bakerstreet | ( picture prompt meme )

[ The tension in her body lingers but she lets out a soft sigh of relief. ]

Very good. It means the connection to the main power is intact. Won't have to figure out how to rewire the system.

[ Which would take time they don't have. Even now, Lena can feel the tug of time-- it's like a soft whisper of wind against her skin. She goes a little pale but her voice stays steady. ]

Alright, is the casing around the core damaged?

[He lets out a breath, because yeah, trying to rewire a system he barely understands is the last thing he wants to do. Still, his hands are steady, searching the device for ways to safely dismantle it without touching the core, like she warned him.]

Looks that way.

[76 moves the wire aside, frowning at the obvious cracks in the casing. He knows Lena well enough to recognize when she's swallowing down her anxiety.]

Can I take it off?

[ Well, her good luck couldn't hold out that long. Both of them will be out of luck once the arms dealers find them. And they're getting closer. ]

Yeah. Don't worry if the casing falls apart-- 's not important.

[ The Accelerator is starting to dim and flicker more frequently. Time is no longer a whisper of wind but instead the tug of the tide. ]

[That's all he really needs to know for this step--he's quick to rid the accelerator of its casing, more-or-less dumping it to the side now that she's affirmed it's not important.

It doesn't mean the situation is any less dire. 76 is keeping an ear out for anyone who might be approaching, but he can only multi-task so much. He likes to think he shines under pressure, though, and he hasn't given up yet, even if the flickering is ominous.]

You with me, Tracer?

[She's nervous, he can tell, not that he thinks she doesn't have a right to be. Now, however, they can't afford any lost seconds.]

We're gonna fix this.

[ Lena isn't the type to give up, but she feels her own fear threatening to overtake her. 76's voice and his steadiness keep it at bay. She grips her pistols tighter, ready to fight if they're found. The idea of being a burden is unacceptable to her. ]

If… if this doesn't work, don't stay behind for me, okay? Bein' stuck in time isn't the same as bein' dead.

[ But if they can't bring her back again, it will be worse. ]

I ain't leaving you behind.

[He says that with a surprising amount of conviction for someone who is theoretically supposed to have no real connection to Overwatch or the people in it. Despite how much he tries to distance himself from the late Jack Morrison, he's not going to abandon a teammate, even if she's in danger of slipping away.

Or however the heck that works. He's stubborn--always has been, and he won't throw in the towel just yet, even as he knows they're running out of time.]

Tell me what's next.

Edited 2016-11-03 17:11 (UTC)

[ Lena lets out something like a laugh's second cousin: a twitch of her lips, a soft huff. It could be that he knows that any cooperation with Overwatch is over if he leaves her behind. Or maybe he thinks he needs her backup to get out. But the conviction with which he says it suggests that it's more personal. ]

Careful, love, I'm startin' to think you like me.

[ But the laugh and his assurance pushes her anxiety back a little. Lena focuses, pulling up a mental image of the Accelerator. ]

There are two latches on each side of the core. Release 'em and pull off the cover. There are three blue wires underneath. They all still in one piece?

I told Winston I'd bring you back safe.

[Which says something, he thinks, seeing as nobody in the recalled Overwatch really has much reason to trust him. Either way, it's a promise he intends to keep, even as his eyebrows pinch together right at the top of his visor. His hands feel far too large for this kind of delicate work, but he reminds himself as he releases the latches that they're out of options.]

I got two intact.

[He imagines that isn't good news.]

You're more loyal than I thought you'd be.

[ She'll have to tell Winston when she gets back, she thinks. He'd be touched by the sentiment.

But that means she has to get back.

The arms dealers are getting close enough that she can make out their rapid-fire Portuguese. She doesn't speak Portuguese but, from the tone of their voices, they're pissed off. Impatient. Ready to shoot on sight. Between that and 76's news, her chances of getting back just dropped.

She presses her lips in a thin line, trying to ignore the ever-insistent pull of time. Focus. ]

Better than none. Best we can do with this kind of damage is stabilize it enough for a few hours.

[ From the tone of her voice, she was hoping it'd be longer. ]

Right, so disconnect the damaged wire if it's not cut already. Might damage the system when we switch over power otherwise.

[All he really has to offer to that is a grunt, because she has no idea. He’s hoping that it won’t come out, though he knows that desperate situations like this one have a habit of going downhill real fast. What he needs to do right now is focus, worming his fingers into the core (taking care not to touch the core itself), finding where the wire connects and unhooking it as gingerly as possible.

The instant it’s out, however, he hears more gunfire that’s far too close for comfort. He spares a glance over their cover, and decides that they’re more than likely have to go. 76 might laugh, if the circumstances weren’t so dire.]

Out of time, kiddo. Arms around my neck, come on.

[They might be out of time, but he still has his own speed on his side, and his new plan is to just carry her the heck out of here. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, they’ll be able to relocate before the accelerator shuts down.]

[ To her credit, she only pauses for a moment. If someone had told her two hours ago that Soldier: 76 would be giving her what amounts to a piggyback ride, she'd have laughed. If the situation weren't so dire, she would burst out laughing right now. Instead, her incredulity shows on her face for only a moment before she does as he says. She keeps one hand free, though, to return fire if she has to. ]

Got your six.

[Lifting Tracer is effortless thanks to his enhanced strength—all she has to do is hold tight around his neck as he peeks out from behind their cover and stands, pushing himself into a sprint with his gun raised. It’s not his ideal situation, of course, not when they’re only half-finished fixing the accelerator, but he holds out the hope that they’ve done enough, and that making an escape won’t jostle the delicate parts further.]

Keep an eye out.

[Because he’s going to concentrate on extricating them from this facility. The instant he makes himself known, there’s a shout in some other language, and he feels gunfire pinging off concrete as he rounds a corner.]

Don’t let go.

Don't plan to, love.

[ She holds on a little tighter than she needs to, as if it can keep the insistent tugging of time from pulling her away. Lena doesn't know how much longer she has, but she's more focused on the pressing matter of trying not to get shot. She returns fire as 76 runs, hoping to force them to duck into cover. She trusts him to keep an eye out ahead as she watches the patterns of their assailants. ]

One's tryin' to flank on the left.

I see them.

[In his periphery. The visor locks on, but he’s going to let Lena be the one to shoot for the time being, simply because he’s going to have to turn in order to raise his rifle and shoot. All he can really do is hope that she’s holding on tight enough, because his hands are quite literally full.

A flanker, however, is something he’s going to have to deal with, and he pivots, trying not to lose too much forward momentum as he unleashes a trio of rockets. Perhaps it’s risky, using them so soon when he’ll have to wait for the cooldown, but this is the kind of situation where he needs to unleash as much chaos as possible.

The missiles find their mark and erupt into a plume of smoke and flame, which he uses as distraction to push forward, breaking into a dead sprint towards where he knows is the exit.]

[ The dealers shout as Lena's bullets hit their mark. It thins out the crowd a little-- the others have either taken cover or are nursing their wounds. Once 76 takes out the flanker, they should be home free.

But there is a moment-- a very brief moment-- where Lena blurs around the edges and becomes light as air on 76's back. When she's solid again, her grip on him is practically a vice grip and her shots become erratic. Fortunately, they don't need to hit their mark to cause chaos.

Her composure is rapidly dwindling. She's clearly panicking now. ]

I'm running out of time!

[76 remembers it visibly—daily visits to the containment chamber meant to stabilize her, unable to properly communicate with the young pilot, having to ask Winston about progress. Overwatch’s influence had already been waning at that point, and he remembers telling himself that he wasn’t going to lose Oxton. Wouldn’t add her to the growing list of mission failures that plagued them.

That, however, was an entire lifetime ago, and it’s not going to save her now. The feeling of her all but vanishing and reappearing very nearly throws him off balance, but he pushes through, tightening his grip on her as if it’s going to help her stay solid.]

Concentrate, Lena. Focus on my voice.

[Dropping her first name is dangerous, to say nothing of the familiar tone he takes automatically in situations like this—stable, commanding. Meant to reassure and rally desperate agents, even when the situation is dire. There’s no point in shooting now anyway, not when they’re almost out of here.]

I’m not going to let you go.

[ It's been a lifetime since she's heard that voice. It's the same calming, confident voice she heard in her earpiece when things had gone pear-shaped. It walked her through hostage situations and encouraged her when she was alone behind enemy lines for the first time.

It was the voice of the man standing on the other side of the glass. Lena had thought that he looked too tired for someone his age, too weighed down. He seemed to take her condition as a personal failure, so she tried to smile for him when he visited. 'It's not your fault,' she tried to say, but all that came out were indecipherable sounds that didn't even resemble words. When she got to know him later, she realized that it wouldn't have made a difference if he'd been able to understand her or not.

Lena hears a dead man's voice as she stares down her biggest fear and it's exactly what she needs. She holds tightly to that voice, to the smell of pulse munitions and leather, to the sounds of men yelling in the distance, to the feel of wind against her face.

Quietly: ] I'm here, sir.

Good. Stay focused. We’re almost there.

[76 has no idea if telling her to concentrate actually does anything in the face of literally being displaced in time, but it’s the only thing he has right now. It vaguely occurs to him that she’ll put two and two together simply based on familiarity, but he’s willing to sacrifice his cover if it means they avoid outright disaster.

He promised Winston, after all.

Enhanced speed means that he outpaces their pursuers, and though they aren’t entirely in the clear, 76 grows increasingly confident that they’ve bought themselves some more time, especially when he kicks in the door to the exit. They can’t afford to put too much distance between them and the complex, but he tries to give them as much as they can, clearing the perimeter and ducking behind the first hiding place that he can find.

He’ll set her and his rifle down gently, re-assuming the position they had to abandon when they were nearly overtaken. The delicate mechanism sparks and flickers, but it’s still glowing. He just needs a few more minutes.]

This connection, right?

[ Now that she's heard it, she can't un-hear Jack's voice. Maybe it's a hallucination. Maybe Jack Morrison isn't as dead as they thought. But there isn't time to parse through any of that now. She focuses on the solid concrete wall against her back, the packed dirt she's sitting on. Lena blurs around the edges again, but she doesn't vanish this time. ]

-es. [ Her voice is briefly distorted but, fortunately, she quickly becomes solid again. ]

You’re gonna be okay.

[Talking seems to be helping, loath as he is to offer empty encouragement. He has no idea what she’s possibly thinking—about him, about the situation—but they have a moment to breathe, now, so he’s going to get this taken care of to the best of his ability.

Too-big hands fumble with far too delicate pieces, but he twists the right wire back into the right place and the accelerator glows brightly, starting to hum. It’s a temporary stop-gap, but it will have to do until they get home safe.

And he thinks he’s confident, now, that he’ll be able to get them home safe.]

Is that it?

[ She watches him work, her heart in her throat and time surging around her like a rip current. She has seconds before she's completely unmade, bodiless and voiceless and stranded.

But if this is who she thinks it is, she has a chance. Hope.

The Accelerator hums to life again and Lena finds she can breathe for the first time in fifteen minutes. She slumps forward, resting her forehead on her knee as she takes deep, shaky breaths. She nods, though her reaction should be enough of an answer.

There's a ghost of a smile on her face now. ]

You kept your promise.

[He holds his breath until she leans forward and relaxes, the signal that she's okay. It's a more overwhelming feeling than he accounted for, and he's all at once exhausted, the only thing preventing him from slumping into her his own measure of self-control.]

It was the least I could do.

[Jack Morrison in life did not have a very good track record for keeping promises. He takes a moment to breathe and really look at her--if there was one thing he did right, it was pave the way for a new generation of heroes. Fresh talent who won't make the same mistakes he did.]

Lena.

[She has to have guessed--he catches that smile on her face, and even if she hadn't managed it, the way she'd said sir is indication enough. He won't outright confirm anything, but he imagines the implication is clear.]

Don't tell the others.

[ She looks up at him. Her body is limp with exhaustion now that the adrenaline has worn off. But her eyes make her look even more tired, older than she ever looks. Lena looks at him and tries to see more of Jack Morrison behind 76's mask.

When he asks her not to tell, she looks disappointed but not surprised. ]

Why not?

[ 'Why would you hide from us?' ]

[It's a completely unfair request, and entirely selfish at that. He can justify himself all that he likes, but having to stare down the human cost of his actions gives him second thoughts. He has to steel himself before he speaks again--remind himself of why he's doing this in the first place.]

It's not safe.

[There are already conspiracy theories floating around that connect Soldier: 76 to the late Jack Morrison. He considers himself lucky that they haven't gained much traction, but the risk is still there. If he shows up alive, there are too many who will stop at nothing to take him out and drag all his people down with him. He will not let anyone use his people to get to him--they're the best in the world, and he's already failed them once.

It's not going to happen again. Even his involvement in the recalled Overwatch comes from a place of not wanting them to make the same mistakes he did. How can they possibly rebuild whey they don't even know what happened to their organization in the first place?

He wants to reach out to her, offer some modicum of comfort, especially after all that, but 76 thinks perhaps he's forgotten how.]

I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You know that.

[ Lena is still in shock, but the beginnings of hurt are creeping through. He's been right there, trying to protect them while lying to their faces.

How long had she mourned? How many times did she catch herself looking toward where the Swiss HQ had once been? How often had she stood in front of an empty grave until the cold wind bit at her skin and daylight faded away? The remains of Overwatch had been dragged into an inquiry, their names and the names of the dead dragged through the mud. He'd watched the world turn on them and yet stayed away. He'd left them leaderless, with nothing but memories and an empty grave.

It hurts. But underneath it all-- the sadness, the anger, the betrayal-- she feels a strange sort of happiness. He's still alive. He's okay.

But he wants her to maintain the lie. It tears her loyalty in two. ]

We can keep a secret. How would knowing put us in danger?

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