The Hunter | Overwatch

The Burden of Knowing

Jack sat alone in the dimly lit briefing room, the faint hum of the monitors providing the only sound. The replay of the forest incident was paused on the screen in front of him, the frame frozen on the burst of light that had struck the ground. He rewound it again, scrutinizing the moment, trying to find an answer in the impossible. No natural occurrence looked like that—no Omnic technology, either. His gut told him that whatever had happened wasn’t from this time.

The boy, Shaun Oxton, was at the center of it. Jack could feel it.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Oxton—the name still rolled uneasily in his mind. There was something familiar about it, something he couldn’t quite place. But that would come later. For now, he needed to figure out what to do with the kid.

He'd brought Shaun back to the base after his collapse, put him in a private room to recover. Whatever trauma he’d been through, it was clear the boy was on edge—volatile, even. Jack had witnessed the steam rising from Shaun’s hands with his own eyes. The kid had some kind of power, and that made him valuable. But Jack needed to tread carefully. Shaun didn’t trust him yet, and trust, in these times, was more precious than ever.

With a heavy sigh, Jack stood up, shutting off the monitors. He needed answers. And the only person who could give them to him was the kid himself.

---

Shaun sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They still trembled, faint wisps of steam rising from his palms. What the hell is happening to me? It felt like everything around him was wrong—this time, this place. But worst of all was the hole where Lena used to be. Sleep was out of the question. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Lena—the last time he’d seen her, the way her form had flickered out of existence right in front of him. His sister, gone, and he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it.

His head throbbed, his temples pounding as he tried to suppress the memories. But they came in flashes—her laughter, her warmth, then the cold emptiness that had followed.

Lena... He clenched his jaw, fighting back the tears that welled up unbidden.

A soft knock echoed through the room, startling him. He sat up straight, quickly wiping his face as the door slid open. Jack Morrison stepped in, his presence filling the room. Shaun stiffened, unsure of what to expect.

“Hey, kid,” Jack greeted, his voice calm but edged with something Shaun couldn’t quite place—curiosity, maybe? Or was it concern?

Shaun didn’t respond. He just watched Jack warily as the man took a seat in the chair opposite the bed.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jack leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes scanning Shaun’s face. The silence was heavy, charged with the weight of all the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Finally, Jack broke the silence.

“I know this is all... a lot to take in. But I need to know what happened out there,” he said, his tone gentle, but there was no mistaking the underlying urgency.

Shaun swallowed, his throat dry. What could he even say? He wasn’t sure if Jack would believe him, or if he even believed himself. The light, the machine, Lena’s disappearance—it all felt like some horrible dream. But the look in Jack’s eyes told him that the man wasn’t here to play games. He wanted answers. And maybe, just maybe, he could help.

“I don’t know...” Shaun muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know what happened,” he repeated.

Jack leaned back slightly, nodding as if he expected that answer. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything you remember.”

Shaun hesitated, his mind racing. Could he trust this man? Could he trust anyone? After all that he's done? But there was something about Jack—something solid, like a rock in a storm. Despite everything, Shaun felt like maybe, just maybe, this was someone who could understand. Or at least someone who wanted to.