Archive of Our Own ^beta

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There was something about her, something that despite the anger and hatred that pulled at him when he thought of her, that kept him coming back. It was why even now, after countless battles and everything that lay between them, he found himself creeping under her door, the thick, rolling smoke of him sliding along undetected in the Overwatch safe-house.

It wasn’t the first time, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. She wasn’t even surprised to see him anymore, didn’t bat an eye as he reformed in front of her. She simply smiled softly, that same look in her eyes that he hated to admit tugged at him a little too sharply. It was a look she had stopped trying to hide some time ago, filled with all the regret and affection she always seemed to contain around him.

Back, before he was Reaper, when he was just Gabe, they might have had a chance at more than this. More than just dark nights like these when they were both too tired to fight. More than stolen moments that neither of them would acknowledge in the daylight.

Reaper tried to push those thoughts out of his mind though, focused on Mercy and the feeling of her as he pressed her small frame into the bed, her legs crossing behind him to keep him in place.

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“Sit still.”

Hanna huffed, glaring over at Soldier 76. It was pretty difficult to look tough with a sprained ankle and broken wrist, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her.

“I just want to get my laptop. My room isn’t even that far,” she argued. Hanna tried not to shrink away as he turned his hard gaze in her direction.

“You wouldn’t be here if you had just stuck to the plan. We told you those self-destructs were going to wind up hurting you one day. You’re just lucky it’s only minor damage.”

She scoffed. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one relegated to and uncomfortable bed in the infirmary.

“Besides, you know what Angela said. No stress.” He moved over to her window, checking that it were secure, as if she might seriously consider climbing out in order to escape to her own room. Which…. wasn’t that bad of an idea, really. That would be quite a feat what with her injuries though, she realized.

“And,” he continued, turning back to her, “we all know how worked up you get playing those games.” He said games in the same way one might say kicking puppies or beating up old people.

“But my fans-”

“Can wait,” he interrupted. “I’m sure they all have other things to do with their time.”

“Well what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

76 moved over to a bag near the door, reaching inside and grabbing something-a book she realized- and handing it to her.

“Figured it might be some help in the battlefield. You’re too careless Hanna. If you got hurt-”

He paused, as if he was uncertain whether to continue. After a beat he just shook his head, muttering, “You have to be more careful. For all of our sakes.”

She watched him leave, the door closing behind him with a thump. Hanna sighed heavily.

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t trying to be careful. She was just usually more concerned with winning. She knew this wasn’t a game, Sargent hard-ass reminded her of that more than enough, but it was still hard to shake the feeling of game-over if they lost out on territory or equipment.

Hanna turned over the book in her hands, rolling her eyes when she saw the title.

The Art of War was emblazoned across the front, with an angry looking man glaring at her, much in the same way that a certain soldier she knew did.

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“Oh come on, Snowflake, don’t be like that.” Junkrat said, voice lower than a shout for once.

“I can’t help it. I failed.” Mei couldn’t help but feel another rush of shame wash over her. Failure was the one thing she couldn’t accept from herself, the one thing that was sure to haunt her, despite any victories she might have had.

“And?” Junkrat prompted. “I fail all the bloody time, don’t see me givin’ up do ya?”

Mei frowned. It was different for him, she wanted to say. He was chaotic and unpredictable, where she always had a carefully ordered plan. Chaos sometimes failed, that was what made it, well, chaotic at it’s very core. But her plans? She should have accounted for everything, should have checked more, thought harder, anything to have stopped the very thing she feared most.

She couldn’t say any of that though, it was too cluttered, to easy to take as a insult. And while she and Junkrat may have had their differences in the past, he had more than shown his trustworthiness by helping her unnecessarily in battle. So instead, she settled for an unconvincing nod. She pulled her glasses off, pretending to clean them in order to avoid looking at the Junker.

“I’m being bloody serious here. And besides, you saved those bunnies like you wanted didn’t ya?”

“Hares. Arctic hares, actually,” she corrected. It was true, she had saved a colony of the cute creatures from nearly being killed in the battle. A few well place ice walls had sufficiently diverted them, driving them away from all of the carnage.

“Well there ya go,” he sounded triumphant, as if getting her to feel better about herself was his only mission in life. “You know,” he paused a moment, long enough that Mei pushed her glasses back onto her face, wondering why he had stopped. Junkrat was never at a loss for words, something Tracer always joked about.

She met his eyes, an unnatural shade of gold she had always found fascinating, only to realize she was staring at her intently. He slowly reached a soot-blackened hand out, pushing a strand of hair away from her face with a gentleness that surprised her. Mei froze, uncertain what to do with this sudden contact, and the strange fluttery sensation in her chest.

“You kinda remind me of those little things. You’re too adorable for words, ya know that?”

Mei felt her face heat up, more than enough to felt ice, she was certain. Luckily she stopped short of fainting, instead stuttering out a reply of some sort before becoming very interested in finishing her research on those hares. Excusing herself quickly she headed to her lab, trying not to think of those golden eyes or the way her heart sped up when they were trained on her.

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As much as Hanna loves multi-player games,as much fun as she has kicking random players asses, there’s something to be said for nights like this. When it’s just her and Mei, curled up and co-oping an old rpg together.

Hanna always has trouble keeping her focus on the game on these nights, her eyes constantly being drawn to Mei. She seems like she’s nearly being swallowed up by her huge sweater, the sleeves of it pushed up enough so that Hanna can see her pressing buttons rapidly on the worn controller. A small frown tugs at Mei’s cute lips as she seemingly assesses the problem on-screen.

Hanna almost can’t help but lean over and kiss those lips; they look like they’d be so soft and sweet. She can imagine Mei’s reaction as well, the dark blush that would form over her cheeks and the surprise in her eyes.

But she doesn’t lean over, doesn’t even scoot closer as she wishes she could. Instead she drags her attention to the screen and forces herself to focus on the game, 76’s warning about the dangers of romance between team-mates echoing in her head.