Never Too Far (Pharah x Fearful Male Reader)

His Last Mission

(Third Person)

Y/n began to lose feeling in his legs, the false warmth coating them he knew was his own blood. His head peered up to his intimidator, a man who thought that wearing black made him cool and scary. "You're just a scared little man hiding behind a mask." Y/n spat blood onto the floor, his body pushing itself to keep consciousness. "We'll see how you hold up tomorrow... who knows, maybe we'll throw you a party for being here for two years." The man who towered over Y/n was none other than Reaper, or Gabe from when he and Y/n were good friends. Thanks to the organization Overwatch, Y/n had been able to get to know many of the other operatives and soldiers. Unfortunately, his inability to be specifically good at any one thing just made him a normal soldier. But, a damn good one at that. Y/n was prideful about being a good strategist, knowing just who to pair together for training or a field mission. Gabe had taken him out into the field once before, it was so long ago but Y/n could remember that day fondly. It was the day Gabe made him realize about his feelings for one of the operatives. She scared him too death, but Y/n had an irreversible liking to the queen of the skies, Pharah. After the mission, Gabe made it his mission to ruin any chance Y/n had with the justice seeking Egyptian. Though, when Ana found this information, she found it as a freedom that her daughter would finally have someone in her life to care for her.

Needless to say, that was too many years ago, the exact number boggled Y/n as he sat in the cold, dark cell. A silent cry forced a cough from Y/n, his tears hitting the floor with soft pelts as he reminisced the past. He missed his queen, he missed his friends, but most of all he was filled with hatred for dead men like Gabe. Even though Talon was who recruited him, he still had revenge in his heart. "Two years..." he mumbles to himself as Reaper stands in the elevator with one of his more annoying colleagues, a girl who was obsessed with purple. "I say you let me put a bullet in his head." Sombra chuckled to herself, giving a tempting look towards Reaper. "No. For the seven-hundredth and twenty-ninth time, no." Gabe growled at the girl as they ascended to the outpost they were. Y/n rattled the cuffs on his metal chair to keep himself awake. How long had it been since they changed out his cuffs? They had forgotten the last rotation because they just laughed at him when they walked into his cell. He grit his teeth, pulling his arms in separate directions with all of his might. The base of the cuff's smashes against the metal chair, breaking him free. There had been enough fatigue in the metal for his escape to be guaranteed. Though, that still didn't fix the fact that he couldn't feel his legs. Forcing himself to stand, his left hand reached out for a wall while his right was placed on his stomach. "They really know how to torture people..." he chuckled at his weak attempt at a joke, his weak body in an unhealthy state from barely eating. They fed him, enough to keep him alive. His mind rushed to find the memories of Angela fixing lunch for him and Fareeha on their first anniversary as a couple. Fareeha and Angela had always been close, Fareeha simply didn't hang around the larger group of friends. The word echoed in his head, 'friends', people who cared about him and had him deeply caring about them. He remembered the first day Morrison introduced a blind soldier. A kid named David, he couldn't have been any older than Y/n, and he grew up within the group of friends that Fareeha refused to be apart of. Y/n could remember being angry, challenging David to spare in a spout of annoyance. The other soldiers seemed to have taken his side, though Morrison stood behind David and gave him the choice.

In Y/n's eyes, David was stupid for choosing to spar with him in hand-to-hand combat when he was just the new soldier. But Y/n was wrong for challenging him and losing his cool. David wiped the floor with Y/n, a battle of which Fareeha had the privilege of watching. Whatever the bandana was that David wore at all times, either around his eyes or on his neck, Y/n had been told that it was something Winston crafted special for him. Y/n's defeat made him remember that he was just a normal soldier, or even worse just one of the office secretaries. There were multiple strategists that were all in active duty when the time called. Y/n was the backup, the last resort.