High for This

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You couldn't sleep well after coming back. No matter how many times you've closed your eyes, tried meditating, moving to exhaust yourself- you couldn't. You didn't dare to rest; it would be hypocritical of you to lay down and rest when your mentor hadn't when you hid away with your bullet wound. It left you to simply lay on your back and stare up at your bland ceiling while the pink and orange sun rose up and through your window. It was beautiful, painting the equally bland walls. The only thing that now decorated it was that broken mask of Jack's. The mask seemed to resemble how broken he himself was; it was almost ironic. This made itself known when the red glass stained your wall a deep cherry red.

Rising up, you put on your shoes and made way with the visor in servo. Everyone was already stirring awake, meeting for their morning greetings and socializing while someone decided what to do for breakfast. This was your perfect opportunity to make it known of the predicament. You didnt want to panic anyone, but you needed to do this to get help. Attention- no. Awareness? Yes. The metallic doors slid open before you, allowing you to push through and making a soft stalk to the center of the grand living room. The floor to ceiling windows were drawn open, with that same beautiful morning sun filtering through and tinting your body the same color.

You knew no one was paying attention. So, you gave a loud whistle. It was sharp and high pitched, capturing everyone's attention and allowing them to look at you. A couple look disgruntled, but they didn't say anything except stare. Your skin and outfit was still dirty and torn from your mission; you didn't want to remove that reminder. Not yet.

You raised the mask up into the air, the sun filtering through the red lens and casting a glittering line on the ground. It seemed like everyone started to hold their breaths, looking on with widening gazes and some with horrified looks.

"Jack and I went to Dorado," you begun in a loud voice. It was raw and broken. A tint of rasp filled your tone as you continued on, "On the last day, hours before pick up, Reaper set up an ambush and separated Jack and I. He took Jack, leaving this," you turned the mask up, now having the red line cast over the crowd instead of the ground. "I dont ask for any of you to help me nor to support me; I do ask that if anything, all of you help me get him. He was the back bone of Overwatch. Jack came back even when he didn't want to. Jack came back because he realized the importance of family, and if we ditch him because I was the one that requested for help to get him back, then you all are a bunch of sore excuses for a family."

You stood tall and proud, defying the people who once dared to sneer or mock you for your inabilities to be superhuman. Your chin was tilted up, jaw jaunting and teeth clenched as you stared at them with a harsh gaze. Slowly, Angela stepped forward, with Genji and Hanzo following. Zenyatta followed after his apprentice and his brother, the four seemingly standing out from the crowd.

Silence. It was unbearable silence before the soft clicking of the spurs came from the crowd. Jesse McCree emerged from the group, tilting his broad rimmed cowboy hat back and looking towards you. His eyes shifted about the room, soon turning to address the people he fought side by side with. 

"I aint the person to judge a book by its cover. I worked with a gang I once considered family, I've worked in Blackwatch that I had once considered family, and now I work here with people I do consider family," he took in a soft inhale, lifting a cigar and lighting it up, "And __(Y/N)__ is part of that family. She may not be able to create scientific things, she may not be able to zip and rewind time, and she most certainly may not be able to help medically. She may not be part of the popular kids nor the cool kids, but she certainly shows the same leadership qualities to Jack. __(Y/N)__ rose to the occasion and she rightfully became one of us. I won't deny that. So I'll help her." 

Angela gave the cowboy a gentle nod of her head, soon glancing to the others. They were very hesitant, but they started to pipe up. Maybe not about you, but about your effort to bring them together in an organized way to save Jack. Jack was their leader, and to lose him was a devastating blow to the reorganization of Overwatch. For you to step up to the plate as a leader and get this momentum to get him back, was exactly what Jack would have done to save you. 

You turned the visor towards the group and soon brought it down to gently cradle it to your chest. Your body bent forward at your hips, and you gave a deep bow. Your eyes closed, tears swelling up and now trailing along your lashes and dripping onto the metallic ground below. He would be proud of all of you, you thought to the group. 




Moira stepped outside of her laboratory door, closing it behind her. The soft steps of her shoes alerted the foot men that she was coming, and they immediately stood at attention. Her work was complete and successful. Jack Morrison was now awake and functioning and- very much alive. She hurriedly walked down the corridor and turned a sharp right, following a long and cold hallway. 

It was dimly lit, with dark colors and barely anything to accent it. She gave a half skip forward, jumping up very slightly and her whole body disappeared outwards in a faded of black and purple smoke. She reappeared several feet ahead of where she had just transferred herself from, and merely turned to the left and emerged into the room of their feared leader.

Reaper was hunched over his desk, his broad back to his scientist and gloved hands clenching into fists when she showed herself in. The long white mask was set on the desk, seemingly forgotten in the moment of his work. A snarl was escaping his vocals, startling his off-guard scientist then. 

Moira very rarely saw the mask set to the side. Whatever was happening, she didnt want to see that face of his.

"I've requested you knock whenever you come to me Moira," he hissed out in annoyance. "I'll let this slide since everyone did a great job of doing their work. Now what is it?"

Moira turned her gaze to the side, nervous for a brief moment. Soon, her cognac gaze returned to his hooded back. "He's awake and alive."

Reaper stiffened in his seat, everything halting before he grabbed his mask and it was concealing his face. He rose up, coat calling over his body and now cloaking his figure as he looked at Moira. "Lets get him up and running."

"With pleasure."

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