After a full day of just hugging and crying and flowers, Isabell had been sound asleep for hours. She'd barely had a moment to herself, and now, at three in the morning, was when she finally had a peaceful second to just spend breathing.
Everyone had come in and said hello. Genji had sat next to her and they'd talked for hours. Winston had been overly apologetic and kept making passive-aggressive remarks about Jamie. Angela had just been ridiculously relieved. McCree had ended up challenging her to a shooting competition (which ended in lots of broken vases and Winston losing it with Jesse), Reinhardt had let her take his hammer apart to see how it worked and Mei had not stopped crying the entire time.
But the one person she needed to talk to never showed up.
She knew she wasn't supposed to, but Isabell got up out of bed and opened the curtains, and then the window. She looked out at the sky - the night sky that brought so many questions. It was so clear out here, and she'd never bothered to look.
When you're here next to me, you're like a burning ball of fire that I can't take my eyes off. An explosion like you are my favorite kind - the ones that keep burning and burning until they blind everyone around them.
"But what if I blind you?" she whispered, letting the wind snatch her words away as she trailed her hand along the windowsill.
Outside it was still and calm and peaceful. Isabell cast a glance back at her door, where she knew someone was waiting in case she accidentally died or something.
She carefully removed the drip from her arm and disconnected herself from the heart monitor after fiddling with the mechanics to make sure that it kept beeping steadily. She grabbed the ropes for opening the curtains and used some scissors she found in a craft box (marked with suspiciously dark-with-green-highlights colors) to sever them before tying them together. She tied a few quick knots in them, looped her big rope around her bed and swung it out the window.
She didn't have to - but Isabell had always wanted to do that. And it would keep Reinhardt, who was no doubt sleeping outside her door while supposedly keeping an eye on her, out of trouble.
Ignoring her makeshift rope completely, Isabell crouched in her windowsill and slid down the drainpipe to her right, connected to the wall. She landed softly in the grass and sighed with relief - this was all she needed. Just a little time to figure things out.
A month. An entire month, she'd been in a coma for.
It took less than five minutes to slip into her old room and pull out a loose shirt and shorts.
The cool wind carrying the smell of salt and rainforest tousled her hair as she walked towards the forested part of the island. It was outside the shields, but that was what Isabell wanted - to feel like there were no walls around her.
She remembered panicking when her head went silent. She realized now that the terror she had felt was from the illusion that she was under the influence of a collar again - emptiness in her mind, without thoughts to call her own. It was strange to think that even while deep in her subconscious, she still had fears.
For some reason, she remembered younger Jamie a lot better now. She could see his eyes, his long blonde hair that was forever messy, and even remember his laugh. She would have had to have been at least four, and yet now she could remember this nine- or ten-year-old Jamie better than ever.
She wondered what else had gone on inside her head while she was in a coma. What had happened to finally wake her up.
Isabell couldn't remember most of what had happened - but she did remember coming to a realization.
He knew. He knew from the beginning who I was.
She reached the shields and smiled to herself, placing her hand on it. It pulsed twice, becoming visible, before flickering for a few seconds. Isabell stepped through, and removed her hand. It stabilized and went back to normal.
Isabell took in a deep breath. Here. The untamed rainforest - where she'd lived for three years of her life. Hiding from the rest of the world.
The tang of rain and wet wood hung mustily in the air, accented with the sharp scent of salt water. It smelt like home, it looked like home - the big leafy plants, the ferns, the rich brown of the dirt and the stars glittering through whatever gaps they could find in the trees.
Isabell started walking.
She lifted a hand to her neck and traced a finger along the two thin white scar-lines around her throat. The marks of a collar that would never really leave her. She wondered if the others knew what it had done to her - permanently. Of course it was terrifying to have a friend turn on you and almost kill you, but it was worse...
It was worse being inside your own head, unable to think any of the thoughts you knew you should be. It was worse being mindless and not remembering any of the people in front of you - the people you loved, the people who trusted you. It was worse when you got free and every time you closed your eyes, you saw theirs, how scared they looked - how scared they were of you.
It was worse knowing that you'd been close enough to stroke their hair, been close enough to fold your fingers into theirs, and you had broken their ribs. Smashed their leg. Taken everything away from them - their sister, their family, and their safety.
She barely noticed when she reached the sand and sat down in front of the salty water.
"How could you?" she whispered to herself. "How could you do that to them?"
For that, Isabell had no answers.
I thought you were stronger than this.
"I thought so too," she buried her head in her arms, tucking her knees up to her chest. "I thought I was stronger than this. So much stronger."
And all the time she'd been holding it in, all the time she'd been waiting, all the time she'd been putting on a brave face - all of it melted away.
She'd wanted to cry the second she was out of that collar. She'd wanted to break down because of how scared she was, how sorry she was, how badly she'd hurt them. But she didn't, because they needed to think that she was okay.
Now she could cry and there would be nobody to see her.
So she did.
The waves lapped at her feet, collecting the tears that dripped onto the sand as the tide came in to sweep them away. The stars seemed to turn away as she did, going the slightest bit dimmer, as if it were kinder to look away.
Until a shadow fell over her, and sat down next to her.
He didn't say anything. Didn't ask her what was wrong. Didn't breathe a word.
He just put his arm around her and stayed.
It was well past four when her wracking sobs finally stopped, and he spoke. "Do you want me to apologize for not coming to see you?"
"No," Isabell said, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. He didn't need to apologize. She knew why he'd stayed away.
It would have been hard for him to see her so defenseless, to see her lying there after everything that had happened. It would have killed him to hear her voice and know that it was her - totally, one-hundred-per-cent her - and it would have made him cry. He wouldn't cry in front of the others - he wouldn't cry in front of her.
He was stronger than that.
"Good. I don't have time for that shit when you're sad."
There was a short silence.
"...Do you want a shoulder ride?"
"Never known you to be one to ask before you threw me over your shoulder and bolted like a rabbit." She paused. "...Wait. How can you walk on the sand with your peg-leg?"
"Slowly and painfully," he answered, and even in the darkness, she saw a flash of his smile and it lit a brilliant glow inside her. Never failed to make me laugh.
For just a moment, she thought she saw a little boy with all four limbs, bright golden-brown eyes and long locks of blonde hair.
Then he was gone, and replaced with someone better.
"Do you wanna go back? They'll be looking for you by now."
"They'll live," Isabell sighed, and leaned against Jamie's shoulder. "Do you have something to tell me?"
He paused. "Whatever I did, it had nothing to do with me and was in no way my fault."
Isabell laughed. "Sure. I was talking about the fact that you knew - from the beginning, you knew who I was. You didn't tell me."
There was a long silence filled with only the waves lapping.
"...Did you know it was possible for a ten-year-old to have a crush?"
Isabell grinned. "At that age, it was still 'cooties' and 'girl germs'."
Jamie paused, before saying quietly, "Not with us."
Isabell's heart stopped.
"I missed you every day you were gone. A lot of memories got screwed up after the explosion, but you weren't one of them - when I saw you, all stumbling and without your head screwed on straight, I knew it was you. Kinda changed something in me, you know? Like I was off my rocker before, and then I saw you, and I remembered, and suddenly I could think straight. Longer than normal. Like you'd... kinda cured me, in a way."
"Glad to see I'm such a good influence on you," Isabell smiled softly, and shuffled over, sitting on his lap and leaning against his chest. He leaned his chin on her head, and they look out at the ocean again.
They didn't speak for a long time.
"...There is another way, you know," Isabell said quietly. "I don't have to choose between you and Overwatch."
Jamie went rigid. Obviously this was something he'd known was going to happen eventually - and he was terrified of the answer. His fingers twitched imperceptibly, as if he wanted to ball his hands into fists but was forcing himself not to.
Isabell took in a deep breath.
"I'll come with you," she said, and looked up at him - explosive eyes reflecting the ocean and the stars. "I'll be an Overwatch agent presiding over a criminal. Making sure you don't get into too much trouble. If they need me, they'll call me - but... I'm staying with you."
He just wrapped his arms around her.
And he didn't let go.
"This would be your cue to cry," Isabell reminded him, and he grinned.
"You wish."
For a few moments, they just gazed onto the ocean.
"You're my favorite kind of explosion, Jamie," Isabell told him, and leaned her head back on his shoulder. He rested her head on hers, for once the embers on the tips of his hair extinguished.
She could feel his warm glow of happiness from here.
"Can I braid it?" she asked with a grin.
"No," Jamie said, and it was clear he was trying not to laugh.
"You'll let me eventually."
"Bullshit."
"Come on," she said, and she gave him a smile - the smile that made him smile. The smile that was completely, utterly hers.
For a moment, he stared, terrified.
And she kissed him on the tip of the nose.
He blinked and she raised an eyebrow. "Would she have done that?"
He continued to blink in surprise.
"I'm me," she told him. "I'm not going anywhere. That smile belongs to me - and nobody is ever taking it again, alright?"
His face fell into a smile of his own, and she grinned - scrambling up off his lap and sitting behind him. She let him rest his head on her crossed legs and carefully pried apart the locks of his hair, years of gunpowder and dirt melding the strands together.
"This stays between us," he muttered, and Isabell laughed.
"You never know when I might need to blackmail you a little."
"You better fucking not, Isa--"
"See? There's the Jamie I know and love. Now shut up and let me braid your hair."
He laced his fingers, putting his hands behind his head obediently, and looked out onto the ocean with a mischievous grin on his face. Isabell wondered what schemes he was thinking of planning, what crazy ideas were running around in his head, what new explosives he could devise out of a popped balloon and six paper clips.
As she braided his hair, though she wasn't wearing her suit, the circlet choker around her neck very slowly started to glow.
Not blue.
White.
She tugged her collar up, shaking her head. There would be other times to deal with that. Other times to talk about it.
So she carefully braided back his hair while he gazed out on the ocean.
And they waited for the sun to come up, and their favorite stars to disappear from the sky.