#but reinhardt being into the futures equivalent of one of us digging bill murray

[puckish-saint]

If I may request a simple but fun idea- How do you think the OW crew sing karaoke? Up to you on how to interpret this, either separately with each character or if they had a group afternoon session to chill after a hard mission.

It’s Fareeha who comes up with theidea, when she looks out over the group after the mission, allsitting by themselves except for her and Jesse.

“Not what you imagined?” Jesseasks, following her gaze from underneath his hat. No, she wants tosay, and neither is working with him. As a young girl she beggedGabriel to let her tag along on a mission, she’d have givenanything just to sit in the aircraft on the way there, promised she’dbe quiet as a mouse. In her head it was all one glorious adventure, afellowship like no other forged in the heat of battle. But thesepeople barely know each other and Jesse, who should remember theglory days, doesn’t make any attempt to befriend them. “It’slike this is just another job,” she says and can’t chase thedisappointment from her voice. Working and living first for the armyand then for Helix Security she’s learned that war isn’t all thatthe movies make it out to be, but Overwatch has always stood for morethan that. It used to be full of ideals, of hope for a tomorrow thatis better than today. But even Jesse, who remembers, whowalked among giants the same as she has, takes his paycheck andleaves at the end of each mission.

“What’d you expect? You gottabelieve in the people if you wanna believe in the cause. And thesefolks,” He waves at Symmetra buried in a magazine on sustainablearchitecture, at Lúcio with headphones in his ears napping thestress away, at Hana texting a friend at home, and Mei who’s tooshy to make the first step. “They don’t know each other.”

It’s a well thought out conclusionfor a man wearing chaps but Fareeha has long since stoppedunderestimating Jesse. He watches and smiles and sees that nothingexcept a paycheck ties these people together. And if that’s whathas to change, Fareeha decides, that is what will change.

Most ‘agents’ of Overwatch, and shebarely can call them such in this state of affairs, don’t live atthe watchpoint. They have their own homes and lives to return to, canbarely be bothered to answer their comms when their help is needed.Apart from Winston only Mei, Reinhardt, Brigitte and Hanzo live here,because they have no other place to go or because they used to liveout of a van smelling of currywurst.

She bullies Winston into helping her gothrough a five year old inventory detailing everything Overwatch leftbehind when its people scattered to the winds. Somewhere between 480bathing suits (A box is missing, Fareeha notes, and Winston admits heneeded them for a project. She decides it’s wisest not to ask.) andan old maypole used for Overwatch’s last cultural festival, shefinds what she’s been looking for.

Brigitte helps to set things up, frompicking the lock to the common room the key to which Winston lost atsome point in his exile of half a decade to impromptu repairs on theelectronics. She likes Brigitte. They share a passion for powerarmour engineering, even in the year 2076 a niche profession, andoften spend their free afternoons comparing notes. She was around inthe old days, apprenticed to the Ironclad guild, but never made itinto the inner circle that Fareeha grew into. Now she’s right inthe thick of it, so far undecided if that is a good thing. She hopesthat with this event she’ll sway her to a favourable opinion.

And then, after facing the newOverwatch’s low budget issues and illegally downloading a selectionof titles, it’s finished.

The team bonding machine. Thefriendship device. Humbling the great and empowering the meek.

If the new Overwatch won’t be friendsby themselves, she’ll make them sing karaoke until they are.

The real challenge, it turns out, isgetting everyone to participate. Fareeha’s the first to write inthe Overwatch team chat in several weeks and that too stings withnostalgia, when she remembers the servers in the old days, full ofgroups for every member. She even remembers the language filter hermother got after Jesse joined and how long it took her to get aroundit (three weeks, after which she learned a plethora of new words thathave come in handy since).

Fareeha A.

Keep your schedules free on the 16thnext month.

Lena, predictably is the first toanswer. She may be the only one as attached to Overwatch as Fareehais.

Tracer Big mission???

No, Fareeha writes, but that attendanceis expected and she’s not taking no for an answer. Apart from Lena,only Mei and Winston acknowledge they read her message at all. Shedidn’t expect more, although she’s still disappointed when shechecks her phone again and finds nothing new. She knows for a factTalon has infiltrated this channel and finds little solace in thefact they must be as frustrated with the lack of participation as sheis. It’s time for a more personal approach.

“I think not.” Hanzo says, alreadyregretting leaving the safety of his room for a quick late nightsnack and slowly backing away through the door. Fareeha has beenlurking in the kitchen for hours waiting for him to emerge. She’snot about to let him off the hook.

“To bond as a team, the whole teammust be present.” Fareeha says, following him down the hallway.

“I am not part of any team.”

“You’re not making any effort tochange that.”“I don’t want to change that,” Hanzo stopsin front of his room, fishing for his access card. “My purpose isto find redemption, not to engage in frivolities with a band ofstrangers. Good night.”He slams the door shut, but if he thinkshe can get away that easy he doesn’t know what she’s prepared todo to complete her mission.

“If you don’t agree I’ll tellGenji you’re giving away the Nepali sweets he makes for you.” sheshouts against the closed door.

He has it open in record time.

“You wouldn’t dare.” he says butthere’s clearly no decency in a woman blackmailing him at two inthe morning. In response she takes out her phone and makes a show ofselecting Genji’s number from her list of contacts.

“Dear Genji,” she says aloudas she types the words. “I thought you might like to know thatyour brother gives away the anarsaa you put so much effort intomaking to anyone who can stomach being complicit in such acold-hearted, cruel-”“Fine, fine! I will attend yoursilly function.” Fareeha grins and puts away the phone.

“16th of next month, 6pm, the commonroom on the third floor. Snacks and drinks are available. Dresscasually.”

The next on her list is easierpersuaded.

“Of course I will come!” Reinhardtsays and promptly provides her with an exhaustive list of titles he’dlike to sing. Fareeha, loving the man like her own grandfather butknowing his taste in music, filters out the more unbearable songs sheoccasionally hears him belt under the shower. While she updates thekaraoke library and soothes her guilty conscience by telling herselfmost of the artists on Reinhardt’s list have been dead close to ahundred years and won’t mind missing a few dollars, she gets answerto a message she sent days ago.

Karaoke???? The text only reads,but it’s to be expected. The sender did so ‘from my MEKA／(˃ᆺ˂)＼'and the location puts her somewhere in Australia, undoubtedly in themech fighting domes in and around Junkertown. This is where D.Vaspends her free time when she’s not training for tournaments orwith her MEKA strike team. Through the attention she gets wherevershe goes Junkertown has received an influx of aid, from treatment forradiation sickness to basic goods like water and food. Fareeharealises more than ever that for many of Overwatch’s new recruitsthe organisation isn’t and never will be their only option to causereal change. As much as she wished it were otherwise for people likeD.Va Overwatch is a side job.

Yes, karaoke, Fareeha writes andlaunches into her pre-written speech, our conflict with Talonstretches the limits of our abilities. In order to use thoseabilities most effectively we need to build a strong unit cohesion-

While she’s still writing D.Va’snext message comes in.

When’s the party?

She’s so surprised she only deleteshalf of what she’s written in her haste to answer.

… abilities in order to usethoseyou’re saying yes?

A shrugging emoji is all she gets forhalf an hour while D.Va launches into another battle against a Junkerbuilt mech she decimates with a lot of flashy and unnecessary move.Although, Fareeha supposes as she watches the livestream, they arenecessary to rake in as many donations as possible. It’s a battletactic, even if the battle is fought in people's minds.

As the fight ends Fareeha can see Hanatexting without looking while she and her mech bow to the audience.

I make my guys do stuff like thatall the time in the MEKA program. New guys always complaining but inthe end they love it. I’ll be there

With six definite okays under her beltFareeha gets a little too optimistic. When she calls Torbjörn sheexpects him to be enthusiastic like Reinhardt and forgets for acrucial moment that he left Overwatch of his own volition.

“No,” he says and just like thather mood shatters. “You’re a good kid, but there’s nothinggetting me back in that boat.”“But ... “

Children arguing in the backgroundbriefly distract Torbjörn who deals out a few choice words inSwedish. He may have been reprimanding them, may have told them ajoke. She can never tell. While her German is passable and herSpanish approaches fluency, her Swedish has always been spotty. Theonly word she knows by heart is godis, because her seven yearold self made sure to learn to ask for sweets in every languagespoken on base.

When Torbjörn returns to the phone shehears in his voice that to him the conversation is already over.Still she owes it to herself to try.

“Reinhardt has been asking if you’llcome. He’d be happy to see you again.”

“Sentimental old lug. You can tellhim I’ll drop by sometime to deliver the new security systemWinston asked for. But don’t expect me to play babysitter for thatmovie night or whatever it is you’re planning.”“Karaoke.”“Yes,that. Too many new influences aren’t good for a man my age, child.Besides, I’m busy with a new project. Well, technically she’s anold project, but either way I can’t leave even if I wanted to. Theymight scrap the poor thing after all.”

He makes up this project purely to endthe discussion, evidenced by his ridiculous excuse that his ‘project’has followed a squirrel up a tree and can’t get down, to end thephone call. Fareeha indulges him, because she respects Torbjörn’sdecision and also because she doesn’t have anything with which toblackmail him. Win some, lose some, and with that mindset she moveson to the next on her list.

“I have sensitive ears.” is Lúcio’shalf-cooked explanation why he really can’t join the team forkaraoke night.

“Suck it up, choir boy, you’recoming.” Fareeha pokes the screen and Lúcio, several thousandmiles away, actually flinches back. It’s no secret she can beintimidating and she milks it for all its worth. If it gets everyonein the same room on karaoke night she will not hesitate to bully themthere.

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’mbusy,” he tries again and lists all the pressing matters he has toattend to. “There’s the tour, and my manager is riding my assabout the new album, I’m so far behind and I need every second tocatch up. Then there is the peace march in Timor Leste, and the RoundSquare conference in the Netherlands. I’m a guest speaker for thegraduating class at the UFRJ and I haven’t even startedwriting that speech-”“You’re free on the 16th.” Fareehainterrupts because it doesn’t look like he’ll be done anytimesoon.

“You have no way of knowing that.”he says, but a hint of uncertainty steals into his voice. She savoursthe moment, lets it breathe like fine wine until she delivers thekilling blow.

“I do, because I talked to your agentand she promised to keep your schedule free.”

His look of betrayal is nothing shortof hilarious.

“You talked to my agent?Behind my back!”

But as much as he grouses andcomplains, the deal has been sealed.

Genji and Zenyatta are in the middle ofa strike to better working conditions for omnics when Fareeha stalksup to them, jet-lagged and wanting nothing more than a hot shower andthree days of uninterrupted sleep. For almost two weeks she’s donenothing but run after every wayward child of the once again fledglingOverwatch and at this point she’ll just be glad when this madnessis over.

“It sounds like a lovely occasion,”Zenyatta says and it might just be her imagination but she swearshe’s subtly trying to push her forward and in front of the cameras.A respected member of the human community seen at a pro-omnic eventwould do them some good. Helix Security doesn’t like their peoplemaking political statements but if it helps karaoke night she’llgive the cameras her best angles. “But I’m afraid I can not joinyou. More pressing matters demand my attention and our work onhuman-omnic relations must not be interrupted.”

She counted on something like this.From what she hears on the news, the people Zenyatta supports areclose to a breakthrough. But she gets a promise out of him to make anappearance the next time she plans something like this and Genji,acting as a silent shadow to Zenyatta, doesn’t need much to bepersuaded to join.

“I always refused partaking in theseevents before,” he says, “and always regretted it. It will be mypleasure to be there.”

Symmetra is less than enthusiasticabout the prospect of spending several hours in the company of peopleshe barely knows and, in some cases, actively dislikes. She switchesbetween talking to Fareeha and guiding her team of architechs ontheir latest project, a vertical farm in the outskirts of Ecatepec.After their recent loss in Brazil Vishkar has directed its attentionto the war torn North and Central America. Fareeha is no stranger tothe places outside Native territory in desperate need of food tosurvive. Surprisingly Symmetra doesn’t argue her lack of time toget out of this endeavour.

“I do not want to,” she simplysays, followed by something shouted in Telugu sounding suspiciouslylike a curse. “Overwatch’s ideals are commendable, but I do notfavour the kind of people it attracts. I will not associate withthem.”

“You like Winston.” Fareeha pointsout, but the truth is, even if she spares some passing sympathy for afellow scientist, Symmetra has no reason and less motivation to makefriends with people who are fundamentally different from her. Theonly person she regularly talks to before and after missions is Lúciobut not in the manner Fareeha tries to encourage with karaoke.

But it gives her an idea.

“No, you know what? I understand,”she says and notes Symmetra’s surprise at her seemingly easyvictory. “Lúcio didn’t like the idea either. He said it’s awaste of time and that he’s much too busy to do some sillyteam-bonding.”

She watches out of the corner of hereyes and counts the seconds. Symmetra can resist the urge to gossipabout Lúcio half a minute.

“Yet more proof how little thisstreet ruffian knows of the world. A strong team can tip any battlein their favour, it is a well known fact.”

“That’s what I told him!” In theback of her mind some mean part of Fareeha rubs its tiny handstogether in manipulative glee. She’ll show them to deny her karaokenight, she’ll show them all. “But he was all like ‘it’s notgoing to work, no one will show up’. I hate to think he may beright-”“He is not.” Symmetra interrupts and looks outacross her half-finished project like a benevolent mother about toleave her children alone for the first time. “I will attend yourfunction and ensure its success. We must not let fools thinkthemselves superior.”

And indeed, they mustn’t.

After her resounding victory withSymmetra, she doesn’t take it too hard when Zarya provides a goodreason not to come, what with the impending doom of her country and awar tipped in the omnics' favour. One more name gets crossed off, butthe next one isn’t as cut and dry.

She sits in her quarters on thewatchpoint, this small place feeling more like home than herapartment in Egypt ever did, and hovers over her mother’s contactin her phone. They talked before, in the days and weeks following herreturn from the dead, but most of these talks have turned intoarguments or cold silence. How could you do this to your owndaughter, Fareeha has asked but every answer her mother gavesounded just as hollow as the condolences she received after herdeath.

Should she invite her? Try and mend thebroken bond between them if she can barely look her in the eye? Evenher father isn’t at that point yet. They have both grieved for hermother, have tried to move on with their lives as best they could.Fareeha remembers waking up in the middle of the night to her fathercrying, trying to stay silent, to appear strong in front of hisdaughter, but breaking down little by little at the loss of the womanhe loved more than life itself.

Fareeha crosses her name off the listwithout calling. Not now. Maybe never.

But her foray into the past has givenher another name to fall back on. Jack’s long suffering sigh whenhe picks up the phone tells her he has heard of her crusade.

“Reinhardt told me,” he answers herunspoken question. “And I appreciate what you’re trying to do,god knows this lot can improve on their teamwork, but leave me out ofit.”

Back in the old days Jack would havebeen the first to agree. More, he would have helped her organise thewhole thing and made homemade snacks to go along. This more thananything drives home just how much has changed, how little of the oldguard remains even when they have returned to join the fight.

“You’re just as much part of thisas anyone else,” she insists. “You came back for a reason, Jack.Some part of you believes in what Overwatch can be. Don’t be astranger.”

But his answer stays the same. He sayshe can’t and that he shouldn’t. Says he’s too old to make newfriends, too bitter to offer anything of value. She leaves him withthe date and the place, urges him to at least consider it. Hepromises but she can’t help feeling he does so only to do her afavour and that he will put it out of his mind the moment she hangsup.

Three days before the grand event, theculmination of all her hard work to get a dozen people who barelyknow each other in the same room to sing awkward songs, Jesse strollsinto the watchpoint, a bag of dirty laundry over his shoulder andbounty hunters on his tail. He drifts, even though Winston hasoffered him permanent residence on the watchpoint, claims he’s afree soul who can’t be tied down by obligations. Fareeha knowsbetter. He’s not so different from Jack in that regard.

“Heard about your plans,” he sayswhile they solve crosswords in the laundry room waiting for thewashing to be done. “Mighty ambitious of ya, gettin’ everyone toplay along.”

“I didn’t get everyone.”

“Yeah,” Jesse pretends to beutterly oblivious to her tone, ponders another word for ‘failing toseize an opportunity’. “Torbjörn was never hot on singing, don’tget caught up over it.”“Jesse ... “

He puts the crossword aside, looks ather with his big brown eyes.

“Y’know I don’t like imposing.”And then he does that thing where he reaches behind his ear for acigarillo he stopped carrying there years ago. It’s the sameaborted motion he made everytime he was afraid he messed up,everytime someone reminded him of the gang he left behind. Everytimehe felt like before the end of the conversation someone, evenhimself, would tell him he didn’t truly belong. It’s his safetyblanket, the sharp smoke of home grown tobacco, the flick of alighter, something to steady his hands and keep him grounded.

She takes his hands in hers when hedoesn’t find the cigarillo.

“You can’t impose on your ownhome,” she says and continues before he can argue. “This is whereyou belong, you’re like a brother to me and I shouldn’t even haveto ask you to come. If Overwatch is ever going to take off again, weneed you. You can make people come out of their shell, you can makethem talk. Without you Genji would still be sulking in the clinic,Lena would never have asked Emily out, Jack would still-”Jesselaughs, holds up his hands in defense.

“All right, shortstuff, I get it. IfI’m the only one who can save this motley crew, you got my support.No need for a speech.”

But Fareeha knows it did him good tohear it.

And then the big day is there. After amonth of careful planning, of using everything from emotionalmanipulation to outright blackmail to get people to attend, it feelslike much more than a simple get-together. She puts Reinhardt andBrigitte in charge of snacks and they have the good sense to returnwith the van filled to the brim. The booze she bought days ago andretrieves it from its various hiding places, still finding thatsomeone found and raided at least one of her stashes. BetweenReinhardt, who thinks foreign beer counts as soda, and Hanzo, whodrinks to forget the fact he’s drinking, there are a few likelyculprits. Just today, though, there won’t be any reprimands.There’ll be enough tension to dissolve as it is.

As if on cue she hears the aircraftland, the pleasing hum of Vishkar’s jets and Symmetra disembarks infront of Lúcio, Lena and Emily who play an impromptu hockey game inthe hangar bay.

“Glad you could make it!” Fareehasays before the cold glares exchanged between Lúcio and Symmetra canturn the game into ice hockey.

“Of course,” Symmetra says as shefloats past like she’s on the red carpet, rather than an oversizedgarage smelling perpetually of cold pizza and engine grease. “Iwould not miss such an important team-building event.”

Lúcio misses the glance she throws himand Fareeha sends a prayer up in thanks. While she shows Symmetraaround the base, barely believing she’s run half a dozen missionsfor Overwatch and never seen it, the other guests trickle in. Theypass the gardens and listen to Hanzo assure Genji he loved his latestbatch of sweets. Fareeha winks at Hanzo and gestures with her fingeracross her lips, vowing she’ll keep them closed. But other than thebrothers the people she invited are spread out, barely talking to oneanother. It’s time to get this show on the road.

“All right, who wants to go first?”Fareeha asks with fake cheer at the not exactly overwhelmingenthusiasm. Even Hana, who assured her she knows how important it isthis evening goes well, pops some bubble gum and stays on her phone.Lena saves her life.

“Emi and I will!”

Emily looks like she doesn’tappreciate being volunteered but would do just about anything tosupport her girlfriend. Even singing a cheesy pop song in front ofstrangers with varying levels of deathglares.

The lyrics are simple, and theirenthusiasm infectious. Lena serenades Emily offkey on her knees, sorife with theatrics even Hanzo is seen hiding a smile.

Fareeha goes up next and watches, asshe sings a soulful ballad, her guests begin to relax and mingle.Lúcio, Reinhardt and Emily chat about the ideal ratio of dip todorito, Hana shows Genji something on her phone that makes them bothlaugh, and Jesse has taken on his assigned role as oyster shucker andworks to get Mei out of her shell.

After the last chords of her song fadeout she hands the microphone to Winston, knowing he’ll be toostartled to decline and too polite to pass it off to someone elseonce he’s taken it. He chooses a song rife with science puns lessthan a handful understands, but the refrain makes Mei laugh so hardsoda comes out of her nose. Fareeha jumps to her aid and whileWinston still apologises for a mishap he’s only indirectly to blamefor, she has promised Mei she’ll go up on stage with her if shewants to sing. Together they sing the lines to a tune from a Disneyfilm it turns out everyone remembers fondly. A few even sing alongfrom their seats and applaud heartily when Mei gives a shy bow afterher performance.

At some point between Reinhardt beltingModern Talking’s Sexy Sexy Lover, a song rightfully committed toobscurity a hundred years ago, trying to convince everyone to join inand not letting it curb his enthusiasm when they don’t, and Genjiand Hana laughing more than singing through the main theme of theirfavourite video game, Fareeha slips out to get more snacks and findsmost everyone has found their own little group to engage in. Peoplewho before couldn’t be bothered to exchange two words are nowinvolved in deep discussion if you really can’t love a memory.

She’s still swaying along toReinhardt’s song, mentally congratulating herself on how well thisevening is turning out even if it comes at the cost of havingterrible songs stuck in her head, that she doesn’t notice Jackuntil she runs straight into him.

“Jack!”

“Careful!”

Between them they save the tray ofempty bottles, juggling each toppling piece until they’re all inone way or another deposited on the kitchen table. He plays with abottle cap, places it on the table, then picks it up again to traceits edges, while Fareeha can only stare. Him showing up is almostmore surprising than when he returned from the dead.

“You, uh, said I should think aboutit and ... “he trails off and while she’s dying to know what madehim reconsider after all she doesn’t press. Instead she pulls twomore bottles of alcohol out of the pantry and pushes them into hishands, arming herself with a load of snacks. Brigitte and Reinhardtbought enough to feed an army and it may not be enough.

“They’ll be happy to see you,”Fareeha says in lieu of a grand speech of family and homecoming. “Andyou better think about what song you’re going to sing.”

“I’m not going to-”“Everyonesings.”

The truth of that becomes evident whenthey return to a friendly argument centering around Hanzo.

“I will not sing.” he maintains.“No one said participation was required.”“It’s karaoke,brother.” Genji says and though most of the group have only thebest intentions, trying to include Hanzo in this setting, it’sclear that he only seeks to make a public embarrassment of hisbrother.

“I am well aware of what it is and mypoint stands. I will not sing.”

Jack can slip in almost unnoticed whilethe attention lies on Hanzo’s steadfast refusal to stretch hisvocal chords. Only Jesse gives him a two-fingered salute beforeturning his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Give it a go, darlin’, we promisewe won’t laugh.”

“Do not call me that,” Hanzo snaps.“And I would like to remind you that you also have not sung.”

Fareeha intervenes before the argumentcan get serious. She leans on the backrest of the couch behind Hanzoand says, so low only he can understand her: “Sing or I may getbored and decide to talk to your brother for a bit.”

A moment later Hanzo’s on the stage,frowning as he scrolls through the music selection. He choosessomething slow and mournful, a song from a movie Fareeha rememberswatching years ago. Two lines into the song everyone has stoppedtalking. They stare open-mouthed at Hanzo who falters under theattention, but catches himself quickly to continue what just may bethe most beautiful thing Fareeha has ever heard. Genji’s eyestwinkle with joy at his friends’ bemusement. He wasn’t looking toembarrass his brother after all.

While Jesse pretends to die frominstant love Hanzo ends his song with the words “This shouldsuffice.”, steps over the smitten cowboy and returns to his seatlike nothing happened. He will not take any inquiries into hismiraculously beautiful singing voice and hands the mic to Lúcio whoby some miracle has managed to get out of singing without anyonenoticing. He slinks up on stage like a beaten dog and Fareeha swearsshe can hear him praying under his breath. Not without reason as itturns out.

Where Hanzo may have become a musicallegend in another life, Lúcio proves once and for all that justbecause one is a world-famous musician one is not necessarily good atholding a tune.

“Oh God ... “ Hana whispers inabject horror as Lúcio and everyone else in the room suffers throughhis song. Well, almost everyone suffers.

Satya’s shoulders shake but what atfirst look like tears of despair, turns out to be barely containedlaughter. Lúcio glowers at her, clearly intending to speak achallenge once he’s done - if you think you’re so good, do itbetter -  but he doesn’t need to. He has barely finished thesong, somehow managing not to hit a single note throughout, when shewalks up, takes the mic out of his hand and picks a song with thecertainty of someone who has calculated exactly where to find it fromthe moment she saw the machine.

No master singer is lost on Satya butcompared to Lúcio, currently licking his wounds and being cheered upby Reinhardt and Emily, she’s more than good enough.

The more extroverted members of thegroup go on stage again and again as the evening draws and andeveryone gets progressively more drunk.

Jesse refuses to sing karaoke but canbe persuaded to sing an old country song by himself, something sweetand full of homesickness that makes everyone rethink their opinion oncountry. Half a bottle of whiskey later he goes up for karaoke afterall and makes everyone re-rethink their opinion on country music.

Genji accompanies his next renditionwith a drunk lapdance for Mei who blushes feverishly red and lookslike she doesn’t know if she should cry or proposition him. Winstonsaves her by dragging her and Satya up on stage to sing the Elementssong together. She stumbles hopelessly over ‘praseodymium’ andSatya somehow manages to passive-aggressively sing the noble gases atLúcio who sticks his tongue out and steals the last cinnamon bunfrom her plate.

Jesse, once sufficiently drunk, canbarely be kept from the stage for a few minutes and proves his skillsof persuasion when Hanzo finds himself by his side, singing a duetfrom a popular musical together.

At some point during the night Brigitteshows up and, drowned out by Reinhardt’s bellowed greetings,apologises for her work keeping her away until now. She’s promptlydragged into a top volume rendition of Night Rocker and can only getaway when Reinhardt catches Lúcio humming along.

It’s long after midnight when thefirst start to drag out the mattresses Fareeha kept ready, and cuddleup there and on the sofas, blankets spread liberally all around.Hanzo tries to excuse himself to his rooms but has his escapethwarted by a seemingly sleeping Jesse holding onto his sleeve. Hesettles down in the small space between him and Emily and Lena,muttering something about not being here to get attached,metaphorically and certainly not literally.

Hana has fallen asleep in her armchairsome few minutes ago, the snack bowl in her lap tilting precariouslytowards the floor where Winston has set up, drifting off to the lowconversations around him.

And then it’s just a handful leftawake, the casual insomniacs drifting into that liminal space duringa sleepover when it all quiets down but the energy of the eveningstill hangs in the air like smoke. Fareeha makes herself comfortablein a nest of blankets between Satya and Genji and looks to Jack whosits at the table an arm’s length away and gives her a tired butsincere smile.

“You haven’t sung yet.” she says,just to acknowledge him, to let him know she watches and notices.He’s not the ghost he fashions himself to be and if the way helooks at her is any indication, he doesn’t want to be anymore.

Mei blinks when he starts to sing, halfasleep and probably thinking she’s dreaming as she snuggles closerto Lúcio who throws an arm around her and pulls her closer.

Jack’s song is one Fareeha has hearda hundred times throughout her life. She doesn’t know its name orwho wrote it, but her earliest memory is of her father and himsinging it to her. Her mother sang it long before, when it turned outit was the only thing getting her to sleep. Reinhardt maintains hewas the one who chose it first but it was Gabriel who sang it best,crooning low and deep to her from the days of her earliest childhoodto the day they all sat at her bedside, her father and surrogatefathers, singing it to chase away the grief of losing her mother.

She falls asleep to it, the songechoing in Overwatch’s halls long after the last note has faded. Itis as it should be and she is at peace.