Flirting on the Battlefield (WidowReaper story)

A Chilling Dream

"Why did you kill him?"

It was a question that she hadn't expected, especially from him.

Akande sat across a table from Widowmaker, hands neatly folded atop the surface as he calmly stares her down.

She stares back blankly, her white top glowing underneath the UV rays of the light in the interrogation room; the blood on her glows a soft, yet vivid green. "He was an enemy of Talon. He was eliminated."

Akande smiles, his eyes remaining dead. He watches her face for a few moments before speaking. "Widowmaker, I am aware that your brainwashing has not been perfectly cemented. I am aware that you are still 'Amelie' within. I am also aware, however, that this has not affected your capabilities as an assassin."

She couldn't be sure this wasn't a trap, a way of luring her out of hiding, only to end up back in the chair. She continues staring forward blankly.

Akande chuckles. "Ever since meeting our Blackwatch associates, you have rigorously hunted down target after target. As if... motivated?"

Still, Widowmaker's facade of the perfectly emotionless creature continues, wary of any trickery she may be encountering.

Akande shakes his head, relaxing in his seat, obtaining a more casual demeanor. "I'm sure a sharp eye like yours has already realized that I am responsible for recruiting the Blackwatch members. And I'm sure that you can already see the plan I've set in motion."

Finally,  she speaks, with a slight sarcasm in her tone, "You've been discreet."

"I have no need to be," His voice darkens with the honesty of his words. "I am ambitious. And I know an asset that I may need when I see one. So here, in private, with no cameras, no microphones, I'm going to make you a deal."

Widowmaker raises a brow as her eyes narrow, studying the conniving man in front of her. "What deal?"

He sits up straight again, an air of business surrounding him. "You will undergo Dr. O'Deorain's experiments to slow down your heart rate, as it will only serve to improve your aim and thought in the midst of battle. However..." He pauses, looking her in the eyes thoughtfully. "So long as you maintain yourself... I will not have you undergo any further brainwashing."

Widowmaker laughs, a sort of bittersweet chuckle. "And just why would you do that, Doomfist?"

He wears a smile of confidence as he leans forwards, his voice now low and sweet, "Because I'd rather have an operative that thinks for themselves in the field, than blindly follow orders without nary a thought. You have initiative it seems, with the proper motivation."

He stands, tall and strong, and gives her a knowing look, before walking away. "Stay motivated, and I can guarantee you can keep your precious memories."

As the door shuts behind him, Widowmaker lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. That was a very dangerous man, and she rather liked the idea of being on his side.

She thinks back to the day on the rooftop, and back to Gabriel and Dr. O'Deorain. She didn't have to trust any of them, but to make her own alliances? She just might have a life her own again.

~

She didn't need much sleep, but even Widowmaker needed some rest. Deep in slumber, her dreams were the only times she felt like her old self once more. She would be on the stage in Paris, performing a dance solo to the most tragic of violin pieces, with light piano harmony accenting ever movement she made.

But even her dreams would turn bitter eventually, for there would be Gerard, in a box seat, noting every mistake. The longer his stare bore into her, the more the white feathers of her costume would darken, until they were black with the depression he'd envelope her in.