Chapter Text
Amelie lightly stirred awake before yawning loudly and stretching. A few shafts of sunlight shone through her bedroom window past her thick curtains. She swings her feet onto the floor, flinching as her toes touch the cold stone floor. As she sleepily crosses her room she bumps her foot into her favorite doll sitting on the floor. She reaches down to grab it and smiles at the red haired doll before placing it gingerly back in her bed. Turning back to her door her stomach loudly rumbles. She exits her room to be greeted by her butler.
“Ah good morning young Lady. I was just heading up to wake you. Breakfast is ready.” He says with a bow as he greets the only daughter of the Guillard family.
“Has father come home?” She asks the tall tuxedoed man as he leads her through the old chateau.
“I’m sorry Ms. Amelie, not today. Your mother will be back in soon however." He assures her as he pulls out a chair for her at the dining room table. He sets a plate of croissant in front of her and serves her two fried eggs with runny yolks.
The thought of her mother fills the young girl with dread for a reason she can’t place. She pokes at the yolk of an egg with her fork swirling it around as the pit in her stomach grows. Her butler interrupts her by placing a croissant on her plate. He takes a bite of his own breakfast and slowly chews and swallows it before addressing her.
“Quit playing with your food young lady. Your mother will be displeased if you don’t eat.”
She wants to protest that she isn’t hungry but the threat fills her with fear. She forces egg whites into her mouth, avoiding the liquid yolk on purpose. She takes a small bite of the croissant before turning to face the man.
“Eat your whole breakfast, Amelie.”
With a few grumbles of protest she continues. Halfway through her meal she hears the large front door swing open loudly. She picks up her pace eager to ensure her mother doesn’t discover her refusal to eat. The butler stands to greet the Lady of the house with a deep bow. She gracefully strolls behind Amelie, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders.
“Oh Mr. Moreau, are you joining us for breakfast this morning? How wonderful.” She comments with a calculated warmness in her voice.
“Yes, young Lady Amelie has been reluctant to eat lately and I wanted to ensure she had a full meal this morning.” He responds while preparing a plate of food for Amelie’s mother.
The woman grips Amelie’s hair hard. She fights back a squeal at the sudden sharp pain, knowing that showing emotion will only make it worse. Her head is yanked back to stare at her mother’s face. Her short red hair is tightly and properly combed back. Her mismatched eyes filled with concern and frustration. Amelie breaths in sharply pulling air much colder than she expected into her lungs. She blinks and Doctor O’Deorain is pulling back her hair in Widowmaker’s bedroom. The dusty castle has vanished to be replaced with the sterile room assigned to her in the Talon base she calls home. The same concerned look is still painted across Moira’s face.
“Widowmaker, I was speaking to you.”
Widowmaker catches her breath and relaxes into Moira’s grasp causing the woman to let her go, allowing her to slump back into the chair. “Apologies Mother, I was lost in thought.”
“That’s okay darling. You were telling me about your issues with your appetite, yes?”
“Right. I just haven’t felt much like eating recently.” Widowmaker admits looking away from the doctor who has now circled around to the front of the chair.
“I figured this may happen. I switched your mood suppressants a few days ago, you were concerned that you had built up a tolerance.” Moira explains, carefully studying Widowmaker’s blank face. “Issues with your appetite were an expected side effect.”
Confusion fills Widowmaker’s mind making her head feel light before a wave of apathy fills her brain that brings her a calm sense of relaxation. “I have no recollection of this.”
“Yes… memory issues… are… common in the first week of this new drug. Remember that you wanted this sweetheart.” Moira assures her as Amelie continues to blankly point her eyes at the ground.
“Right, of course.”
Moira makes a note on her clipboard. “I’ll get you started on a meal plan. Even if your body doesn’t want it you need to eat. I’m worried about you dear.”
“Yes Mother. I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“I forgive you.”
“I love you, Mother.”
“Of course, Widowmaker. I’ll be back for another checkup tomorrow.”
Amelie shoots out of bed into a standing position before she can even fully come to her senses. She doubles over onto her knees on the cold hard ground of the Watchpoint as a sharp pain stabs in her gut. Physically she is back to safety but it brings her very little comfort. As she stands she pulls up the sweatpants she slept in, tightening the string around her waist before making her way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for support. On the way she checks her phone for the time and any messages. 5 am. Nothing. She flicks on the light, the harsh whiteness stuns her. A flash of the operating table. She quickly shakes the thought out of her mind and grabs her toothbrush. She splashes the warm tap water onto her face before carefully brushing her teeth. Systematically scrubbing each tooth far longer than necessary. As she nears completion she hears a soft knock on her door.
“Cohing moher!” She shouts with the plastic rod still in her mouth. She quickly rinses her mouth out before rushing to the door and sliding it open as fast as she could. Cassidy stands expectantly outside quickly turning red and covering his eyes as Amelie exposes her bare chest to him. She blurts an apology before slamming the door shut. She puts on a loose shirt and opens the door again. The cowboy greets her once more. She beckons him inside, still blushing deeply.
“Sorry I… don’t really know what I was thinking.” She says to him as he sits heavily in her desk chair.
“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t see much.” He assures her.
“I know that’s not true, but I appreciate the lie.” She responds with a chuckle. “Anyway what’s up?”
“Honestly. I’m feeling a little restless. Our first day under the new commander. Couldn’t stand just waiting around for the morning assembly.” He admits as he takes a paper weight off the desk and tosses it between his hands.
“It’s honestly a little comforting to have a set schedule again. As fun as the freedom of making my own was, it stressed me out a little.” Amelie responds as she opens her phone again to scroll on the social media account Lena convinced her to make, under a fake name of course. She had one new message, she made a mental note to check it later but simply scrolled through the app for the time being.
“That’s a nice perspective I suppose. One that probably isn’t shared by many of our peers.” He comments while swirling the glass object in his left hand.
“I suppose not. How about you though? How does the life of a soldier sound to you, Cowboy?” She asks, eyes still buried in her social media feed.
“Don’t imagine I’ll be living it too long.” He responds as he rolls the paper weight back onto the desk and leans back with a smug look.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“I heard there are two new Captain positions opening up. One to replace Chase and one for a new strike team. I figure Oxton and I are shoo-ins.” He brags, standing up and approaching Amelie’s door. “She wants us in our field gear for the first assembly until we can get official uniforms out to the newer recruits. Get dressed.”
She strips and carefully climbs into the suit Torbjorn designed for her as the man stands facing the door with his hands on his belt. As the two depart to head for the meeting she leans on Cassidy for support, wrapping her arms around his. She wonders what an Overwatch uniform looks like. She thinks hard back to her time before Talon, trying to conjure what Gerard wore during the parades and events he dragged her too.
A bullet cracks into her visor sending the device flying off her face and leaving her ears ringing. She quickly collects herself and levels her scope back at her opponent. Ana Amari has a shocked expression on her face as she realizes the visage of her old friend Amelie Lacroix has been appropriated by her greatest enemy, Widowmaker. The woman is wearing a blue beret and a coat with the same color. She shakes away the artificial feeling of glee the end of the memory leaves her with. Amelie likes blue.
A sea of colors gathers in the basketball court as the crowd of Amelie’s peers wait to be addressed by her new Commander. She stands between Cassidy and Ashe as they both impatiently wait for whatever Chase plans to announce this morning. The woman in question finally enters the room and gives a polite salute to the crowd. When nobody moves she clears her throat prompting the crowd to slowly and sloppily mimic her gesture. She nods in approval before beginning.
“Good morning Overwatch. Thank you all for gathering at my request this morning. I’m sure you have some concerns about the new schedules I sent out last night. I assure you they have only the organization's best interests in mind. I noticed our training to be both lacking and inconsistent throughout the base. I understand that all of you have unique skills and abilities but I still feel a basic level of fitness should be standard for our agents. I will be leaving your training up to your discretion as long as you can pass a monthly physical exam. Regular meal times are also important for maintaining nutrition and health for everyone. I get that you all have gotten used to a certain level of freedom under the previous lax leadership around here, but if you’re going to fight to try and save the world under my direction, I want to ensure you’re capable of pulling your own weight. Thank you for coming, everyone. That was all.”
Murmurs of discussion break out amongst the crowd as they are dismissed from the gym for breakfast.
“It’s honestly remarkable you can stand at all after only one and half days of recovery.” The doctor remarks as he rubs a wand over her bare stomach inspecting her internal organs. “Still some obvious signs of internal trauma but definitely looking better. It said in your file that Doctor Ziegler designed some reinforcing modifications for your organs. I can definitely see the effects of those. She’s truly a genius in her field.”
“Yeah.” She says quietly gazing upon the imaging of her insides. It feels strange to have the monitor pointed towards her instead of away.
“Well if you’re confident you don’t need the wheelchair any more at least let me get you a cane.” he insists pulling her shirt back down to cover her, the image on the monitor vanishing as he removes the device.
“That would be great, Doctor, thank you.”
Amelie leans on her cane as she approaches Dr. Ziegler’s office. She takes a deep breath before pushing her way inside. A shocked expression crosses Angela’s face at the arrival of her guest. Amelie interrupts her before she can speak.
“I want to see my file. You owe it to-”
“Okay Amelie.” She responds quickly.
“Wait… just like that?” Amelie asks, puzzled as she takes a seat across from Angela.
“Of course. It’s your file. You have a right to see it.” She assures Amelie. Her face turns visibly whiter as she pulls up the document on her computer. “Um… there is some information from a long time ago… it might be kind of upsetting to read.”
“I want to see everything.” Amelie responds confidently as Angela spins the monitor and passes her the mouse.
The patient has been rescued from imprisonment in a Talon base. No obvious signs of psychological or physical trauma. Post traumatic stress from her imprisonment is likely but assessments haven’t indicated anything tangible. Vitals have remained stable during her stay. Husband has requested she be returned to their home where he will take care of her. Given her state I have approved his request.
-Dr. Angela Ziegler, Head of Medicine.
“Oh… I didn’t know about this.” Amelie said, turning to look at Angela’s nervous face. “Was this before I..?”
“It was. I’m sorry I didn’t see it Amelie.” Angela responds with her voice wavering.
Amelie takes a deep breath and continues reading.
The patient has been captured by Overwatch. She has sustained injuries not relating to combat. She was heavily modified in the “Widowmaker” program by Talon. Her body was modified in a number of ways that require more research. Current injuries are caused by a “kill switch” implanted by Talon doctors likely intended to eliminate the patient should she become compromised. She is stable but unable to operate without life support.
-Dr. Angela Ziegler, Head of Medicine.
The patient has begun expressing feelings that I believe indicate a break from her programming as a part of the “Widowmaker” program. I am unsure of the origin of this, as is the patient. I will continue to monitor her mood and condition during her stay here. The modifications to her cells were made with my own research, though clearly not to my intended result. I believe I can replace her cells that contain the “kill switch” using the same process in which they were likely modified by Talon.
-Dr. Angela Ziegler, Head of Medicine.
The patient has agreed to the procedure and has requested a complete reversal of the modifications performed by Talon. I believe this is a further indication of a possible shift in personality from the patient. I believe that her desire to distance herself from the “Widowmaker” project is a genuine one and not merely a ruse to gain my trust. I have finished my designs for her new biology. See attached diagrams.
-Dr. Angela Ziegler, Head of Medicine.
Below the entry is a collection of all the various kinds of cells she modified. In addition to a reversal of Moira’s changes she increased the durability of her internal organs as well as upgraded her heart and kidney function. She felt sick as she saw all of the things Angela did without her knowledge.
“Thank you for showing me.” She quietly says as she turns the monitor back to Angela, uninterested in reading the rest.
“Of course. I want to be honest with you. Even if I failed to be in the past.” She responds trying to catch Amelie’s eyes but not having her gaze returned.
Amelie quietly stands and leaves without another word.
Amelie returns to her room. She is grateful to have a medical exemption from exercising, but still eager to find a distraction. She grabs her phone off her nightstand as she rolls into bed, leaving her cane to clatter onto the floor. She once again opens her social media to idly scroll when she remembers her message from before. It’s from an account with no profile picture and a name she doesn’t recognize. She opens it casually before feeling the world disappear out from under her.
“Hello Widowmaker.”
“Who is this? What are you talking about?”
“I see you finally made an account here. A little hurt you didn’t make one when I begged you back then but I suppose your new friend is more persuasive.”
Amelie’s throat runs dry as she realizes who is messaging her.
“Sombra.”
Her message is quickly deleted without her input followed by their entire message history vanishing.
“My name is Isabella Alvarez.”
“Why are you contacting me?”
“Curiosity mostly. You’ve surprised me a lot in recent months."
"I wanted to let you know, I’m happy for you.”
“Don’t contact me any further. I want nothing to do with you.”
“Oh come on don’t do me like that chica. I’m not contacting you for our mutual acquaintance."
"It’s just little old me, trying to be friendly.”
“You don’t do friendly. You do transactions. What do you want?”
“Is it really that hard to believe I want nothing at all but to talk?”
“Yes.”
“Ouch. Point taken."
"Look, I got some work that just came across my desk."
"You ever want to chat, hit me up.”