Overwatch Recall (Angel and White)

AshenAngel

Edgeknight
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. One post per week
  5. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Whenever I can get on.
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, Comedy, Medieval, Romance, Sci-Fi, Modern
Those townsfolk had said that a gang had settled into this little warehouse complex just outside of Santa Fe, and these guys had been causing all sorts of trouble. The kind of trouble that warranted a certain cowboy moseying in and breaking it up.

Of course, nothing was ever really that simple. They’d gotten the drop on him. He was severely outnumbered. If his prosthetic was in anything resembling functional condition, then things would have been over and done with a while ago, but unfortunately it had been damaged at the start of this little skirmish. Every time he tried to move his prosthetic hand he got a nasty little shock that strongly suggested that something wasn’t working the way it should be. It had happened maybe once back when he was in Blackwatch. Everything turned out fine in the end, sure Moira had to patch him up a bit and Torb nearly threw a wrench at him due to how fidgety he’d been while the guy re-wired some things, but everything had been fine. He wasn’t too sure he’d be able to find someone out here in the middle of nowhere to fix up the damn thing.

He popped out from behind the stack of crates he’d taken shelter behind and squeezed off a few more shots, downing three targets. Seven left. “Shit!” He hissed and ducked back behind the crates when they opened fire once again. There was a stinging burn in his side, one of them had hit a soft spot in his armor and the shot had penetrated. It wasn’t bleeding too bad, not right now at least.

His dark brown gaze widened slightly when he heard a lighter flick. The crates he’d been hiding behind exploded with force, sending the cowboy flying into the concrete masonry wall. He slumped there on the floor. Dazed and breathless, McCree stared at nothing for a few seconds. Head, hand, feet, everything in between, it was all still there. Surprisingly. It hurt like a bitch when he took in a deep breath, gaze refocusing.

Five targets, two had been downed from the explosion too. Fortunate. Didn’t have time to think too much. He staggered up onto his feet, moving to more cover, hopefully something that wasn’t highly explosive. He squeezed off his last three shots, forcing the five to head for their own cover. Two had been picked off. Good.

He carefully reloaded his peacekeeper with a single, noticeably shaking hand. “C’mon, adrenaline. Ya ain’t helping me none here.” He growled softly, aware that it was probably masking plenty of problems. With his peacekeeper reloaded, he gave the barrel a spin and peeked out, finding his targets. Another deep breath, he was sure that his ribs were bruised from his impact with the wall. He was starting to get that lightheaded feeling again, definitely not good. His side was probably bleeding a bit more than before. Probably hit his head, too. He’ll deal with it in a minute.

He popped out, fired off two shots, heard two thuds as the bodies hit the floor. A sigh dragged out of him and he holstered his peacekeeper. He ran his hand through his long hair, flinching and pulling it back when he hit a painful damp spot. Blood was on a few of his fingers when he checked, causing a grimace to form on his face.

Where’d his hat go, anyways?

A quick scan of the area, and he found it under some broken crate pieces. He bent down to to pick it up, and his vision nearly whited out as he did so. He decidedly sat down then and there, not wanting to risk taking a bad fall. He put his hat back on his head, exhaustion tainting his features for a brief second as he allowed his eyes to close, another deep breath keeping him grounded. He heard footsteps and his eyes flashed open, squinting when things appeared to be getting a bit fuzzy around the edges. He drew his peacekeeper and aimed in the direction he heard the footsteps approaching from. “Who’s there?” He growled out, sounding as fierce as he could. Maybe he’d scare ‘em off. Hopefully.

@Lady White
 
"I'm not a miracle worker. Well... Not always." Was the words of one Dr. Angela Ziegler, ones she lived by as her work as a doctor, and medic. When Overwatch shut down, she couldn't believe it, but unfortunately had to move on to the service she dedicated her life to, which was helping people with her healing. At least, she thought it was going to be lack-luster in comparison to when she patched up strong soldiers like Reinhardt, Gabriel and Jack.

She spent her time in a hospital in Sante Fe, tending to the wounded and anyone that came in for check ups. She had just finished working on one patient, and watched them get up light as rain. "Wahoo! I feel a thousand times better. Thank you very much, Mercy!" "You're welcome~ But take it easy, it may take a while for your wounds to fully heal." "Wahoo!" And the patient walked out of the room a happy person as another doctor came in. "You always work miracles, Angela. We couldn't be in better shape thanks to you." "A moment to enjoy some piece and quiet, probably just a moment though. Ever since I came here, things seemed to get better and better." "All thanks to you for stopping by. Are you sure you can't stay?" "Work calls, and when there's someone injured, I'm usually there to support." "Well, take care of yourself, and stop by anytime. We were happy to have you, Dr Ziegler." "Thank you. Goodbye~!"

A few moments later after passing by a Warehouse, she overheard gunfire and faint thuds. She thought to herself that it could just be someone's television on high volume, but as she kept walking, they were getting louder and louder. "(Someone's in trouble, or some people. I better go.)" And so she hastened for an entrance into the warehouse, pulling out her lucky pistol and keeping her staff on her in case there were wounded. As she walked into the room, she heard someone's voice. "Who's there?" It said. It was a man's voice, and an angry one at that. She looked around and spotted someone seated in front of her, with some crates behind him. It was then that she recognised the male: Jesse McCree. She put her pistol away and grabbed her staff and planted it against her as she looked towards McCree.

262px-Mercy-portrait.png

"Do you usually greet your friends like that, Jesse?"

 
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Jesse visibly relaxed when he heard a somewhat familiar voice, putting his gun away. "My friends usually aren't late to the party, Doc." He drawled with a faint smile. His hand drifted to the growing red spot on his side, where he tried to put some pressure on the wound. His adrenaline was starting to fade now, things growing more fuzzy by the second and certain pains growing sharper. Conversation keeps the mind sharp. He wasn’t willing to pass out just yet. Passing out with a head injury wasn’t a good idea, and he’d already followed through with too many bad ideas today. “I’d get up an’ give you a proper greeting, but... Not too sure ‘bout the whole movement thing right now.”

His gaze flicked down for a short second, and his smile withered. “I’d really hate to sound like Genji, but, heh, I might require some healing.” He spoke, looking back up at the blonde as everything started to grow dimmer. He was trying his best to fight off the urge to shut his eyes, fully burned out from the firefight and the injuries he sustained.

@Lady White
 
"Hang on, Jesse." Mercy stated as she proceeded to grab her staff and link a yellow beam towards him as he would feel his injuries slowly recovering. "I would of brought proper medical equipment but I had just finished my shift at the nearby hospital, and didn't bring anything. I'll be able to patch you up fully when we get to a hospital." She stated as she continued healing him for a brief period before stopping. "How do you feel? Any better? And while you're at it, would you care to explain what happened here?"

 
Relief flashed across his face as the pain eased off just a bit. “Thanks, Doc. I’ve definitely been better, but, I’ve also been worse.” He slowly got to his feet, clearly a bit unsteady, but it was a workable wobble. “I heard from some townsfolk that a gang had gotten together and were causing some trouble west of here, tracked them back here. Turns out they were moving some Talon weaponry.” He explained with an idle gesture back to the heap of destroyed crates that had blown up in the fight. There were still some untouched ones piled up in the back, enough that would do far too much damage if left in the wrong hands. “Got in a bit over my head, but it’s handled... For now at least.” He tacked on that little bit under his breath.

“Don’t think we got much time before someone shows up here to collect this stuff.” He spoke thoughtfully, his gaze turning back to the blonde woman. “You’re on the new team, right? How quickly do you think we can get someone here to clear out this stuff?” He asked. A hospital trip could wait for right now, he needed to make sure that no one else could get hurt by these weapons.

@Lady White
 
"New team?" Mercy asked, scratching her head a bit. "I retired from Overwatch a long time ago, and just been bouncing from town to town aiding the populace whenever I can. I'm not entirely outfitted for battle anymore, despite having my lucky pistol." She exclaimed as she looked towards the crates and walked towards them. "Talon is still operating? I thought that after Overwatch went down that they'd of retired their acts." She exclaimed as she grabbed one and inspected it for a moment before putting it back down and looking towards McCree. "Sounds like you could use a healer for your efforts, Jesse. If you have need of me, I shall do my best to support you."

 
Jesse looked at the doctor with a hint of surprise in his dark brown eyes. “I heard Winston was getting everyone back together.” He commented quietly, keeping an eye on her as she investigated the crates herself. “I woulda figured you’d be one of the first on board. Someone’s gotta look after them.” He moves to lean against the stack of crates, examining his damaged prosthetic. “Talon’s been lying low. Every now and then, I’ve stumbled across something small, but this is big.”

He fished through his pockets, looking for that little tracker beacon thing that Genji had passed off on him when he’d left Blackwatch. “In case your inner idiot kicks in again.” He remembered that snide little jab clear as day. “No clue if this thing still works, but hopefully Winston will pick up on the signal.” He opened up one of the crates and hid it deep inside before closing it. “I don’t want to drag you into a fight that you ain’t ready for, Angela. Only reason why I ain’t dead right now is sheer luck and a bit of spite. My prosthetic is pretty messed up, don’t have the dexterity needed to use deadeye right now.”

He fished around his pockets one more time, and produced a little black earbud. He pressed a button and watched a little red light flicker on. He placed the communication link in its rightful spot. “Hey Winston, can ya hear me?”

“M-McCree!?” He heard the scramble of papers and other desk items on the other end. “What’s going on? We just picked up a distress beacon with an odd name on it at your location.”

“Listen, I ran into a a large amount of Talon weaponry waiting for transport. I hid the beacon in one of the crates, don’t know if we’ll be able to hold off any retrieval methods Talon takes. They had fourteen hostiles guarding it, I’d imagine there’d be a lot more coming if someone got off a warning.” He stated calmly, keeping his eye on the door.

“Tracer, Reinhardt and Brigitte are on their way, ETA two hours.”

“Alright. I’ll keep you posted if more trouble pops up.”

He turned off his com link after that, sparing a glance at the doctor. “The cavalry will be here in two hours. Tracer, Reinhardt, and some girl named Brigitte. We’ll just have to hold our spot until then.” He relayed the important info with ease. Taking in the brief moment of peace, his gaze traveled to the door and watched it carefully. “So, this is what you’ve been doing with your free time? Poking around warehouses with active gunfire sounding inside?” He drawled with a small smile on his face and a note of humor in his voice. “Figured you would’ve been doing the doctor thing in Europe or something, not hanging around Santa Fe of all places.”

@Lady White
 
"I've been travelling around the world, landing a hand wherever I can in places that require medical attention. It just so happens a lot of my work nowadays involves patching up injuries of police and some militaries. Winston's message might not of reached me due to constant flights and travel." Mercy exclaimed as she checked her phone to indeed see a message from Winston. "There was a message? How come it didn't notify me... Oh, it was a missed call. It must of triggered while I was on an air plane. So Tracer and Reinhardt are back in Overwatch? And Brigitte too? Winston must be serious if everyone's returning... But what could be happening that would warrant us coming back? Overwatch activity was deemed illegal when we shut down..."

Mercy then decided to pull her phone out and contact Winston via the number that was displayed on the missed call. "Winston? It's me, Angelia. My sincere apologies for not receiving your message my friend, they don't allow active phones on flight."

 
“There’s been a lot of bad rising up in the world. You’ve been seeing the tail end of it with all the patients you’ve been treating, I’d reckon.” His gaze flicked down to his prosthetic, noting that the inner parts were worn out and probably close to their last legs even without the damage he’d taken. He had been meaning to go get it fixed up a bit. Something had always come up that made him hurry off somewhere else before he’d gotten the chance. He could already hear the rant that Torb would have for him upon seeing the lack of care.

He spared a glance back at the doctor when she commented about Overwatch activities being illegal. “Sometimes it takes a bit of wrong to make things right. We’re some of the most qualified people to stand up and be the difference.” His mind flicked to his experience with Blackwatch, aware of the less than legal things that he’d done towards the end under the guise of the greater good. He should have left sooner.

As Angela pulled out her phone, his gaze settled back on the door. He was starting to feel a bit restless, something not quite feeling right. He made his way over to the door, peering out with a decent amount of caution. His hand rested on his gun as he took the first watch.

“Dr. Ziegler, I’m certainly glad to hear from you. You’re, uh, it’s showing that your location is just outside of Santa Fe. Are you with McCree?” He sounded cautiously curious. “Are you and him alright? He hadn’t mentioned anything was wrong, but, it didn’t sound like he was his usual self.”
 
"Jesse was involved in a firefight over some Talon Weaponry in a Warehouse just outside Santa Fe. He took a few bad hits but is still able to move around after I used my staff on him. Although I'll need to take him to a more established medical facility in order to better treat his wounds. We'll be waiting for Tracer and Reinhardt to retrieve us. And... It's good to hear from you again, Winston." Then she closed her phone and looked towards McCree. "Hopefully everyone can arrive to pick us up. I'm... not the best when it comes to combat, so I hope you can keep me alive and well until backup arrives." She stated with a smile as she walked over to him.

"If Talon is indeed still spurring up trouble, I'm with you."

@AshenAngel
 
McCree looked back at the doctor with a little smile on his face. “I can’t make any guarantees, Doc, but I’ll try my best.” He stated simply. His gaze traveled out over their surroundings and his smile faded away into a thoughtful frown. There was enough room to put down a plane in the parking lot. Clear sight lines down the road where he’d guess that Talon would come from. There were a couple other warehouses across the street. A rail yard was close by if he remembered right. “Alright, if and when Talon shows up, I want you to hide out across the street there. I can give you some cover fire as you go.” McCree gestured to an alley between two warehouses cast in shade. “We don’t want to get pinned down in here... Wish there was more cover out there.”

He sat down carefully, hoping to keep his exhaustion at bay as they waited. “I started off thinking that it would be an easy day today.” He sighed, a note of humor in his voice. “Guess I made a mistake.”
 
"You always found a way to get yourself into trouble, Jesse. That's what makes you, you." Mercy exclaimed before she snickered towards him. "Besides. What would you expect from a "Local Vigilante" who's been on the news?" She then looked towards her pistol for a moment and then took a seat next to McCree. "I'll do my best, and keep you alive. Hopefully you can do the same when they arrive, It'd be good to see the old group again. So Reinhardt and Tracer have already came back? Who else answered the call, do you know?"

@AshenAngel
 
McCree rolled his eyes, a chuckle sounding from him. “Trouble ain’t exactly a positive character trait Angela.” He stated, a small smile on his face. When conversation drifted back to the new team, he shrugged slightly. “I wouldn’t know.” His gaze flicked down, thoughtful. Maybe he coulda talked some sense into Gabe. Done something to keep things from falling apart. “It was a shocker that I was even contacted. If they’re expecting me to handle the shadier parts of business like we did back in Blackwatch, they’ve got another thing coming...” He explained with a small scowl. He reached for his pack of cigars with his prosthetic hand only to get a small shock from the damaged mechanism. He was really starting to get annoyed by it. “I hope Torbjörn answered the call.”
 
"Didn't have to be a positive trait in order to define who you are, Jesse." Mercy responded with a chuckle of her own as she loaded her pistol. She was expecting company. "We should be able to rely on who we have so far until others answer the call. But there are some people here who are anti-overwatch. I've had people attack me in the streets despite my resignation. So I've unfortunately had combat experience." She exclaimed as she readied herself next to him. "How much longer until they arrive? Something about seeing all these dead and those valuables fills me with fear of a squad coming to take them, by force no less."

@AshenAngel
 
Jesse rolled his eyes at her laugh. “Being defines as trouble ain’t exactly a spirit-raising thing.” He stated with a bit of a smirk, albeit one of his colder ones. “We’ve got about an hour and twenty.” He replied. He reloaded his peacekeeper, a bit more effort than he liked to put in with one hand, and turned his gaze back outside. He could see dust getting kicked up a distance down the road. “Y’know, I heard that people with fears wind up having to face ‘em eventually.” He explained as he stood up. “Look sharp, we’ve got trouble coming in. Stick with the plan.”
 
"I saw it too. I'll follow you, Jesse." Mercy exclaimed as she stood up and prepared to follow him. She clung onto the grip of her mini pistol, with a surprised expression on her face to see it still loaded with a few magazines. She had hoped she wouldn't have to hurt anyone, much less kill either, and if McCree was observant, he could notice it in her stance and movement. "I won't lie, I've been a doctor for a long time. I never thought I'd bring myself to hurt anyone."

@AshenAngel
 
He rolled his eyes when she moved to follow him, having apparently forgotten the plan. Off to a great start. “Doesn’t get any easier with practice, Angela. Aim for center of mass, don’t pop out of cover for too long or leave your important parts exposed.” McCree spoke quietly, counting two trucks coming near. Both were unmarked, from what he could tell.

He took a steadying breath, able to make out the Talon uniform through the tinted glass. He clicked off the safety and opened fire on the first truck, a tractor trailer, once it got within range. The driver slumped forward in the seat, the truck veering off the road before jack-knifing and coming to a screeching stop. The second truck, this one being more of a guard vehicle than anything else judging by the Mad Max armoring, screeched to a halt behind the tractor trailer. “Alright, we’re going to move up to the truck, use it for more cover. Get moving.”

McCree then took the lead, moving out towards the truck and taking great care to provide cover for the doctor as she hopefully moved up. He really didn’t want to get pinned down in the warehouse again. It was safer when he was the one in control of the field.
 
Nodding towards McCree, Mercy followed him slowly, trying to tread lightly. Trying to act stealthy while wearing heels against solid concrete were not a good combination, so she was hoping that she wasn't making any noise from moving. "Um. Wouldn't it be safer to watch the weaponry? Isn't that what they are here for?" She asked, scratching the back of her head. Checking once again to ensure her pistol was loaded, she followed McCree slowly and ensured that she was within his protection range. "Let's hope Reinhardt and Tracer and Brigitte can get here to help us."

@AshenAngel