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puckish-saint · 7 years

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May I Request Symmetra, Hanzo and D.VA reacting to being told their s/o died when their last interaction was a fight that ended badly? I need the angst

Symmetra

She follows you out of the kitchen anddown to the landing pad, refusing to end this conversation before shehas said her piece.“You always take their side-”“Idon’t - what? You know that’s not true.” You pinch the bridgeof your nose, wishing you could just make up and part in peace.

“Do I? Because whenever we discusssomething I am alone and you … you gang up on me.”

Fareeha meets you at the landing pad,throwing a glance to Satya and back to you, asking without words ifyou have a handle on this. You nod and wave her away, turning aroundto face your girlfriend in the same motion.

“We’re not ganging up on you, butI’m entitled to my own opinions and in this case I think you arewrong about yours.” The aircraft’s engines roar, a not so subtlecue for you to get a move on and leave the relationship troubles athome. She opens her mouth but you cut her off before she can sayanother word. “We can discuss this after I return. Okay? I stilllove you.”Satya doesn’t say it back. She crosses her armsover her chest and turns away, stubbornly refusing to meet your eyesuntil your shoulders drop and you leave.

Twelve hours later she gets told youwon’t return.

She listens to Fareeha’s report,filled with static and barely comprehensible, talking aboutcomplications, superior force, bad luck. She requests backup andLúcio and Mei are out of the door the second Winston gives theorder. For you every help comes too late. Winston offers her time offwork, counseling, a shoulder to cry on. She declines all three, findsherself thinking of the argument, hanging in the air like a noose,unfinished business that makes her skin itch and her eyes burn.

If you hadn’t gone away like thatthis wouldn’t have happened. Fareeha spoke of you being distracted,didn’t want to pass blame to the dead and it wasn’t your faultthat you died, she never said that, but Satya knows she thought itand everyone else in the room did as well.

She can’t shake the irrationalthought you did it on purpose, died to get out of an argument becauseyou knew you were wrong. You left her hanging, a dozen arguments onher tongue she’ll never get to say.

McCree is the first to approach her andoffer his condolences. He’s unkempt and unshaven when he knocks ather door, and the hat pulled down so deep into his eyes she nearlymisses the red rim around his eyes.

“You, ah, wanna talk? Know you didn’texactly part on friendly terms-”“There is no need fordiscussion.” Satya says primly. If she tells him about the argumentyou had he will take your side even if he thinks you’re wrong.You’ve made absolutely certain no one would take her side.

“Y’sound angry.”

She is. Through his meekness she seesyour arrogance, your conviction that you were right and she was wrongand now you’ve done and gotten the last word in.

“I am not.” she lies and forgetsthat even if he acts like a blundering buffoon sometimes, he stillused to be an agent of Blackwatch, trained to detect a lie a hundredmiles away.

“Listen, I know it’s not my place,but it’s happened before and maybe I can help ya deal withthat-”“There is nothing to deal with.” she snaps,pushes him away to leave but he grabs her arm, light enough for herto pull free, hard enough to urge her to stay. Her hair falls intoher face when she says, very quietly: “I was correct. If thatmission hadn’t come I could have proven I was- I …”

Jesse says what has sat at the back ofher mind ever since the news came, when she searched forjustifications, arguments, anything to prove she would have won theargument: “Does it matter who’s right?”

It doesn’t and that’s the hardestlesson to learn.

Hanzo

The argument drags on long into thenight and by the end of it you’re both going to bed angry. He lieswith his back turned to yours, frowning at the wall, too agitated tofall asleep although you don’t seem to have that problem, judgingby your peaceful breathing. Although, to be fair, he would have beenjust as irritated had you been tossing and turning. There’s nothingright to be done or said, not after the shouting match from earlier.Part of him wonders if it’s his fault, if his own stubborn pride isthe cause for this. That’s the part he carries with him into sleepand that sticks with him when he gets up the next morning and seesyour side of the bed empty and cold. Not even a note, and although heknows where you are and when you will return, it stings that there isnothing. No hearts drawn on a note stuck to a plate of breakfastyou’re always leaving him when you can’t eat together. Just thecold, empty side of the bed and McCree’s frantic call on theemergency comm. Ambush, he says, and Hanzo runs like his life dependson it because there’s only one team out there and his life doesdepend on you getting home safely.

The aircraft is being prepped foremergency departure, Jesse shouts orders like he’s done nothingelse, serape fluttering wildly in the gust of engines starting up.Hanzo doesn’t ask to be on the relief team, he simply boards theaircraft and stares at Jesse, just daring him to say a word. Hedoesn’t and shuts the doors behind them.

The aircraft’s in the air less thanthree minutes when communications to your team break off. As hard asshe tries, Satya can’t reestablish the link.

“Try again.” Hanzo orders. Shetells him it’s no use, there’s nothing to link to, and sheflinches when he punches the wall in frustration. She tries againeven though she knows it won’t work and he waits by her side, praysto every god that will listen that he gets one more chance to talk toyou. Just a few seconds, he’s not asking for more. Just the lengthof time it takes to say ‘I’m sorry’.

They land on the site of a massacre.Dozens of dead and wounded, most of them civilians. Between lawenforcement hunting for Overwatch’s vigilantes and the generalchaos it takes four hours to find your remains. Fareeha, who’s ledthe team and is the only one of it still conscious and alive, criesand the sight is more jarring than the blood and destruction aroundhim. He sits by your side, the white sheet covering up your mangledbody, and apologises. Again, and again, whispered assurances thathe’s sorry, that he was stupid to argue, that his points were mootand you were right. He should have listened to you, and he’s sorry.

He repeats it like you’ll come backif he somehow gets you to understand.

He’s still whispering it - I’msorry, please, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you - when theothers lead him away. He tells them to let him be, that you won’thear him and then he realises what he said. Fareeha is the one tohold him through his breakdown.

D.Va

You argue over the phone, angry textsriddled with typos and accusations flung back and forth. Neither ofyou will wait until the other has finished their texts but neither doyou want to call and scream at each other over the phone. Ihave to go and do my job, you write, try to act like an adultwhen I’m back.

It’s a low blow, using her age andyou both know it. She writes something equally stinging back andnever gets the confirmation you received the text. She hopes youdidn’t.

Orisa is the one to carry your bodyback to base, unable to call ahead with the broken communicationssystem. She stands in front of the gates, your lifeless body slungover hers and that’s how the team learns of your death.

Hana takes it with professional grace.It’s not the first time she’s lost people in battle and you meanmuch more to her than any of her friends and comrades but at the endof the day, she knows the drill. She cleans out your locker and yourroom, all your belongings carefully set aside in boxes that now takeup half of her room. She manages your affairs, sends out messages tofriends and family outside Overwatch, and organises the funeral.Through it all she doesn’t allow herself to grief. Everytimesomething like this happens she’s afraid if she breaks down shewon’t get up again. People already tell her the war is no place forsomeone like her. In times like these, losing the first person she’sever loved, it would be so easy to agree with them, knowing they’llbe lost without her skills but not caring either way.

Aleksandra doesn’t offer her earlyretirement. She doesn’t say much at all, but the first chance shegets she drags her out of her room and into the common room, pushinga controller in her hand and taking up the other one. She looks downat it, knows that just a few weeks ago she would have somersaulted inexcitement that she got Aleksandra to play with her. She hates videogames, thinks they’re a waste of time. Now Hana agrees to playbecause she knows it will make her feel as if she helped.

They play a round, Aleksandra wins.They play another one and Hana wins, putting in just as much effortas she needs to. Her thoughts are elsewhere.

“I’m beginning to miss trash talk.”Aleksandra says casually and offers her a lopsided smile. She shrugs.

“Not feeling it.”“Is therereason?”

The only reason there is lately.Whatever she does since you died, it feels like she does it becauseor in spite of your death. Aleksandra pauses the video game, turnsaround to face her. Expecting but patient.

“What if ... “ Hana pauses, clearsher throat. She won’t cry. She doesn’t need to give the othersmore ammunition to treat her like a child. “What if you go outthere and die and the last thing I ever said to you was that yousuck?”

What if you read the last text she sentyou and died believing that’s what she thinks of you?

Aleksandra doesn’t have an answer forher. She offers consolations, that everyone knows she doesn’treally mean what she says, that you knew she loved you even if youargued. It’s all true but it doesn’t help.

You still died and the last thing shesaid to you she meant to hurt. And that’s the knowledge she’llhave to live with for the rest of her life.

#overwatch imagines #dva #hanzo #symmetra #reader insert #battlewhale

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