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alphawave-writes · 4 years

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Evil actions and good intentions chapter 13: ‘Charon and Sigma’

Synopsis: The penultimate chapter. The climactic battle to end all battles, as Harold, Sigma, Symmetra, and Winston face off Harold's mysterious imposter. But who's really behind the mask?

Read it here or find it on AO3. You can find me on twitter @alphawave13 or on my Sigrold discord server.

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It’s almost like gazing into a phantom. For the longest time, his mind adrift in that accursed facility, he often wondered how Harold would look like if he were alive. That was long before he knew Harold was alive, of course, long before he had any control over his abilities and long before rescue would ever come for him. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, having someone on the other side to comfort him. He knew Harold’s mannerisms well enough. It was a simple thing of transplanting that to a new body. The Harold his mind concocted was not unlike the one that stood before him right now, a voice as soft as silk and eyes that perfectly reflected the stars in the sky.

It’s a stark contrast to the Harold by his side, scarred physically and mentally by the Earth and the Moon and the space in between. This Harold, who has lost the innocent naivete of his younger years, who dirtied his hands with blood in a moment of fury, who chose the moniker of Charon and has stuck by his side all this time. This Harold stares at his counterpart in absolute hatred.

“Don’t play games with us. Who are you really?”

“I think you’ve got other things to worry about other than my identity. Your reputation, for example, if you attack me. It won’t look good on Overwatch if you do anything. And that’s not to mention this.” He puts his hand into the pocket of his lab coat and reveals a small USB. Sigma is only able to catch its bright purple colour before the imposter pockets it once more. “You’ll be wanting this, won’t you? All the files have been backed up in here. And you know what, I’ll do you a favour. I’ll do what you want, and we can all leave here in peace.”

As he says that, there’s a large creak as metal breaks. Computer screens all around them begin to fizzle. The server is down. All communication systems are down. No one can contact Horizon ever again.

Winston’s brows wrinkle. “What do you want?”

The imposter smiles impishly. “What I just said. No one will ever know the truth about Harold Winston. The only remaining evidence of your existence and your research is on this USB. You have what you want. Let me have what I need.”

“You know we can’t allow you to do that. That research is important,” Winston says.

“You really want to stand in the way of science?” He shakes his head. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

“You are not me,” Harold growls.

The imposter stares at Harold for a few seconds before chuckling softly. “No. I’m not. I am Harold, but you? You’re the Jade Hare, Specimen: 31. If you really are with Overwatch, I bet you’ve been given another codename on top of all that.”

Harold grits his teeth but says nothing. His cheeks are slightly pink in anger, or perhaps shame. Sigma glares at the imposter.

“The world wants me to return to Earth, I want to return to Earth. They don’t want this Jade Hare nonsense, and they certainly don’t want Overwatch because they are looking into the future. I can give them that future because I see it too. I share their vision. And I will do anything to make sure it comes true.”

Sigma wants to fight back, but his allies do not move and so he does not either, not even to protect Harold’s honour. Even if he was not part of Overwatch, he does not know if he has the strength to fight even a figure in Harold’s image. He wants to hate this man like Harold does, but he loves Harold too much, and that love extends to people that bear his appearance. He's not strong enough, of mind and spirit.

Beside him, Harold crouches down and drops the files on the ground. He holsters his jet injector and walks forward purposely. The other Harold quirks an eyebrow behind his rectangular frames.

“So, I’m not Harold then?” The real one asks.

“You don’t have to be. Not anymore,” the imposter says.

Harold’s lips pull up into a smirk. “Good.”

Suddenly, with ferocious speed he dashes forward and shoves his palm into the imposter’s frames, disintegrating before his very eyes. The imposter steps back, falling to the ground in surprise as Harold grapples him, punching once, twice, before the imposter disappears, leaving behind a robotic endoskeleton. The USB clatters harmlessly onto the ground. The imposter reaches for it but Harold is faster, hissing loudly as he shakes his hand, when suddenly Sigma hears a metallic whirr followed by the clang of metal against the hard floors. Sigma turns around, just barely avoiding a lunge from his imposter. With his powers, he breaks bits of the floor, smashing them together into a boulder before flinging it at his opponent. The imposter is smashed into smithereens, reverting back into its original robotic appearance. A third robot behind it takes his appearance.

“What are you?” Sigma growls.

There’s the puff of an explosion as Symmetra zaps another robot. “Cease your games this instant.”

The imposter laughs maliciously. Their voice has taken on a metallic tint. “Still haven’t figured it out, Satya? It’s a shame. I thought you were much better than that.”

“What…?”

The imposter laughs again, but not in Harold’s voice. The illusion flickers as their appearance morphs and warps. His hair turns into a lighter shade of brown while his skin turns dark as mocha. Their face twists and turns until it no longer resembles Harold, clothes transforming from a lab coat into a familiar looking uniform made of purples and whites.

“Sanjay Korpal?” Symmetra gasps.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Sanjay says. “You had so much potential. You could’ve grown to be a great agent for Vishkar, possibly even the best. We could’ve helped the world be reborn. Make sure no one ever has to suffer like we did.”

“You are not the real Sanjay.”

“Of course I’m not. I’m back down on Earth, but I’ve got my helpers up here.” Sanjay smiles. “Funny what a bit of connection can do for you. Hard light and space technology really do go hand in hand. Perhaps the next step for Vishkar is to collaborate with Lucheng Interstellar more in the future.”

Sigma stares at the robotic endoskeleton, vaguely human in shape, a camouflage device imprinted on their head. Beside the device was a flickering dot. All the other bodies have their own flickering light, beating to the same rhythm. A rhythm that does not repeat. Sigma’s seen this technology before, when Lucheng first tried to establish contact with Horizon shortly after the gorilla rebellion. The robots worked on the same neural network, not unlike a hive mind.

“We are meant to bring peace and order,” Symmetra says. An orb of hard light penetrates through a mob of robots, collapsing in a line like domino pieces. “This is not the way of Vishkar.”

“No, Satya. This is the way of Vishkar. You just never saw it for what it truly is.”

The other robots charge at Winston, who stands his ground, ready to fight, only for the robots to all run past him. They smash their heavy bodies to the glass. An alarm whines in the background, an automated voice calling throughout the speakers warning people to avoid damaging the glass. The robots ignore this, charging again and again, the voice repeating its warning again and again. Winston takes off his glasses, growling menacingly as his skin turns crimson, swiping the robots away with his arms, but it doesn’t work. There’s too many of them.

Sanjay smiles cruelly as he turns to Sigma, eyebrows raising as if daring him to attack. Sigma’s lips twist into a scowl as he hurls the hyperspheres at him, destroying the robot, but soon another robot takes his appearance, and then another. The laugh that Sanjay gives is cruel, almost mocking.

“He’s trying to trigger a lockdown!” Harold shouts. “Stop him from destroying the glass. If he breaks it, we won’t be able to get back to the spaceship.”

“You’ve got other things to worry about,” Sanjay says. “Did you really think that USB has what you’re looking for? I’ve got copies. All I need to do is get the encryption key and transmit it back down to Earth, and soon we will know all about your secrets.” His eyes flit to Harold. “You really want to risk that?”

Harold shoots electricity from his jet injector, frying Sanjay. The other robots all begin to take the appearance of the fake Harold as they continue to ram themselves into the glass. Sigma joins Harold, Satya, and Winston in destroying as many as they can, a mountain of bodies by their feet, but the robots still come. It feels endless. Tiring. Sigma can feel his grasp over his abilities slip in exhaustion.

“Please avoid damaging or tampering with the gla—please avoid damage—please avoi—please av—ple—ple—ple—”

The voice dies, and the alarm stops for a second. The lights power down, the only illumination coming from the glowing lunar surface outside and the brilliant blue Earth. Then a new sound echoes, and the world is bathed in blood red light.

“HORIZON LUNAR COLONY INTEGRITY BREACHED. INITIATING LOCKDOWN. INITIATING LOCKDOWN.”

The sounds of shutters rolling down masks the cruel laugh Sanjay gives. Winston is the first to act, leaping out of the way of the robots, glasses returning to his face. He grabs ahold of Satya, and leaps forward back to the observatory and the spaceship.

Sigma is about to follow them when he hears Harold yell. The robots, having completed their job in initiating the lockdown, are now mobbing him. With a wave of his hand, Sigma breaks the chains of gravity and lifts them above Harold. He rushes over, helping Harold stand.

“We have to get on the spaceship before the shutters close. We don’t have time,” Sigma orders.

“I can’t,” Harold says.

“Why not?!”

“The gorillas. They’ll die if we don’t stop the lockdown. The shutters will corner off each individual section of the colony. If they’re relying on the self-sufficiency stations, the farms, the medical stations, they'll all be locked off. No one else will be able to get back here to save them in time and if Sanjay has corrupted all the robots, they won’t be able to do any repairs. I have to help them.”

“Those damned apes have done nothing for you, there is no need to sacrifice yourself for that selfish lot.” Sigma gingerly cups Harold’s face. “Don’t do this. I’m not losing you again. Come back with us before it’s too late.”

Harold frowns. “Siebren,” he starts.

“D-don’t do this,” Sigma whispers. “I’m not as smart as you. Not as strong. I can’t do this.”

“Help me, Siebren. We can do this together.” He takes Sigma’s hand and grips it firmly. Amidst the red, Harold’s golden eyes are as warm as the sun. “My nanobots and your powers, we can be unstoppable.”

“Dr. Winston! Dr. de Kuiper!” Winston calls.

Sigma grits his teeth, tears beading from his eyes. He turns to Winston and Satya, a pained expression on his face, his throat impossibly tight.

Harold smiles bittersweetly. “Get to the spaceship and get out of here, sport. Before it’s too late.”

Winston’s eyes widen in understanding, then horror. “Dad!”

“I’m sorry, champ.”

Sigma opens his hand and uses the force of gravity to push Winston and Satya away, back towards the door to the observatory. Winston stares at Harold for a few seconds from the other side, just as the shutter closes over the door. Winston bangs frantically at the door but apart from some small dents, it does not budge. There is no noise for a minute or two, and then there is the sound of the spacecraft disembarking, blasting off into the cold regions of space.

By Sigma’s side, Harold gives a small smile. Sigma huffs. “I am going to regret this.”

“I know.” Quieter, he says, “Thank you.”

One side of Sigma’s lips quirks up as he brings the robots down to the ground, smashing them into bits. With his powers, he clumps them all up into a ball and hurls it at the shutter to the next sector of Horizon, cracking it open. They run through the wreckage and into the next section.

Harold runs forward, Sigma using his powers to destroy the shutters that block their way. He can see Harold’s eyes flit through the different sectors, mind racing.

“What do we have to do, Charon?”

“We’ve got two options: seal the glass or stop the emergency lockdown. Even if you destroy all the shutters and unlock all the different sections, the base will be losing oxygen. Depending on how much oxygen is leaking, we’ve got anywhere between minutes to weeks.”

“And how much oxygen is leaking?”

“I don’t know,” Harold says. “All I know is we need to head to maintenance. Sector 02. Best case scenario, one of the systems might be able to put an emergency seal in. Second best, there’s a kit for us to do it manually.”

“And if neither of those things are possible? If we can’t get there for whatever reason?”

Harold glances nervously at Sigma.

“Harold,” he utters slowly, “there is a way for us to get back down to Earth, is there?”

Harold doesn’t respond. He keeps his head straight as Sigma blasts down the next shutter doors.

As they race forward, Sigma sees glimpses of the other primates, staring curiously at them. He sees the different sectors, once built for human research and human needs, now repurposed to suit primate needs. Farms are at maximum capacity, growing a variety of fruits and vegetables, the auto-dispenser distributing the rare bit of meat. Clothes are ripped to make hammock nests. And there are so many more of them, so many young ones that can make even his heart melt at the sight. He has to admit, he’s worried that he may have to fight them off, but they’re all looking strangely at him.

No…not at him. At Harold. They’re looking at Harold like he’s a stranger.

Harold glances over his shoulder. “Keeping up?”

Sigma huffs. “May I be the first to say that Horizon was structured horrendously? Why have all your departments in specific sectors?”

“Blame Lucheng, not me,” Harold laughs.

When they finally get to the maintenance sector, Harold immediately dashes for the main office where the computers are. He fiddles with one of them for a minute, his face lighting up.

“The system is still in place," Harold says excitedly. "And not just the one to cease the lockdown, I can stop Sanjay too. All I need to do is—”

Sigma is about to join Harold at the computer when suddenly he feels a pair of strong arms shove him forcefully to the wall, one hand clamped tightly over his neck. His eyes widen as he takes in the massive gorilla holding him like he weighs nothing.

“Simon?!” Harold shouts.

“Why are you here?” Simon’s gorilla eyes narrow on Harold. “You,” he seethes.

“Let him go!”

Before Simon can respond, Sigma hears the distinct clank of metal on floor as multiple robots charge in, bearing the imposter Harold’s appearance. Harold tries to get his jet injector ready, but it’s swiped out of his hands. He’s shoved to the floor, fists desperately trying to get some damage on the metal surface underneath, only to return battered and bruised. Simon doesn’t react, just stares at the scene with mild confusion.

Sigma’s not sure if the oxygen rapidly escaping his body is from Simon’s grip or from the colony itself. He hears another siren, a different warning blaring over the speakers, which he assumes it about the oxygen levels. All he can concentrate on is the area where that little flickering dot would be behind the camouflage. He wants to fight back, but he can't. His powers are failing him with every breath he attempts. His body gets weaker with every second that passes.

“You want to be dead so bad, don’t you. You really have a death wish,” one of the imposter robots snarls.

Harold doesn’t look at the robots. He’s staring at Simon, making a complicated hand gesture. Simon’s grip weakens slightly. Harold’s doing his own plan, Sigma realizes, but is it the same as the one he’s thinking? What is Harold thinking? Why can’t he figure out what Harold is thinking?

“I should have done this earlier," the robots say simultaneously. "Back when you were in Oasis. I chose to keep you alive, because I thought you’d be more useful alive to us. But that’s my mistake, one that I shall rectify.”

“S-Simon,” Harold gasps. “A-air…lock.”

Simon’s lips twist into an unreadable expression, and then his skin turns crimson, letting go of Sigma to swipe at the imposters. Harold is able to scramble free, racing to the computer. His fingers dance on the keyboard while Sigma catches his breath, trying to make sense of this battle between robots and gorilla. Nothing makes any more sense. But then when did anything make sense in his life? Harold types away, “One moment, give me one moment…yes!”

With his words, the lights go out once again. When it returns, everything is the same clinical white. From Sigma’s angle, he can still see the shutter to the next section still firmly in place. Sanjay turns to Harold, shoving Simon away to race after Harold. He is fast, able to close the distance quickly, only for the robot to stop dead in its tracks mid-stride. It falls down with a heavy thud by Harold’s feet.

Sigma turns to Harold, not sure if the expression on his face is amazed or terrified. He assumes it’s the former when Harold chuckles quietly. “These robots are still the original service bots from decades ago. No matter how much Vishkar or Talon might have tampered with them, you can’t get rid of that killswitch. They won’t be moving or transmitting anything anytime soon.”

“You noticed the hive mind network too?” Sigma asks.

“You’re not the only smart guy here,” Harold chuckles.

Simon is still staring at Harold. His skin returns to a dull grey as he brushes himself off. There’s no more anger in his expression, but his face is not entirely kind. “I have built up my people here on this land. If you think we are giving it over to you—”

“I’m not here for you or the others,” Harold replies. “This is your home now. If you know how to get us back to Earth, I’ll make sure no human will ever disturb you.”

Simon gives a soul-piercing glare at Harold for a few seconds before retreating. His expression is stoic. “Fix the mess you made and get out of here. This is our territory now. The moon belongs to the animals.”

It’s not the peaceful conclusion Sigma hopes for, but considering this was the very gorilla that threw Harold out of the airlock the first time, he thinks it’s as much as he can hope for. He's not sure even he can win in a fight against gorillas, much less genetically-engineered ones with a vendetta against humans.

Sigma rounds up all of the robots into a pile near one of the airlocks while Harold undoes the lockdown and seals the crack in the glass. With Sigma’s abilities he forces the weight of gravity on the endoskeletons, crushing them beyond repair and recognition. All except one, that is. There is one endoskeleton that is still maintaining the Harold disguise. Using the pieces of the other endoskeletons, Sigma is able to take a rudimentary picture and send it back to Lucheng Interstellar. The assumption will be that Harold Winston is dead for real this time. Sanjay won’t be able to use Harold’s appearance for his own purposes anymore.

They have a small audience now comprised of the other test subjects, all bigger and older than when Sigma last remember seeing them, silently judging from a far distance. Sigma catches Harold gazing upon them sadly but it is clear there is no love lost between the animals. Though Harold loved them like family, they only saw Harold as the torturer who got away. One wrong move and the animals will attack again. Sigma would comfort Harold, but he knows it's not necessary. This life is no longer his. In more ways than one, the Harold Winston that Siebren de Kuiper fell in love with did die on the moon.

The glass sealed, a warning sign of common lexigrams placed next to the crack, Harold helps Sigma push the robot pieces into the airlock. Harold puts in his code, and the pieces fly off into the moon, scattering across the crater. Not the most environmentally friendly way of disposing the robots, but the safest given the circumstances.

“There is one escape pod in the Hangar,” Simon says. “I do not know if it is functional. You will have to repair it yourself.”

“And if it can’t be repaired? If it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll throw you out the airlock just like last time.” His voice is neutral but the way his brows lower make it clear he will make good on his promise.

Slowly they make their way to the Hangar. The escape pod in question is in fact an old satellite. There is no propulsion system, and very little in the ways of comfort and safety, but it can be repurposed to be habitable and be directed to Earth. With the combined efforts of their powers there is a possibility they may be able to survive the impact. It’s far from ideal, and the chance of death is high, but Simon’s threat still hangs in the air. There is no way that Overwatch will be able to requisition another spacecraft in the near future.

“It’s funny, being up here, fixing this up. Wouldn’t have considered doing this the last time I was up in space,” Sigma says.

“How so?” Harold asks.

“The last time I was away from Earth, I was trying to harness a black hole. It was all to do with space travel, actually. Considering what I know now, I probably harnessed something more akin to a wormhole than an actual black hole. I saw it both in reality and in my mind’s eye. If I try, I can almost hear its melody.”

“You think you could do that? Make a wormhole to get us back home?”

Sigma frowns. “You don’t know what it was like when I had my accident. Everything happened all too fast and then far too slow. I felt like I spent a second and a million years trapped in that moment,. I don’t know what will happen if I try to summon it again. I have to get the math right, I need to make sure all the equations are correct.” Sigma gazes at the floor. “Truth is, I am afraid of that thing. Have been ever since.”

Harold puts a hand on Sigma’s shoulder. “Let’s get this thing done then. We’ll keep it as a last resort.”

Sigma smiles. “Sure.”

They continue working side by side on the old satellite. Sigma doesn’t know how much time has passed, just that his body is slow to respond when he hears the ringing alarms of the hangar doors open. Outside is a construction robot, designed for the continued repair of Horizon Lunar Colony, but it’s long since been dormant since the rebellion.

Or at least it should. But all too fast and all too slow Sigma realises that it's moving. And it's charging at them.

Harold whips his head around, readying his jet injector, but he’s too slow to react. He’s pinned to the ground, heavy metal trapping his leg with an audible crack, making his shriek in guttural pain. The gorillas hoot and screech in anger, going red in rage as they try to attack this new intruder, but the construction robot swipes them away with ease. Sigma fires a volley of hyperspheres at the robot, but he’s also shoved to the ground. The voices in his head are drowned out by the alarms blaring above his body and the weak groans that escape his lips.

The construction robot picks the two of them up like they weigh nothing, rapidly moving to the hangar doors. Air is rapidly escaping from them, gravity threatening to pull them out into the moon’s atmosphere. Sigma needs to concentrate to use his powers, but he needs one look of Harold, blood oozing out of his leg, and his breathing gets heavier and quicker. Gravity is fluctuating, but it doesn’t affect the massive construction robot, built specifically for use in multiple different gravity conditions.

The voice that comes out of its voice box is filled with static, crackling noisily, and barely audible. “You make my work worthless. You ruined months of work and years worth of research, and for what? To hide your precious little nanobots for a little bit longer?”

Harold punches until his knuckles are bleeding. “Siebren!”

"If you want to be dead, Harold Winston—"

Sigma desperately flings whatever piece of equipment his powers can raise at the robot, but it only dents it slightly. The construction robot is still functioning.

“—then I’ll make your wish come true.”

“Siebren, make the wormh—”

The construction robot throws them out into the cold reaches of the moon and shuts the door. Even if the door wasn’t locked, they’re floating uncontrollably, the low gravity propelling them far away, too far away to get back in time. They make no sound when their bodies finally hit the coarse surface of the moon. No sound can be transmitted from this world without air. The only thing Sigma can hear is not the universe’s whisperings, not the incessant voices in his head, but his own thoughts, as clear as crystal.

We’re going to die.

Harold stares at Sigma with golden eyes as he tries to crawl to him. It’s not easy in the microgravity, but he floats over, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Sigma feels the soft glow of the nanobots surround his body and enter his bloodstream. Suddenly his one breath feels like it can last so much longer, but it will only buy him seconds. It’s lunar day on the moon, and the temperature is so hot it feels like he’s melting. His skin is sticking to his armour. He's burning alive from the intense heat.

Harold is mouthing some words at him. The same thing he was trying to say before they got sucked out. In this moment, time all too fast and all too slow, he’d tell Harold his greatest fears if he could. He’d tell Harold that the only reason he’s never tried to summon the black hole is because he’s afraid. He’d tell Harold the only reason he never tried to summon a worm hole is because he’s afraid. So much of his life after that tragic accident has been dictated by fear, both the ones he acknowledged and the ones he didn’t.

He almost expects the universe to whisper its dark magic at him and tell him to give up his mind once again, but it remains silent this time. It’s his decision, the universe says in its silence, to die on the moon by the side of his beloved or risk his mind once again and open up the wormhole and take them back to Earth. He wants to give up. He wants to be weak by Harold’s side one final time. He wants to, because he is a villain who has done nothing good in his life, regardless of his intentions. Villains deserve to die at the edge of space, boiled and frozen alive.

But he’s not a villain anymore. He has people who love him. People who care for him and about him. People who look up to Overwatch and its members as a symbol of hope. If he inspires just a little bit of heroism, just enough of a spark to incite curiosity in just one person out there in the world, he can’t be a villain.

He wraps his arms around Harold, humming a noiseless tune that no wind can carry. A wormhole appears, growing between their chests, threatening to consume them. In that wormhole he sees the bridge between time and space. He sees the infinite realities and the infinite version of himself warped and changed through the efforts of infinite realities. Except it’s not just infinite versions of him, but also infinite versions of Harold and Overwatch, all smiling brightly. He thinks of Watchpoint: Gibraltar and the medical wing with Mercy and the training areas with the practice robots and that comfortable king-sized bed and the glimmering waters of the sea, the moon high above their head.

In a flash, they are gone, disappearing from the universe for a moment.

When Sigma wakes up, he thinks he might have died for real. All he can see is blinding white surrounding his vision. He sits up, wincing as pain shoots up his back and all throughout his skin. He glances down, his body wrapped in bandages like a mummy, drips attached at his forearm. Slowly he peaks under the bandages. His skin is noticeably burned, but in the final stages of healing. In days, maybe a week, it'll look like normal flesh once more.

He's alive, he realises slowly. He's alive and breathing and safe.

“Dr. de Kuiper,” a voice sighs. “We were so worried about you.”

Sigma blinks as the light fades into acceptable levels. He’s in a hospital bed, surrounded by many of the members of Overwatch. Mercy is there, as is Tracer, Symmetra, Genji, Sojourn, and many others. He's almost certain the entirety of the reformed Overwatch team is there in this room, except there are some noticeable exceptions. Winston is not here. Neither is Harold.

“Where…?” He coughs loudly, his throat impossibly parched. On instinct, Mercy hands him a glass of water with some kind of tablet fizzing inside.

“Drink,” she says.

He nods slowly, being careful to down it all. He wipes his mouth, relieved that the skin on his face feels relatively normal.

“We found you both on the cliffside here on Gibraltar, unconscious. A gust of wind could have blown you off the cliff altogether if we didn’t catch you as soon as we did. You had severe burns on your skin and a few of your internal organs. I had to work day and night to save you both.”

“He’s…he’s alive, isn’t he?”

Mercy’s face falls for just a second. The rest of the crowd glance nervously at each other.

Suddenly there’s the sound of the door opening loudly, crashing into the wall. Mercy glares at the intruder.

“S-sorry about that,” Winston smiles nervously.

Sigma turns his head slowly to see Harold himself, scarred but smiling, tears beading in his eyes. With Winston's help, he slowly approaches Sigma’s bed, putting a hand on his leg.

“Thank god you’re OK," Harold says.

He can’t stop himself. He turns his body and pulls Harold into a crushing hug. Harold’s laugh turns into a groan as he pats Sigma incessantly. “O-OK, big guy, let me down.”

There’s a few quiet chuckles from the others as Sigma hesitantly lets go of Harold. When Harold relaxes, Sigma punches him lightly on the arm. Harold yelps, more in surprise than pain.

His gaze sweeps over Harold, from the nasal catheter and his grey hair down to his casual clothes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes settles on the newest addition on Harold’s person. One of his legs is in a cast, messages written out on blue and green marker on the bandages. The wheelchair he’s sitting on is old and decrepit but usable. “Turns out nanobots can’t do much about broken bone,” Harold explains. “Compound fracture like you wouldn’t believe. I saw my leg in the x-ray and it was like a jigsaw puzzle. But I’ll be good to go in a month or two, depending on how fast the nanobots work.”

“That is if it sets in the correct position,” Mercy counters. “You must be very careful to ensure that the bone does not set in the incorrect position. If it does, you won't be able to walk or run properly ever again."

"I'll be fine," Harold insists. "I'm sure I will with your nanobiotics. I've been doing some reading on them, and I'm thinking it might be possible to combine them with my nanorobots. Nanobiotic nanobots. Has a nice ring, doesn't it?"

Mercy gives a hint of a smile before it gives way for professional stoicism. Sigma turns to Mercy slowly. "Is it possible I can talk to Harold? Alone?"

Mercy isn't even able to open her mouth before Tracer blinks forward, pushing Mercy towards the door with an overenthusiastic grin. "Not a problem, Doc, we'll get out of your hair. Come on, everybody. Hut two, hut two. Leave the space dads to do their space dad things."

On Tracer's orders and her incessant shoving, everybody crams themselves through the door and shut it behind them. Harold looks up at Sigma, his soft smile growing coquettish. "Guess we're alone now."

"Indeed," Sigma says softly.

There are a thousand different things Sigma can say to show his appreciation and his love and his relief and his hurt. There are so many things for him to say, but he doesn't say them. He just takes Harold's hand into his own, feels the warmth spread through his body, and knows deep in his soul that this is the man he loves, and whom he will love in return.

"Never make me do that again," Sigma whispers. "And never risk your life like that again."

Harold grips Sigma's hand tightly, his smile as bright as the light of a 1000 suns. "No promises, big guy. I'll always help the ones that I love and care about."

"Does that include me?"

"That will always include you," Harold says. He places a tender peck to the back of Sigma's hand. "From now till death do us part."

Sigma laughs weakly. "I don't think even death can tear us apart."

Harold stays for the rest of the day, chatting about everything and nothing. Sooner or later, the two of them fall asleep, Sigma in his bed, and Harold in his wheelchair, their heads leaning towards each other.

#Overwatch #Sigma #Siebren de Kuiper #Harold Winston #Sigrold #Oh god this chapter #The penultimate chapter had to be the most action packed that's why it took so long #But it's finally finished #So now I have the epilogue to do and the story will be done #Thank you to everybody who's been supporting me on this journey #Still can't believe all the Sigrold I've got over the months #I'm probably still gonna write stories for them but like one-shots #But before that I owe you all a nice fluffy ending #Stick around for that because something tells me I'll get that done real quick

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