motions. Legs weak, they bowed inward. Slowly, they circled around, no longer giving her his broad, cold shoulders or that vibrant red 76 stitched into the back of his leather jacket.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, 76 sought out Angela's eyes. There it was, that spark of hope that always called him home. It lit up her pretty baby blues. It gave her eternal youth, the look of an angel.

Smile creeping onto her face, her hands clasped neatly before her waist. Blushing, she blinked back her excitement.

"Does this," her voice was pitchy; she was full of emotions-happy, blissful emotions. "Does this mean you'll stay?"

Shoulders dropping and head falling to the side, 76 sighed. "Yeah." His hand came up to rub the back his neck. Or at least it wanted to. Instead, it found itself wrapped neatly around Angela's form. Pulling her in, voiding all hope of escaping her.

Happy tears rolled down her face as she held him. Welcomed him.

"You won't regret it!" She purred before stepping back, taking all her warmth and love with her. "Promise!"

Being the complete dork he was, 76 blushed (thankfully she couldn't see this). Nervously, he fiddled with his hair before admitting that it was nothing. That she really shouldn't be this excited.

"Nonsense!" Her finger pressed against the cool mask on his face. "This is a big deal."

Lena started laughing. "Oh boy," she shook her head. "Here it comes." Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted playfully, "Best of luck, love" before running away with the others.

In the large, vault-like underground facility, just two stood in the room. The room lined with metal and rocks. The room with a big, open space smack dab in the middle. The room that was once filled with military grade vehicles and ammunition boxes. The room where, 10 plus years ago, he first made love to Angela.

It was right over there.

Undisturbed. Untouched. Their neat little spot. It was wedged between looming boxes stacked a mile high. They were all empty and needing pickup and re-purposing, but no one ever claimed them. Angela, feeling sorry for them, decided it would be a shame if they didn't get put to good use. Jack jokingly mentioned that they could put on a show for said boxes. The minute the words fell from his mouth, he regretted them. But Ang? Oh, she played right into them. Took his hand and ran with her pretty blonde commander to those boxes. They took a few down. Built a makeshift fort. And then, well, brought their bodies together and united their passionate hearts.

Jack always thought it was the start of their relationship. That they were official, official. But Ang was quick to prove him wrong. She called him right out. Said she was mad that he hasn't asked her out. Made a big deal of out it too. Told Reyes, who eventually gave him a nice shiner. Told Ana, who naturally ripped him a new one. Even Tracer had a few colorful words to share with him.

76 squirmed lightly. Trying to hold back all those memories. The memories of him begging Angela for forgiveness. For fucking up. For not knowing that she needed to hear the words. How he bought her sunflowers (her favorite). A stuffed kitten (she always wanted a cat but couldn't due to the job). A pretty bracelet (one that she wore proudly around her wrist for years).

Everything. He tried everything.

A week would pass and Jack would feel like a failure. He would try one last time. Crawling to her, tears rolling down his cheeks. Telling her that he was wrong. That he shouldn't have assumed. That he was a fool in love. That he wasn't thinking. That he was dumb.

And then came the laughter. Her sweet, amused laughter.

"Oh Jack," he remembered her saying while trying to keep the laughs at bay, "you're something else."

She punched him lightly while running a hand through his golden locks. "I'm not mad." She pulled him in closer, kissing his cheek. "I was just teasing. I asked Gabe and Ana to pick on you." She bit her lip while keeping that laugh within. "I didn't know it would get so... well," her finger ran up his chest before stopping on his lips. "You're," she fought to find the right word, "something else."

His face would flood red as her words would eventually start to click. It was all just overplayed. She was being silly, dramatic. She never needed all those flowers. That bracelet. His apologies. She was just playing him. Enjoying him. Drinking in the sweet sight of seeing the golden boy of Overwatch squirm before her very eyes.

Her hands cupped around his cheeks, pulling his lips up and into hers. With sparkles dancing in her bluebell eyes, she would confess she loved him. That she could never hate him. That they were together. Have been together since long before that night.

"You're no angel," Jack fought to keep his voice stern, "you're a devil." The tears still visible in his equally blue eyes.

"Your devil," her fingers traced a heart out on his chest. Then her face twisted up into a coy grin. "Guess you'll have to," she paused, "punish me."

"Something the matter?" Her voice drew him from his memories.

"No," he retorted coldly. It sounded as if he was interrupted.

Her head tilted to the side as her finger tapped lightly against her lips. "Uh-huh." She was always the sharp one. The smart one. She could read any man or woman.

"You've been here before," she commented.

He had hoped the mask would help, but she always knew. Always.

"Old hideout?" She was looking for a reaction. "Or raid base? Or workplace? Or..." She waved her hand at him. "Nevermind." Wrapping her arms around herself, she sighed. She looked oh-so-sad. Was she recalling their past? Their ridiculous romantic adventures?

"...what?" 76 had to know. "Or what?"

She spun around and her eyes fell back on him. "It's nothing. Really." The way she chewed her lip was a dead giveaway that it wasn't nothing.

He remained ever vigilant. Not yielding. Not moving. She would cave. She always did.

"Well," her hand reached up to tuck her fringe behind her ear, "this one time I might have done something a little outside my character."

"You?" He scoffed. "I can't picture it." He needed to stop talking. Stop walking down memory lane. But he had to know.

Angela's leg bashfully rubbed against the back side of her other one. "Yeah," her gaze averted as she blushed. "Right over there." She admitted while staring longingly at those boxes. "My first real love."

Don't trip. Don't fall. Don't move. He had to keep telling himself. But boy did he ever want to run forward, scoop her up, and spin her around. Kiss her right then and there. Screw all the rules, the mask, everything. Find passion with that perfect blonde again and again. That's what he wanted.

But you're on a mission. You have to stay f-

The sound of her tears called him back out. Broken, he stepped forward. His large hands falling on her weeping shoulders. She kept her head buried in her hands, letting out heavy, ragged sobs. She was falling apart and all became of him. Because of him two-fold. For 'dying' and for egging her on. Trying to get her to confess her attraction.

You're still an ass. He told himself. Annoyed that he didn't even think about how this trip down memory lane would impact the now crying blonde.

"Angel," he couldn't control his actions. He just brought her in close. Kept her tight against his chest. There, right there in his arms. He'd protect her. Keep her tears away. Keep her safe. Happy. Smiling. Just like he promised.

Turning into him, her fists fell against his muscular chest. She banged against him a few times, working out all her pent up frustration. Her tears. Her anger. Her loneliness.

Then she pulled away. Forcefully and without warning. She collapsed on herself but recovered, scooting further from the so-called stranger.

Hands holding herself, she tried to smooth things over. Recover. Recollect everything. She was supposed to be calm. A strong shoulder to cry on. And yet, there she was, weeping before a complete stranger.

"I...I should go." She turned curtly. Body fluid, she moved to run. To bolt. To break away from all this. She could get lost in her work. In research.

"Don't." 76 didn't stammer or stutter. His words were clean and clear, entering her ears perfectly.

Ghosts danced through her eyes and her body started to creep backward. Disbelief glazing over her eyes, she turned to stare with pursed lips. Careful, tiny steps eventually brought her out held hand to the material that clung to his jaw.

Fingers curling gingerly around the mask, her wide-eyed gaze tried to look through that sea of red to see if she could find the set of eyes on the other side.

"The way," her voice quivered and cracked. She was tripping over something. "You..."

Hear nails burrowed lightly into the flesh around the mask.

"You..."

The mechanized clicking was followed by a hiss then a moan. The only think that kept his identity hidden was now falling away from his face. Being pulled to the side.

Again, he felt naked. Naked before her all knowing blue eyes.

"Angel." He saw her body shudder. He caught her gasp, moan. He saw her break before become whole again.

Her arms found their natural place around his firm back. Her head nestling in where it was always welcomed-right there by his heart.

Unzipping his jacket, she wormed her way into him. Her head now against that taut, black shirt that kept all his scars hidden. Burrowing and burrowing, she forced her face into the darkness. It swallowed her and she thanked it with tears.

Moisture spreading, 76 laid his hands across her. Keeping her tight, close. Keeping her home, right there in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered while his lips found their mark right at the line between her forehead and hair. "I'm so sorry." He whispered a few more times.

Her nose pressed into the tender spot between his ribs. She pulled her head up, now allowing her chin to rest where her nose once sat.

Large, trembling eyes of blue consumed him. Her fists tugged at the black material of his shirt. She pulled closer but still never said a word.

"I-I," he didn't know what to say. She was breaking him, tearing him right down. But hey, he would rather deal with her sad eyes than her angry eyes. "I couldn't find any sunflowers." He eventually whispered, while tucking back that loose blonde fringe.

She choked before laughing. Rubbing her wet nose against his shirt, she pulled away just enough to smile up at him. Her large, white, perfect smile. It was as bright and warm as the sun. So inviting. So sweet. So... so her.

"A-aren't you mad?" His voice was laced with worry. She had to be mad. He had been lying all these years. Pretending to be dead when he was really there.

She shook her head no, still beaming.

76's brows furrowed. How...? He wondered. She should have been furious. The others would be! But here she was, only smiling... why.

Finally, her lips closed and removed her smile, but the spark of hope still twinkled in her eyes. "Jack," her hand cupped his cheek while her eyes admired his newer battle scars.

"Yes, Angel?" He didn't know why, but he brought his head closer to hers. Their foreheads resting against each other as he enjoyed her company after so many years of missing it.

"I told you."

Confusion washed over him. He quirked a brow. What was she going on about?

"Heroes never die."

His head snapped away and a dull look marred his still handsome features. "Really," he gave her one of his cynical looks. "Really?"

She smacked him lightly. "You always ruined sex. Figured I could ruin your return."

"Me?" His hand sprawled out over his chest. "Ruining sex. From the way you would groan and moan my name I find that hard to believe."

"Oh please," she found herself smiling. The tears no longer visible in her eyes. "You were always, 'I've got you in my sights' every time you went down on me." Her hand curled up under her chin, similar to a scheming cat meme. She was just as devilish as always. Mercy was quite literally the worst name for her as far as 76 was concerned.

"Well yeah," he didn't have a good response. "That was our thing."

She scoffed before shaking her head. Then her fist slammed into his chest, in an enduring kind of way.

His brows furrowed. The now white-haired soldier looked to her face for a hint.

There, twisted off to the side, was a wry smile. And in her eyes, a spark similar to the one he'd seen so many times before.

Still a devil.

"I've got you in my sights." His playful tone fed into the smile that started to curl up the side of his lips. If she wanted to play, he would play.

Without much thought, both of them looked over at their old spot.

Without warning, 76 lunged forward. Scooping Angela up into her arms, he rushed the point.

"Taking the objective?" she inquired blissfully.

"Taking the objective," he cooed right back.