#mercy76day3

[begging-for-mercy]

“I got you.” 

[pviane]

Secrets - [Mercy76week 2] - Day 3 Post-Downfall

Jack’s Soldier: 76 persona hid him from the world and allowed him to continue the fight... but could it hide who he was from her?

Whether she figured out if Jack was 76 or not, it really didn’t matter. She felt an attunement to the mysterious vigilante she never expected. I like to think she enjoyed toying with him a little bit...

[0ldsoldiersneverdie]

Day 3: Post Downfall

“I need an extraction!” Angela spoke into her comm unit.

“We’re trying to get to you Mercy, but things are getting heated here. We’re doing our best, but we don’t have an ETA.”

Angela hunkered down, huddled against the wall as she clung to her staff. She remembered Jack teaching her how to shoot, but she was a doctor, she couldn’t take a life. She spent her life saving other people’s lives. Could she take a life?

She stayed silent, waiting for her extraction to come. Footsteps near her wasn’t a guarantee that it was her own party. It could be Talon...Swallowing a little bit, she peeks out, seeing the face of the enemy in front of her. Pulling back, she pulled out her pistol, swallowing hard. She leaned against the wall, pointing the gun at those who entered the alleyway.

They laughed at her though, their machine guns pointed at her. Her hands shook, before she heard gun shots going off and she covered her head to protect herself. Glancing at what was going on, she saw a tall man with white hair plowing his way through the enemies that surrounded him. Something about how he moved looked so familiar to her…

She straightened up and watched him finish dispatching the enemies. He turned on her and advanced until he was close enough. He put his hand out to her, and waited for her to take it. “I’ll bring you back to your extraction point. Stay behind me and I’ll protect you.” He said, his voice distorted and rough.

“How can I trust you?” She asked, gun still shaking but pointed at him.

He hesitated for a bit, before he reached up and pulled his visor off. “Because you know me.”

Her first reaction was to gasp, then her second was to slap him soundly across the face. “HOW DARE YOU!!?! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN??!” She shrieked at him, hurt beyond words were capable of describing. “I MOURNED FOR YOU!!!”

Jack’s face turned to the side when she slapped him. “I deserve that. But you have to understand, it was to protect you. We can’t have the conversation right now, it’s not safe. Please Angela let me get you to safety.”

She seethed, staring at him. “I should shoot you right now.”

“And I would deserve every bullet you put in my body, but right now I need to get you to safety. Please Angela, I don’t know how many more hostiles there are left.” Jack pleaded with her softly.

Angela gave a groan of frustration before she pushed his hands back up to his face to get him to put the visor on. “We’re not done talking about this Jack. I’m so very furious with you right now.” She snarled softly, before she holstered her gun and picked her staff back up. “But I am with you.”  

[abahwrites]

A Trade Between Love and Lie.

FAIR WARNING: HEAVY ANGST-ISH.

Dear, Mercy (or Angela or whoever you are, I didn’t seem to recall)

All life is a mystery. A sentence that I curse so much that it hurts the most of me. I can’t remember how much time I spend on my old days sitting down on my balcony to blankly stare at the sun… To see if seeing the sun could help eradicate my mind from you. From you who takes people’s life, now. Every sunrise I woke and sunset I slept, an imagery of you appears in front of me, begging to set free. Begging for mercy (hence your alias right now). Begging to me that there’s still a way to release you. Someday, but the day hasn't yet come to my plea. Your troops have found their way to my home. To our house. Spreading bullets and blood with no mercy, ruthlessly. I fight them for days and weeks, but it seems impossible and the challenge’s getting harder and harder as I try to grab a foothold in a house where love once bloom, where compassion flourished, and romanticism seems real, not a genre of fiction.

All things come to he who waits. A sentence that I believed for so long that I know it’s just a lie. He who waits never came to me, feeling disbelieved, I crush everything in front of me. Our marriage photo book, your recruit’s skull, and many things that I remember with you in it. This is my last letter, probably. I don’t know what to say any more about our relationship. It’s kinda hard for me to understand what’s going on with your reprobate mind. Alas, if I know about this earlier—maybe I will drive back home and sit on an old bench in my basement, reminiscing everything once we had that now destroyed. To pieces.

Both your eyes wide open, as if a gate welcomes another citizen when cities end and begin with a gate. You always see the shape I’m in right now, every day, every minute, and every year of your life. Now, it’s not what you think anymore. It’s not something you’d like to see in museums, but this shape is something you’ll see on the streets—flown by the wind to nowhere to ended up in nowhere also.

This is not what I choose, whoever you are. This is not what I want, but I had to. You see, we are all just a pile of bones and skins, merged together by He-Who-Waits to be a human being. Your degree in everything is just meaningless. I don’t want to disappoint you, but this is what I learned from a metal song about life, love, and everything in between it.

If loving you’s a crime. Go on find me guilty.

Yours truly,

Jack.

The bloodied letter finally crumpled and burned to ashes as Angela tries to hold her sadness in front of her assault team. Two shotguns covered in blood and a broken pistol laying on the ground, a sign that Jack gave a real hell for Angela’s boys, defending everything he could save, protecting the past that should be forgotten. Without any doubts, she breached the house and destroying everything not worthed remembering. The assault team stays on the first floor while Angela searched for another clue or letter left by her husband around the house, not until Angela found her only daughter, Melissa, tied to a chair in the basement. She is 8 years old.

Angered by what Jack did to their daughter, she cut the rope and immediately hugged the child. “Are you alright, my little Mel?”

Melissa pushed her mother. “Who’s alright? You or me?”

“What... what are you talking about?” Angela asked. “No child talks that way to their mother.”

Melissa angered. “I’m talking about how dad lied to me about your disappearance,” she calmed a little bit and cried. “How could you lie to him when he lied to me, Mother? What happened to you?”

Angela swept away Melissa’s tears. “I’m sorry, little Mel. I couldn’t...”

Melissa angered and cried. “You couldn’t what? Couldn’t trust him enough, so you joined that terrorist group I saw on TV months ago?” She threw a brick to Angela’s right foot but missed. “Don’t you know how many times and money he spent to feed and give me proper utensils for my life? Don’t you realised how hard his life when you lied to him but innocently claiming yourself to be “kidnapped?”

Angela shed a tear. “This is not what it looks like, Melissa...”

Melissa boomed and raised her eyebrows in disbelieve. “What it looks like to you, then? A fucking theatrical?”

“Melissa!” Her mother shouted, she couldn’t believe what her little daughter just said.

Melissa shook her head. “I don’t give any damn to your life, Mother. If he’s alive right now and you took me away from his hands...” her tone deepens. “He knows that the money he spent on you and me weren’t worthed at all.” she sighed.  “I am thoroughly disappointed in you, Mother. I wish dad married a better woman than you, but now... a long dirt nap is what he deserved after eight years living without his beloved widow.” Then, she asked a question about her mother’s sanity, politely. “What happened to you?”

Melissa let out another sigh, shook her head and left the basement. Angela bowed down a little and looked at her hands and asked a question to her sanity. “What happened to me?” as she looked at her hands, the photographs began to haunt her later years... living all alone with something she could cherish for eternity.

First submission for the third day: Post-Downfall.

Introducing... Melissa Ziegler, Jack and Angela’s only daughter!

[mercy76week-blog]

Day 3 of the Mercy76 week, hosted by Xavirne! This one focuses on Mercy and Soldier: 76 after the fall of Overwatch. There's a bit of headcanon going on in this one. If you saw my previous picture,...

Eggheadcobra’s entry for Day 3 - from Deviantart

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