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She came to in a bare concrete room. There was no luxury of wondering what happened or where she was. Reaper stood in a corner, arms crossed, leaning against the wall next to the only door. Fear and adrenaline demanded that she attempt escape, no matter how futile, but the metal cuffs binding her to the steel chair didn't budge. Reaper watched her, no expression in his bone-white mask or in his body language.

Tears pricked at her eyes and when Reaper raised a fist, she flinched. The killer paused before rapping on the metal door beside him twice.

Nothing happened.

Sweat trickled down her back. The minutes stretched on. The adrenaline began to fade and the pain in her wrist was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Reaper never moved, never shifted. Exhaustion began to pull at her eyes. She had been up for nearly twenty hours by the time she got captured, and there was no telling just how long she'd been held captive. Her body was sore and aching and her eyes were becoming so heavy.

Reaper pushed off the wall and stood at attention.

Her heart was beating so loudly, she almost didn't hear the door's handle turn. Reaper might have been tall, but the man who walked through the door was nothing short of massive. For an absurd moment, all Angela could think was Reinhardt would be thrilled to wrestle him. The new man stopped in front of her, so close she could see the fine threading on his clearly bespoke suit.

"Good evening," he said with a conman's smile. "I am Akande Ogundimu and I have an offer for you, Dr. Zeigler."

"I'm hardly in a position to negotiate," she rasped bitterly, eyes darting behind Ogundimu to find Reaper hadn't left. He was still there, hovering by the door, staring.

Ogundimu chuckled deeply. "At the present you are in no position to leave. You very much have the ability to negotiate- and I say there is still a great deal you stand to gain."

She let the lie roll over her. "What do you want?"

"Ah, there's the spirit! It is always much more fun when both parties participate, don't you agree?"

Angela glared at him. It was petty and pointless. Sue her. She was going to die anyway.

"You would rather I make the first offer? A shrewd bargainer! Very well." He folded his hands in front of him. "As you may know, I lead the multinational conglomerate known as Talon. We aspire to grand ideals- an ambition we share if my sources are to be believed."

"Sources?" Who was reporting on her? How could they be skilled enough that Angela's never seen them, but amateurish enough to be so thoroughly wrong? "I don't know what you think you know about me, but I have always been a pacifist. I will never agree with blind violence."

"And yet you've joined Overwatch again, despite its rather violent history."

"Overwatch was reformed to stop you. The moment they achieve that goal, I will no longer need to provide my services."

"They?" Ogundimu tutted. "Not even enough loyalty to consider yourself a part of the team. Consider what you could achieve among like-minded individuals."

"Talon is nothing more than warlords united by the prospect of profit. What commonality do you expect to find in me? What do you even want me to do for you? I know for a fact O'Deorian is on your payroll. Our specialties overlap."

"O'Deorian," he said slowly. "Does not have the latest intel on Overwatch operations."

She froze. He wanted her to betray Overwatch? Images flashed through her mind- Winston grinning, enthusing about his latest project. Jack and Ana sipping tea together on the cliffs. Jamison and Lucio's laughter filling the halls during another of Hana's streams. Jesse awkwardly trying to fold his legs to mimic Zenyatta and Genji's meditation poses. Lena lying unconscious on a rooftop.

Rage overtook her shock. Overwatch was corrupt. Dirty. Violent. A necessary evil. But not the people in it. Not her friends. Her family. What could she have ever done to make Ogandimu's 'source' believe that she would not only join Talon, but betray Overwatch?

Ogundimu seemed to have mistaken her silence for interest. He was still talking, still trying to sell the idea. The anger in her chest seemed to expand and intensify with every word that fell from his lips. How could he think she was considering this?! Could he not see her expression? Did he not care? Or was he simply so high on his own arrogance that nothing that didn't serve to aggrandize his ego was worth noticing?

She was bound and she doubted he would listen to anything but a 'yes', so she communicated her distaste in the most culturally universal gesture she could think of.

It worked. Ogundimu wiped the spit from his face with a disgusted sneer. He wasted no charisma on her as he left, not bothering to continue his 'bargaining' charade. The only words he said were to Reaper, just before he opened the door. "Try not to leave your scraps on the floor this time."

Angela's eyes snapped to Reaper. Leave scraps? She didn't… she didn't think those rumors were true. Reaper pushed off the wall. God she… she knew she was going to die. She knew. Her life was forfeit the moment she was caught on the roof. She thought she was alright with that. It was a risk she accepted when she joined Overwatch the first time. But she never bargained on getting eaten alive.

He was walking towards her now. His cape-like duster swirled around his leather boots, much like the clouds of nanites swirled around his shoulders and hands. Even the shadows in the room seemed to surge and roil unnaturally, reaching greedily towards her.

She was shaking, trembling, practically vibrating within her bonds. It was a struggle to keep her back straight, to face her end bravely as the nightmarish ghoul drifted closer. She almost succeeded, too, until Reaper leaned over her, his hands covering her wrists. But it was too much. She cringed into herself, her screaming wrist barely registering against the overwhelming terror crowding her mind. He was so close to her, his mask filled her entire vision, ghostly white shadowed by his hood.

Reaper lifted his gloved hand, scraping a talon-like finger over her cheek before pausing. "Camera's down," he growled.

Suddenly, he wasn't in front of her anymore. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision of tears. Where did he- Behind her! She couldn't twist in her chair, but she could hear her hairband snap, feel him- running his hand through her hair? Nausea seized her, fear blending with confusion in a toxic concoction.

"Stop whimpering," he commanded. "We don't have much time and your ridiculous hair would break my silhouette."

Was she in shock? Is that why she couldn't seem to process any of what was happening?

"Hey, breathe!" He ordered. Wasn't she? Wasn't she? "Shit, we do not have time for this." He was in front of her again, squatting, eye level. "Breathe with me, Angela." Reaper rasped deeply and she vaguely recognized that he was trying to guide her through this, to help her get oxygen to her brain, but maybe it wouldn't be so damn difficult if he was a human and not a demon about to eat her alive.

Reaper seemed to recognize this too. He was looking down between his feet. That helped. Not looking at a skull-faced death. Then he had to ruin it by looking at her again. He raised his hand and she flinched away, digging her heels into the concrete in a desperate attempt to scoot back a chair soldered to the floor. But he didn't reach for her, he reached for his own mask, slipping it off noiselessly.

"No- No." He said, voice no longer garbled and growling. "Breathe with me." Voice no longer a demon's. "That's it, Angie, you got it." The voice of a dead man. The face of a dead man. Dead. Dead dead dead.

"No, angel cake, I'm not dead. I'm right here." He lifted his hand again and though he hesitated, Angela didn't have the sense to flinch away before he gently cupped her cheek. "You doing better?"

"Gabe?" She choked out.

Gabriel pressed a finger to his lips, half-smirking. "Sh, don't need to let all of Talon know who I really am."

After all of the terror, all the anger, and the absolute horror she'd experienced in only the past few minutes, it really shouldn't have surprised her when she burst into tears. It certainly didn't seem to surprise Gabriel.

"I know, I know, you can call me an asshole later. I'll deserve it. First, I need to get you out of here- yes," He emphasized when she started shaking her head. "You are getting out of here. This place is crawling with people who want to kill you and as I very much want you to live, that means you leave." He looked down at the iron cuffs in consideration before simply wrenching them apart.

He stood and held his hand out to her. "Can you stand?"

Could she? It didn't matter. She had to. She grabbed his hand and used it to pull herself to her unsteady feet. Her legs felt as substantial as marshmallows and she almost stumbled into Gabe.

"Easy there," he steadied her with both hands, looking her up and down with concern. Then his eyes locked with hers. And he smiled. His upturned lips pulled and pushed at the many scars criss crossing his face, some white and faded, some pink and fresh. The hair at his temple was brushed with white and gray. It wasn't the face she'd learned to love ten years ago, but there was no question that is was Gabriel. His eyes, though, those were the same. Warm, brown, filled with affection. Her legs very nearly gave out again. "What? Nothing to say to an old flame?"

What could she say? He was alive! Gabe was alive! He'd.. been alive. Never dead at all. It took her a few times before she could actually speak, opening and closing her mouth, and when her voice finally came out it wasn't much more than a croak. "I am fluent in three languages," she said, wiping some of the tears from her face. "Conversational in two, and none of my vast linguistic knowledge is sufficient to convey just how much I want to hit you with a chair."

They stared at each other for a second, neither quite believing what she chose as her first words to a man she thought long dead. Then he was laughing, pulling her in for a bone-crushing embrace. "God, I've missed you so much," he said.

Damn it, she was blinking back tears again.

He pulled back abruptly. "Angela," he said, a tone of caution or worry in his voice. "There's only one way I can get you out of here. I've never actually tried it before, but theoretically it should work fine. I'm… I'm gonna need you to trust me."

Angela stared. Trust a man who let her believe he was dead for nearly ten years? Trust a man who was apparently fighting on the other team? Who, if the news reports were to be believed, was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people?

"I trust you."

Gabe grinned and pulled her in for another hug. This time, she let herself sink into it, allowing herself to enjoy the surety and safety she's always felt in his arms. Something was odd, though. Her arms were tingling, almost tickling. What's more, the sensation was spreading. She opened her eyes.

"Gabe?" The panic in her voice was evident even to her own ears. A completely justifiable emotion when nanites are crawling over her skin.

"Easy," a disembodied voice said. It was Gabe's voice, obviously, but it wasn't coming from where it was supposed to.

She whipped her head to look at Gabe, but his face wasn't there. His entire head wasn't there. His body was dissolving before her very eyes, the nanites apparently disassembling and moving to her instead, rapidly encasing her limbs.

"Gabe, what's happening?"

"Just trust me," he said, voice somewhere over her stomach now, vibrating strangely. "Need to concentrate."

So she stood there, allowing her arms fall to her side, eyes wide as she watched the black clouds progress over her body. She managed to stay still even as the nanites began to solidify, forming into the shape of Gabriel. In no time, she was wearing his boots, his pants, his cloak, his skin. Then the nanites were crawling up her neck, into her hair, and then her face. Her breath was coming quicker-

"Shh," Gabe soothed. His voice was everywhere now, rumbling through her chest. "Let's just… adjust for a moment."

Watching the nanites roll over her skin made her feel nauseous, so she closed her eyes. It… it wasn't so bad. She could breathe fine, it didn't feel like she was being crushed or squeezed. If anything, it felt like wearing a particularly thick, form-fitting sweater. Right. Just clothes. Not like she was wearing a person as a bodysuit. A bodysuit that… pulsed?

She quieted her breathing, concentrating on the vague sensation. It was barely detectable, not much more than a gentle, feather-light constriction. It was rhythmic, almost like- Angela inhaled sharply as the shock and sheer wonder of feeling Gabe's heartbeat registered.

"Are you okay?" Gabe asked her, concerned.

"Yes, fine." She marveled over his pulse for a few more beats. "So. How many people have been inside you?"

He snorted- and it was really quite strange, the way the sound seemed to echo in her throat. "Cute. Do you wanna try moving?"

"Alright," she said, immediately reaching out with her good arm. There was a moment's resistance before her arm obeyed, but then her arm wasn't covered in nanites anymore. "Is that supposed to happen?" Even as she asked, though, nanites were reforming over her arm, covering it in Gabe's jacket and gloved hands.

"Well you didn't give me a warning!"

"I presume you mean for us to walk out of here like this. I can't very well whisper instructions to you as we walk past the guards."

"Let me try initiating movement." The sensation began at her knee, spreading through her whole leg. It felt much like standing in a river with a strong current, though not strong enough to take her feet out from under her. Curious, Angela looked down while resisting the movement. Gabe's knee was stretched unnaturally, nearly double the width it normally was as he attempted to move their legs in tandem. Experimentally, she relaxed her leg, putting all of her weight on the other, and watched with scientific interest as the nanites guided her leg a step in front of her.

She wondered… "I'm going to try something."

"What-" he grunted as she relaxed all of her muscles, letting him catch her dead weight.

"Can you move us?"

Their right arm stretched out to grab Gabe's mask from where he left it on the floor. Absolutely fascinating. They took a few steps. He reached out with their left arm to push against the steel chair-

"What?" Gabe asked, alarmed. "What happened?"

"Sorry," Angela hissed. "Sprained wrist."

Gabe was quiet for a moment. "We need to get you out." She didn't know whether to feel exasperated or reassured by his stubborn tone. They placed the mask over their face and stepped towards the door.

"And what about you?" She whispered as they carefully opened the door and exited the cell.

"Don't take that obstinate tone with me." He whispered back. It came out as a little more than a quiet growl and Angela could see one of the cell's guards swallow anxiously.

She waited until they were in an empty corridor before she pressed him. "I want an answer."

The silence stretched on. She didn't know where they were going, how much further until their exit. He could simply wait her out. "...I'm staying."

"Why?"

They hooked a left. "I've got a job to do."

"And what about Overwatch? What about Ana and Jack? They're alive, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"...Do they know?"

"Yeah. Pretty sure Jack recognized me immediately. Shooting each other is practically a 'good morning, how are you' for us. Ana was an accident."

They knew and they never told her. They knew. "What about me?" She asked quietly.

Gabriel didn't answer. She tried not to let the hurt wash over her, resisted the temptation to stop walking and let Gabe go on without her- only to realize they had stopped. She blinked, confused. No one else was in the hall with them. Why had he stopped them? That's when she spotted a brief purple ripple at the end of the hall. Then again to their left, the right, then finally right in front of them. The light shimmered strongly before resolving into a woman- the same purple-clad woman who had attacked her earlier that night.

Was it still the same night that they launched the mission? Was it even still night? How long had she been here?

"Sombra," Gabriel growled through the voice modulator.

"Gabrielito!" The woman named Sombra gushed, grinning coquettishly. Angela's eye twitched. "How did it go?" She leaned around him, as if looking for someone. Gabe held them stiffly, not moving an inch. Sombra looked back up into their eyes, seeming crestfallen. "Oh. Did Akande make you…?"

Gabe turned their head away.

"Lo siento mucho."

"I'm getting some air."

"Would you like some company?"

"No… thank you."

Sombra nodded, still looking sympathetic and sorrowful. She flickered purple before disappearing from their sight.

Angela waited for Gabriel to break the silence, not sure if Sombra was truly gone.

"She's gone." Gabriel eventually said. "I can tell you have questions."

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

Gabe snorted. "You had your chance back in the cell. You literally spit in its face. Not gonna lie, that turned me on a little."

She blushed, thankful he couldn't see her face. "Yes, well."

"Come on," he teased her. "Say what you're thinking. I'd love to know what you think of my boss."

She grumbled but finally relented. "I've never seen a bigger asshole in my life, and I've taken a proctology course."

His deep laughter reverberated in her chest, but also in her skull, producing an odd but thoroughly pleasant buzz. Unthinkingly, she tried to cover her face with her hand, only realizing her mistake when she saw her pale hand split from Gabe's. It was just her luck that a Talon guard had turned the corner just in time to see Reaper grow a third, distinctly feminine arm. Even from where they stood, Angela could see the guard's rifle shake in one hand while he made the sign of the cross with the other.

The guard was dead before his body hit the floor. They ran past him, no time to waste now that she had blown their cover. Really, it was Gabe's fault. He could have simply played off her mistake, but violence was always his first answer. This was a problem of his own choosing and she was going to make sure he knew it.

"Gabriel!" It was strange not being out of breath while running. Well, technically, Gabriel was running for the two of them. It felt like an oddly immersive VR game.

"What?" He bit back, clearly annoyed.

"He was harmless!" They turned another corner to entire a hall identical to the one they left. "You didn't need to kill him!"

"He saw you. It's either him dead or you dead. Not a difficult choice."

"Neither of us needed to die he was clearly terrified!"

"Triggers are much easier to pull when you're scared. It's physics."

"Physics?! At best, it's psychology and you know that's hardly substantive-" She cut herself off, the pleasant buzz in her skull signaling his humor. "Oh, fuck you Reyes, you said that on purpose."

"I couldn't help it! You're too easy."

"I'm too easy- on your right!" In one smooth motion, Gabriel pulled his shotgun from its holster and fired into the security bot. It went down in a cascade of bright sparks.

"They've deployed bots," he grumbled. "Great. We better hope Morrison is on time for once in his goddamn life or we're going to be in trouble.

"You're having Jack pick me up?!"

"Sorry, my chauffeur is having her once-a-year vacation."

"He's going to be insufferable about this."

"As opposed to any given moment where he isn't insufferable?"

"Ugh, do you know he refuses to answer to his name? He's going by Soldier 76. Everyone knows it's him, who is he trying to convince?!"

"Prima donnas gonna prima donna."

"Maybe now that you're back he'll stop being such a- oof." They had skidded to a halt and Angela tried to grapple with the forward momentum without moving outside of Gabe's silhouette.

They peeked around the corner to find a contingent of security bots. "We'll go around." Turning, they backtracked to two halls before. "And I'm not 'back', I've still got a job to do."

"Don't be ridiculous, you've murdered one of your own and triggered your security bots. Talon's going to know that you've betrayed them."

"Reaper's known for indiscriminate murders every once in a while, they won't think anything of it. I'm probably just gonna blame this all on Jack anyway. Sombra will touch up the camera feeds for me."

"Sombra? Is she the reason you're staying?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Her and Lacroix. I'm going to get them out and then I'm going to burn Talon to the ground. Easy as that."

"Easy as that? How many years have you been a part of Talon? Healing crystals work faster than you."

"I thought you didn't believe in- oh that's the joke. Ha ha, very funny. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"No, but it was sacked in three."

"That is a gross oversimplification of the socio-political factors that led to Rome's collapse and you know it." He paused. "Dammit, you did know it, you said that on purpose!"

"Too easy," she purred.

They burst through another door and suddenly they were outside. The sky was still dark, but pinks were starting to tinge the horizon. Though there weren't any bodies of water in sight, the smell of salt hung in the predawn air, which meant there must be an ocean or gulf nearby.

There was no sight of Jack.

"Is this where you agreed to meet with him or-" The sound of rotary blades drowned out the rest of her question as an Orca transporter crested the cliff behind them. It hovered next to the roof long enough for Jack to stick his visored face out the door.

Gabe yelled at him over the noise. "You're late, asshole!"

"Where's Zeigler?!" Jack shouted back.

Oh, right, they were still… ah, let's go with 'together'. Taking control of her body for the first time in nearly an hour, she stepped outside Gabe's body. The cold hit her immediately, no longer protected by Gabe's warmth. She winced as it caused goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin.

"C'mon!" Jack urged her.

She stepped forward, then paused, looking back at Gabe.

Removing his mask, he gripped her shoulder with his other hand. "I'll be with you soon."

"You better be."

His lips quirked up and he drew her in, angling for a kiss. She stopped him with a hand on his mouth.

"You come home. Then you get your homecoming kiss."

Behind her fingers, she could feel him grin. He gently pulled her hand from his face and kissed her palm.

"I'll be holding you to that."

"I expect you'll be holding me to much more than that. Preferably against a variety of surfaces."

As soon as he let go of her hand, she wished he hadn't. Why'd she spit in Ogundimu's face? Couldn't she have pretended to be evil for a few weeks? She pretended to be patient every day.

"Stay out of trouble," he called, already replacing his mask.

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more, instead turning and sprinting to the Orca. Jack caught her easily, pulling her through the door before sealing it shut.

"I wish I could say watching a full-grown human emerging from another full-grown human was the strangest thing I've seen in my life," Jack grumbled before moving further into the Orca.

"Angela!" Lena's cry was her only warning before the much smaller woman barrelled into her side. "I was so worried about you!"

Startled and relieved that Lena was alive and well, Angela pat her back with her good arm. "I was worried about you, too, you know." Lena squeezed her tighter and Angela brushed back her hair. Sometimes she forgot how young Lena was. "Who's flying?"

"Oh, me, technically. It's on autopilot right now, of course, but I just wouldn't have felt right if I didn't fly you home. It was my fault Reaper caught you in the first place."

"It was no one's fault, Lena," Angela said soothingly. "It's a risk we all signed up for."

"That's what Ja- er, Soldier, said."

Angela stiffened. "Why don't you go back to the cockpit? I need to speak with Jack and then I'll be right there." Lena tilted her head with a frown, but nodded anyway.

She waited until Lena was out of sight before turning on her heel and advancing on Jack until he had his back to the door.

"You knew he was alive," she said, overly sweet. "You knew he was alive and you didn't tell me, Jack."

His orange visor hid his eyes from her view, but she could easily imagine him avoiding her gaze. "I've told you, I'm not Ja-"

"For the rest of your life," she hissed, lacking the energy to even pretend she gave half a shit about his dramatics. "In your most private moments, know that the only thing preventing me from waterboarding you with your own bio emitters is the knowledge that Winston would be heartbroken if I killed Jack. Morrison. Are we clear?"

"Clear."

She patted the side of his masked face. "Good. Now, let's get back to base. We have a multinational conglomerate to burn down."