Beads of perspiration covered your skin, the scant paper gown clung to your body in pieces, and strands of your hair were starting to mat around your face.

Despite your unconscious state of being, your heart was sustaining a dangerous rate. And the din of the alarming cardiac monitor only served to escalate his fear of losing you. Helplessly, your fiancé watched as your chest rose and fell in a troubled rhythm.

"Dammit, Moira! Do something!" Gabriel snarled, desperation beginning to coil around him.

Not one versed in lifesaving measures, Moira O'Deorain stood beside you in a momentary stupor after she had frantically connected you to the vitals monitor. "I- I never studied medicine in depth, Reyes. What would you have me do?"

"Get that thing out of her," he demanded, without a second thought.

"As I've said, medicine is not my forte, much less surgery," The geneticist responded heatedly. "I have nothing that could slow her heart rate or ease her pain."

"What about the biotic technology you've used- -"

"The effect it may have on the child is not known!"

"I don't care about the kid!"

"What I'm saying is it could kill her altogether," she said firmly, studying his expression as the anger began to vacate. "But what I know will not kill her is..." The woman paused for effect. "The substance mixing with your blood."

"No," With renewed anger, Gabriel furrowed his brow and shook his head vehemently. "It's why she's like this in the first place- - I'm the reason she's this way in the first place."

The contriver played the part of a concerned ally well. Moira knew how to take advantage of his emotional distress, guilt, and love for you. "It's not the time to be temperamental, Gabriel," She spun her persuasive words. "The pace of her heart... she can't go on like this much longer."

An agonized gasp escaped your lips, and it was the breaking point Moira needed to overcome your fiancé's hesitation. "She's going to die otherwise."

His thoughts a whirlwind of panic, anxiety, and dread, he was defeated. "Alright! Just- just fucking do it." Focused on your troubled features as he took your hand in his, he was oblivious to the evil smile that spread her lips as she introduced an ink-dark liquid into your bloodstream.

His eyes darted to where the needle punctured your skin, and he felt his gut sink when the substance in question made its mark on your body—the way it rapidly spread through your veins, changing the pigment of your skin as it coursed in your blood.

"This needs to work," Gabriel squeezed your hand, silently praying for you to be healthy again.

"It already has," She motioned to the monitor. "Heart rate and blood pressure have markedly improved. Even her breathing's returning to normal."

It was true—the black serum was stabilizing you.

The instant Moira withdrew the needle from your arm, the small break in your skin disappeared. "She's more than alright."

Gabe saw it, too—the rapid regeneration your body exhibited. Much like his own, yet... different. In troubled silence, he watched as the pain diminished—no longer contorting your face or drawing every muscle tight in your body.

"Perhaps we've given her exactly what she needed to survive this unexpected pregnancy," she marveled, this woman who might have saved your life or cursed you to monstrosity. "Who would have guessed that you are capable of breeding in your constant state of decay and regeneration?"

Gabriel found himself caught between relief and apprehension, his stomach a mess of knots. "Leave us." He implored, "Please."

In all her years of knowing him, Moira had never seen the man so... vulnerable and conquered.

However pitiful he was, it was working to her advantage. You would be her next scientific breakthrough, and she would be recognized for her brilliance yet. Thrill coursing through her, the scheming geneticist left Gabriel to his brooding thoughts.

When the doors hissed to a close, he whispered over you, "Let's get you out of here." His movements swift and precise, he removed the wires adhering to your skin before hoisting you onto his back.

With your impaired consciousness, escape was going to prove challenging for him. He stuck to the shadows, praying there would be no hostile encounters.

Elsewhere in the Talon headquarters, its leaders reconvened. They were all intently observing the live security footage of Gabriel Reyes as he made his getaway unopposed.

"I trust everything is in order?" The one who took the mantle of Doomfist was seated at the center. He was speaking to Moira O'Deorain as she joined the conference but his eyes remained fixed on a wide screen—particularly on your resting form.

"Yes, he didn't suspect a thing," she replied with a thin-lipped smile.

"What are you planning? There must be a reason you are allowing him to escape, Akande." Someone chimed, and fractured murmurs broke out among them.

"Silence," He commanded, his powerful voice muting the rest. "Would you care to explain, Doctor?"

"I'm certain many here are aware of how our very own Widowmaker came to be." She cut to the chase. "Let's just say that we have another in the making."

A bout of murmurs erupted, this time louder.

"How?"

"Why is this the first we are hearing about this?"

"Did it not take us months of intensive reconditioning for Amélie Lacroix to become what she is now?"

"Silence!" Akande commanded again, and the commotion ceased. "Please, allow her to explain."

"This is unprecedented," The geneticist began to elaborate. "This woman's condition is one of a kind. She's pregnant with Reyes's child, and the fetus is affecting her body. In the recent week, I've managed to combine what I've gleaned from Lacroix's and Reyes's cellular studies both. And from this knowledge, I've created an experimental concoction- -"

"And what do we hope to gain from this... formulation you've concocted, Doctor?" Akande inquired to speed the informative process along.

Taking no offense in the interruption, Moira let out a sinister chuckle before giving her audiences a dramatic response, "The end of Overwatch."

Clamor broke out among Talon's leaders again, but this time Akande Ogundimu allowed the noise escalate.

He retreated into his own thoughts, your face fresh in his mind's eye. With you at Talon's disposal, he was determined to perpetuate chaos.

And he would find no greater pleasure in using you to kill that traitor Gabriel Reyes—first and foremost.

The rest would simply follow.

--

Your next conscious moment found you uncomfortably hot and agitated. You woke up that way, drenched in sweat and probably the furthest from smelling like roses. You immediately saw the culprit of your misery—a heap of cotton blankets you would set on fire in a heartbeat.

A distorting mental fog was hindering your ability to recall. There was an odd sort of exhaustion that held fast to the edge of your awareness and weighed down on your shoulders.

The hospital gown stuck like secondary skin to your body, and you frowned in disgust. You cast the covers aside and forced yourself to your feet, your lips chapped and raw as you took deep and meaningful breaths through them.

Where am I?

"Hello?" You took several steps towards the solitary door. Adjacent to it seemed to be a viewing window, with a rolling shade for privacy purposes you'd guess. How odd that the shade was on the outside. "Is anyone out there?"

When you reached the door, you realized that it was locked. And since there was no locking mechanism from the inside, you'd guessed that someone had locked you in.

Confusion mixed with fear pulsed through your veins, prompting you to survey your room once again. To the corner, affixed to the ceiling, was a small cylindrical projection. It was no doubt a camera.

Is this still Talon HQ?

Your inward question was answered when the shade curtain rose to reveal two intimately familiar men.

"Gabe! Jack!" Your hand flew up, palm flattening against the surface of the window pane. "Guys, can you let me out?"

Your smile of relief vanished the instant you saw the troubled expression they shared. You stared wide-eyed as Gabriel's gaze slid down the length of your body. His perusal was slow and thorough, coasting over your breasts, moving past the curve of your hips and down to your bare legs beyond the short hem of your hospital gown.

"Why am I locked in here?"

Jack was the one to respond. His blue eyes sharp and penetrating, he replied solemnly, "You're in there because your fiancé's an idiot, because he let you be compromised—and I won't take any chances. I refuse to let there be another incident like Gérard's."

—

A/N: Hello all! Sorry about the long wait! I hope you've all been well! I had some terrible writer's blocks over the past few months with this story, but I think it should be better from this point on. I need to start wrapping this story up so I can continue the McCree series. The last animated short gave me some massive ideas to play with.

As always, thanks for your support and your patience. You guys rock. Please leave me some feedback if you'd like!