Chronal Disassociation Ch. 41

When Lena awoke, she was mildly disappointed to see the familiar ceiling of her and Emily's flat. It had already been a few weeks since their time in Rome, and she would still get the jitters whenever she thought about it. Technically, this was the second time today she had woken up - the first time was when Emily had gotten out of bed to go to work.

Lena took the opportunity to sleep in.

A benefit of rising from loosely affiliated pilot to full blow strike team operative that she hadn't taken advantage of until recently was the privilege of being just on call. That is to say, she could lounge around in her home and only come in if they need her.

A decent, if not stingy, benefit when you consider that she was part of a team expected to be the first to risk their lives at the front line.

Not everyone took the opportunity to do so, due to the facilities offered by Overwatch. Free food, training areas, a lounge, and last she heard, they were building a set of permanent barracks. You could theoretically live your entire life inside the London base and want for nothing.

There was still the matter of friends and family though, which was the main reason nobody did it, with a few exceptions. Only verified Overwatch personnel could get the clearance for extended stays, and of all of them, Lena only knew two people who took the offer: Genji and Angela.

The former for far more obvious reasons than the latter.

Angela stayed because she was the head of the medical division, and was the only one with real experience with her tech to operate it. The pilot had been on the receiving end of the doctor's despair on how the people she was trying to teach just didn't get it.

Lena had stayed quiet with how she was in the same boat as them.

Stretching one last time, Lena groaned in satisfaction, before reaching over to the side and making sure the chronal accelerator was still there.

After the scare with Archer previously, she had been religious in making sure the accelerator was always near her. It nearly bordered on obsession, enough that even Emily had noticed. Thankfully, her wife had not pressed the issue, and had only expressed her confusion.

There was a moment of panic when her hand only grasped at the edge of her nightstand. Her heart leapt to her throat, before her gaze finally landed on the accelerator - only slightly beyond her reach, likely pushed slightly away by Emily when she herself had woken up.

With slightly shaking hands, she breathed a sigh of relief. She took the accelerator and brought it over to the living room, hanging over the specially made stand where it should have been. Only then did she start her morning routine.

"Oxton."

Archer materialized near her just as she was taking her first sip of tea. She had to suppress the jolt that ran through her as the did so. The smirk that he showed told her the Spirit had done so deliberately.

"Bloody- Archer! Don't do that!" She snorted and coughed as hot tea expelled itself from her nostrils, "Whatever happened to using the door like a normal person?"

"Figured you would have been used to it enough that I didn't have to warn you." Archer shrugged, lifting his arms with a 'what can you do' expression.

"Yeah, well, I'm drinking tea, you asshat!" With a punch to the man's arm that probably hurt her more than it did him, she grumbled, "At least bloody knock."

"I'll take that into careful consideration." Dryly, Archer shook his head. Before long though, his amusement was overtaken by seriousness, "But, I guess I should get down to business."

The brief bit of levity in the room died a sudden death. Every single time Archer was serious, it was always with bad news. Especially with the last time still so fresh.

"Let's start with the simplest ones." Archer nodded to himself, lifting up a finger from his fist, "First off, I've had Sombra beef up your security around the flat. Remote cameras, silent alarms, the works."

Lena blinked as she took a look around the flat. Absolutely nothing looked out of place. She looked back at Archer, who raised an eyebrow in response, “On the outside, Oxton. I’m not some sort of deviant who’s going to put cameras in your home.”

“Still weird, but okay.” Now that she had calmed down somewhat, Lena took another sip of her tea, motioning for Archer to continue. Surely that wasn’t all that he had come to discuss. The man acquiesced, lifting another finger.

“Second, we’re currently scrambling the surveillance on you as we speak. Give or take, we have a few minutes before the people watching you get an idea of what’s going on.” Archer easily moved out of the way as Lena involuntarily spat out her drink. Coughing roughly, the pilot was suddenly incredibly paranoid.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Who’s bloody watching me?!”

“From what I can tell? Talon.”

Lena’s heart sank at the mention of Talon.  She set her teacup down with a shaky hand, "This is about Ames, isn't it?"

Archer’s expression darkened at the mention of Amélie, "Yes. From what we’ve decrypted, they've been keeping tabs on you since Havana. So far though, it's an interest in your accelerator more than anything else."

"And you've known this the entire bloody time?" Lena couldn't help but feel betrayed, that one of the few people she thought she could trust had been keeping something this big from her. Her voice rose, tinged with frustration and fear, "Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Archer? I’ve been walking around like a bloody target, and you’re just now bringing this up?"

Archer held up a hand, his expression calm but firm, "Because I needed to be sure, Oxton. I couldn’t risk tipping them off by making you act differently. If they thought you were onto them, they might’ve escalated. Sombra and I have been working behind the scenes to figure out how deep this goes. Trust me, I didn’t keep this from you lightly."

Lena clenched her fists, her mind racing. She wanted to be angry, to lash out, but deep down, she knew Archer was right. Still, the thought of being watched, of her life being scrutinized by an organization as dangerous as Talon, made her skin crawl. The memory of watching Doomfist manhandle Winston and Reinhardt sent a cold feeling down her spine.

"Alright," She said finally, forcing herself to take a deep breath, "What do we do now? If they’re after my accelerator, they’re not going to stop. And if they’re watching me, they’re probably watching Emily too."

Archer nodded, his expression grim, "That’s why I’ve already taken steps to ensure Emily’s safety. Sombra’s set up a similar security system around her workplace, and in the Overwatch base."

He paused, his gaze steady, "You’re going to have to play along for now. Act normal, don’t let on that you know they’re watching. But be ready. Talon’s not going to make a move until they’re sure they can get what they want, and when they do, we’ll be ready for them."

Lena swallowed hard, her mind racing with possibilities, "And Ames? What about her? If Talon’s watching me, they’re probably watching her too. Do we know if she’s in danger?"

Archer stared at her with a considering look. Before long, his fingers went up by another one, though there was the slightest grimace on his face as he did so, “That brings me to three. You’re not going to like this one.”

“Did something happen to her?!” 

Lena's heart raced as she leaned forward, her teacup forgotten on the table. The thought of Amélie - a woman that had surprisingly become one of her closer friends - being in danger was almost too much to bear.

Archer hesitated, his usual confidence faltering for a moment. He ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of unease. "It's not that simple, Oxton. Lacroix...she's not in danger. At least, not in the way you're thinking."

Lena's brow furrowed, confusion mixing with her growing anxiety, "What the hell does that mean? Spit it out, Archer!"

"Let me preface this by saying that I've been keeping tabs on her ever since you rescued her in Havana."

Archer’s voice was steady, but there was an edge to it that made Lena’s stomach churn. He continued, “I will admit that I was maybe a tad overzealous when I asked Sombra to attach an invisible tracker on her the first time we met-”

“What the fuck?”

“-I can say that my suspicions were proven correct.”

“No, no, back up. You’ve been stalking her?” Lena’s voice rose sharply, her eyes wide with disbelief and anger. She took a step back from Archer, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You’ve been tracking her? Without her knowledge? Without my knowledge? What the hell is wrong with you, Archer?!”

"I had my reasons. And before you blow up at me, let me finish.”

Lena glared at him, her chest heaving with barely contained fury. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but she forced herself to stay silent, waiting for him to continue. More than that, she had a feeling she knew where he was going with this, and she didn't like it.

“Thank you.” Archer nodded back as he continued, “See, we all thought it was suspicious that Lacroix would be laid out to be rescued in the first place. Since then, she has not shown any signs of contacting anyone from Talon, even from my observations. Even Overwatch has kept an eye on her and they’ve found absolutely nothing. However, none of you are familiar with real brainwashing, are you?”

Brainwashing? Lena’s eyebrows furrowed as she nodded. Yes, she was familiar with the idea of brainwashing. It was all fiction, though. Real brainwashing was thought to be nothing more than an extreme form of mental conditioning, of convincing another individual of another set of thoughts.

Of course, they all thought magic was fiction too.

“I’ve encountered brainwashing before, but I wasn’t certain if Lacroix was a victim of that, or if it was just the trauma she suffered at the hands of Talon.” Archer crossed his arms in a grimace, “I wasn’t sure until recently. Sombra and I managed to intercept some encrypted communications between Talon operatives. They’ve been using a combination of advanced neural conditioning and…something else. Something we don’t fully understand yet.

“You’re saying she’s...what? A sleeper agent?” Lena’s voice was barely above a whisper, her mind racing to process the information, “That everything she’s done since Havana has been an act?”

“Not entirely.” Reaching into his pocket, Archer pulled out a small, purple disc. It lit up, showing a hologram of their hotel room back in Rome, “We set up a surveillance system in the hotel just in case something happened, and from what I can tell, you losing your accelerator? It’s not your fault.”

Judging by the lack of people, Lena had to guess that it was either late in the night, or when everyone was away to explore Rome. No, she could see the colour of the night sky, so it had to be night. The front door opened, giving way to the Lacroix couple. The two of them made their way into their room, chatting quietly together. Soon enough, when they entered the room, the door shut softly behind them.

Lena was confused, not seeing what Archer was implying, before the scene fast forwarded somewhat. The door to the Lacroix room opened once more, and though Lena couldn’t see beyond it, the way that Amélie was being quiet told her that her husband was likely asleep.

She took a breath as the other woman snuck into Lena and Emily’s room, coming out moments later with the familiar form of the chronal accelerator in her hand. That was it then. The complete confirmation that Amélie was a traitor - brainwashed or not.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

Amélie walked in front of the area where Archer told her he found the accelerator in the first place. And just stood there, staring at the object in her hands.

And stood there.

And stood there.

“She stood there for about three hours, after which she hid the accelerator where I found it.” Archer’s brow was furrowed, “From my experience, most forms of mind control can be fought against, if only by the slightest amount. Whatever Talon did, Lacroix’s been fighting against it, and enough that her original objective was delayed - or outright failed.”

The image of Amélie standing motionless for hours, clutching the chronal accelerator, was burned into her thoughts. It was a strange, almost haunting sight - one that didn’t align with the image of a cold, calculating sleeper agent. There was something deeply unsettling about it, something that made Lena’s chest tighten with a mix of pity and fear.

“So… she’s fighting it?” Lena asked quietly, her voice trembling, “But she still took the accelerator. She still tried to sabotage me. How do we know she won’t do it again? Or worse?”

Archer sighed, running a hand through his hair again, “We don’t. That’s the problem." His frown grew in size, "Not that it matters now."

"...she did something, didn't she?"

"Why do you think I'm telling you this now?" Archer might as well have confirmed.

“What did she do?” Lena asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She already dreaded the answer, but she needed to know. She had to.

“...Early last night, inside their own home, Gérard Lacroix was attacked by his own wife. Sombra, by chance, was awake to overhear the commotion through her trackers and call me. If it wasn’t for that, then it was more than likely that Gérard would have died of his wounds.”

Lena’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. The words felt like a punch to the gut.

“Is he...is he okay?” she managed to ask, her voice shaky.

Archer’s expression was grim, “He’s alive. Barely. Ziegler's been working on him nonstop since we brought him in. She’s stabilized him, but it’s going to take time for him to recover. Physically, at least. Mentally...I don’t know how anyone comes back from something like that.”

Lena’s stomach churned, “Where’s Amélie now?” She asked, her voice barely audible.

"Gone." With a frustrated shake of his head, the Spirit scowled, "She moved to King's Row soon after Sombra called me, but she somehow hitched a ride onto a dropship with how fast she was moving. Likely a Talon extraction unit."

Lena sank back onto the couch, her legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t support her. Before she could fall deeper into her own thoughts, however, Archer placed a firm hand on her shoulder, an apologetic look on his face.

"Oxton, I won't lie and say I know exactly how you feel," He started, "But you need to pull yourself together. It won't be long now before the call comes."

"What bloody call?"

"...You're part of the Overwatch strike team, Oxton. And one of your key members almost got killed. What do you think will happen?"

Her phone rang.

…