Come back, lover

۶۟ৎ : Fem pov

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⋅°+ • ୨ There's no man that could be better than him right? You're not that blind. ୧ ‧+°⋅

After emerging from the prison Overwatch had forced him to survive alongside two other inmates—neither of whom had been fortunate enough to make it out alive—Akande Ogundimu and his charming little group of three musketeers had come to his rescue and brought him back to their new hideout. It was rather small. Nothing like the massive laboratory and impressive equipment he had grown accustomed to, but he would manage. He would do his best to help Akande acquire a new cybernetic arm, one far more modern and advanced than his previous one. Of that, he had no doubt, It wasn't as though he couldn't work a little magic with his own hands.

But first, there was something else he needed to take care of. He couldn't afford to waste time on trivial matters, but Akande's new arm wasn't going to be built overnight. So, while he worked, he left Sombra with another task: finding someone for him. The Mexican hacker had apparently decided that asking endless questions was part of her job description.

"Find this person," he ordered without even looking at her, his hands still occupied with some piece of machinery Sombra couldn't quite make sense of. She was a hacker, not an engineer.

"And how exactly am I supposed to find her?" the woman asked, sounding more bored than confused. The real question wasn't how she was supposed to find the woman, but why she should bother doing it in the first place.

"I'll pay you later," the Zimbabwean spat, giving her little more than a glance beneath his furrowed brow.

"And with what money?" Sombra shot back, completely unimpressed. "You got out of a prison above a giant pool of lava, like... two days ago."

"Sombra." Doomfist appeared in the doorway of the makeshift laboratory at precisely the right moment. "Just do it."

Sombra sighed and rolled her eyes before muttering a resigned, "Okay." She wasn't particularly annoyed, really. She simply would have preferred to have someone pay for her dinner that night. She took the photograph Doctrine had slid across the table and got to work. It didn't take long. Within a few minutes, she had tracked down the woman's social media accounts and even managed to figure out her password, which, apparently, she had reused for practically everything.

Sombra handed Doctrine the information along with several photographs. He studied them in silence, showing no surprise at what he found. If anything, he looked quietly satisfied. "Mm..."

Sombra leaned over to look through the information herself before glancing at Doctrine. He seemed unusually absorbed in the photographs in his hands. "So... who is she?"

Doctrine offered no answer. He slipped the photograph into his pocket, turned around, and left the small laboratory with a very specific destination in mind. His bat-shaped drones followed close behind. It wasn't far. He could reach the place within minutes using nothing but his flight. "She hasn't changed at all..."

A man flying through the night beneath the pale moonlight wasn't exactly an ordinary sight. Fortunately, no one was likely to notice at this hour. Perhaps some drunken fool might catch a glimpse of him and be too intoxicated to tell whether he was seeing reality or hallucinating. His drones followed him through the darkness until his destination finally came into view. To his surprise, the house was still lit despite the late hour. More than that, the place looked rather... lived-in.

Perhaps there was more than one person inside.

He hoped not. He had no interest in another man being involved, especially one who had nothing to do with him and certainly had no business having anything to do with her. His boots touched the ground without so much as a sound. Doctrine looked through the room carefully, and within seconds, old memories began resurfacing. Memories from before that damned old woman and her companion had interfered with his life.

He approached the small table beside the lamp. Its warm light fell over a framed picture and a photograph. Her... And another man, if you can call it like that. Doctrine picked up the photograph. He didn't flinch, nor did the faint smile on his face disappear. He simply studied the other man's face for a few moments.

Then, without hesitation, he tore the photograph cleanly in half, separating her from whoever the hell that man was. A man who, as far as Doctrine was concerned, possessed not a shred of the grace or elegance that he naturally did.

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I know it’s not exactly the best thing—or the greatest idea of ​​the year—but when I saw this guy and played him, I was absolutely foaming at the mouth. No, I don't know much yet; there won't be many ideas until more complete lore comes out, but I'm going to give it a shot.

Yeah, I love Doctrine, even though I despisen that tiny little shot of his, but I'll get used to it, and I'm going to main him.

Also, I have a lot of requests in my inbox; that doesn't mean I'm not going to do them (I am working on them)but I'm the kind of person who likes to post a bunch of stuff all at once and then just get on with my life.