A long night's fight

Results

"Your state seems really fine," Mike said as he finished examining Jack. "As for a battle survivor, you know... To be one hundred percent certain I would personally do an extra brain resonance to see if there's any internal damage, but since we don't have the apparatus here and since you're not displaying symptoms... I guess I'll have to leave it for now. Maybe at the base..."

"The base?" Jack regained the attention he'd lost while Mike was speaking.

"Oh, right. They couldn't have told you. We are here temporarily. Not only do we only have one corridor for ourselves, we also have limited time. Then we'll fly to Gibraltar-"

"You mean... Watchpoint Gibraltar?" Jack felt his body temperature rise.

"Yeah, they did some renovation. There's a medical station nearby and they have all the newest equipment. I was there only a few times, but it was so amazing."

Mike was speaking with passion. He seemed fascinated with his job and all things related to it. And he probably wanted to check all the boxes on his notepad.

"Right then," Mike quickly changed the topic. "We'll get you to your room now. You can spend some time with Ana or just lay down, rest and relax."

Jack was beginning to hate these two words. 'Rest and relax'. Despite that he went with Mike. This time he walked on his own. And even though the thought of Watchpoint being reactivated was burning a hole in his brain, he didn't ask any questions. Soon they reached a room. It was very ordinary – a bed, a bedside table, an uncomfortable-looking chair.

"Alright," said Mike as they entered the room. "If you need anything, I'll be around. There's no calling system so unfortunately you'll just have to find me. But I hope it won't be necessary." He smiled widely. "See you, then. Ana is staying just next door." He gestured Jack a goodbye and went out.

Morrison only muffled 'mhm' in response. He was baffled by the thought of returning to the Watchpoint. Which, as Mike suggested, was no longer just a watchpoint. They improved it, made it a whole science station. They... centralized Overwatch? He couldn't quite wrap his head around it. And he was angry because of how much he missed. How did he never stumble upon a mention of the Recall? Or maybe he did, but he ignored it because he was blinded by his own mission? He disliked those thoughts. He should probably go to Ana, he thought.

*

And so he did. He knocked on the door to the next room to his and proceeded to open it.

"Hello," he said, peeking inside.

"Jack!" Ana turned her head towards the door. "Come inside." She gestured Jack to sit on the bed. She was occupying the chair.

Ana's room was like a mirror reflection of Jack's. They were both empty, sterile. Jack didn't like the hospital atmosphere. Maybe it was because of bad memories related to the super-soldiers program? Whatever it was, it made him uncomfortable.

"And?" Ana started. "How did the examination go? What are the results?"

"Just a few bumps and scratches," Jack said in an upbeat tone. "But seriously, Mike said it's a really good state for a battle survivor. You know, I can walk, the damage is only external and the wounds are mostly scars by now so I'm gonna be good as new before you notice." He sounded very happy for the situation he was in. "And it's all thanks to you." He winked at Ana.

"Not all," she commented. She was sensitive at this point. "Your modifications still play a great role in your ability to regenerate. Even with my help, I would have lost you if not those enhancements. But thank you. I'm glad I could save you..." This last thought reminded her of Gabriel. The moment she kicked him. They way she treated him. Mercy's alarming statement.

"Oh, by the way, Jack," she broke herself away form the thoughts. "Your... clothes." She pointed at a pile on the bedside table.

"Oh," was Jack's only reaction. He didn't really think about what he was wearing this whole time. A hospital robe. Someone... had to put it on him, he thought.

He was kind of relieved to see his own clothes again. Jacket, trousers, gloves. His boots were on the floor. He gently picked up his jacket. An iconic design, blue sleeves, big „76" on the back. He lifted it up... and was thrown away. The bottom of the jacket was riddled, the edge blackened.

"Hell, it looks worse than me..." he whispered. Behind the pile he spotted one more thing – his visor. Brutally torn off his face by Reaper. He put the jacket away and picked it up.

"Do you think it will work?" he asked. He knew it wouldn't.

"No, but I think it can be repaired." Ana sounded hopeful. "Overwatch has adopted some bright new individuals. I'm sure there's someone who can work out this technology."

"Hm, yeah," Jack's mind was somewhere else. "They probably have a workshop at Gibraltar."

"Isn't it nice that they're re-establishing Overwatch with new ideas?"

"Nice?"

"Mhm."

"Well... I think it won't be the same Overwatch..."

"Of course it won't. Times have changed, there are new people in command, the world needs different things. But Overwatch will be Overwatch. Right?" She looked at Jack.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Ana put her hand on Jack's arm. They smiled at each other.

They had a whole day to rest and relax.