Time Has Worn Feelings Away And Made Room For New Ones
With new friends in the Colosseum, Tracer’s Christmas schedule became even more packed. Not only did she have to buy gifts for her friends back in her world but she also had to buy gifts for her friends in the Colosseum. Of course, she doesn’t have to do this. Most combatants who can go home without returning to the afterlife don’t really think about the Colosseum when it’s Christmas season but Tracer, ever the cheerful and kind-hearted soul she is, felt it necessary to give them gifts too. After spending Christmas and the following day with her friends at Overwatch, Tracer would head to the Colosseum and bring gifts to those she considers her friends there.
She has gifted Frank West antique cameras, Leon and Wick with new clothes for them to wear specifically in the Colosseum, Bond has been consistently given random trinkets she would find in her travels, both Sam Fisher and Snake have been gifted snow globes and ornaments and Scout… ah, well. Jeremy has always been Tracer’s number one prank target. So it should come as no surprise that her Christmas gifts to him tend to be light-hearted pranks. Things like a necklace with customisable words that you can put on the string, with Tracer having assembled the word ‘tosser’ (a British slang to describe a foolish person) on it before gifting it to Scout or a ceremonial baton decorated in pink hearts. They are still gifts of value, they just always carry a little bit of something that pulls Scout’s ego down as he receives them. And his reactions everytime when he tries to play it off always crack the Overwatch Agent up. Further, encouraging her to get more gifts of the like for the Boston Basher.
2024
The 25th of December had come and gone and the 26th had been spent trying to craft the perfect gifts to give to her fellow combatants. On the 27th, Tracer came back to the Colosseum to drop off her gifts. One by one, she gave each of her friends their presents. One by one, she made her way over to Scout’s room, saving the best for last. But as she arrived in front of the old 1970s-style wooden door her knock was received with silence.
Tracer: That’s weird.
Tracer knocked again and once again, nothing.
Tracer: He should be back by now. He normally only spends one day celebrating Christmas in his world. What’s going on?
Being the douchebag he is, not many of Scout’s teammates want to spend the holidays with him. He would usually just spend it with his mom and then go to work the next day before coming to the Colosseum on the same day Tracer does.
Tracer: Maybe he’s late.
Deciding to wait it out, Tracer opened the door to her room, which is right next to Scout’s, and settled down for the day. The morning went by, then noon came and went, and finally the evening sky began to set to give way to the darkness of night. Tracer sat on her bed while staring at the clock. Her feet rapidly and impatiently tapped on the floor. She looked over at the present she had for Scout, which lay dormant on her desk. She let out a sigh and rested her chin on her hands before looking back at the clock.
Tracer: Did something happen to him? Maybe something dire happened in his work and now he’s stuck somewhere and can’t make it. Maybe he’s just tired from mercenary work and wants more time to himself? Or maybe he got some friends and is spending time with them instead. Did he die? If he did then would have no problem coming here. Is he… tired of my gifts?
Her eyes rested on the gift she had prepared for him. Wrapped in festive paper was a jack in the box that, when wound up, would cause a replica doll of a Mini Sentry to pop out. The doll was sowed by her own hands based on Scout’s vile descriptions of the miniature contraption. She found his disdain for such a small device hilarious, so of course she made it into a gift for him.
Tracer laid back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling for a while before eventually deciding to go to sleep.
Tracer: Maybe he’ll come tomorrow.
He didn’t and his absence dragged on to the point she had to go back to her world to celebrate New Years.
———
Time worked in weird ways in the Colosseum. It obviously had its own day and night cycle but when you consider all the worlds it tethers together, it’s a complex mess. Years can go by in some worlds and mere days in others while the Colosseum’s calendar is unaffected by this. Decades worth of comics can be trivialized into a few passing years and a week’s worth of adventure can take months to register in the Colosseum’s calendars. It’s how the place handles all the different worlds and media advancing at different paces. (In other words the Colosseum just moves at the same pace as our world. If an anime takes 2 years to complete itself then it will take 2 years for it to finish in the Colosseum too.) It’s how so much can happen for a character and how they can accumulate more stories and information for the Colosseum to analyse and procure. On December 20th, 5 days before Christmas, the library PCs received an update on a story that has been left untouched for a long time. But given the sparse population during the holiday season, no one really found out about it. Until the main man himself came back.
It was January 7, a week after New Years. Jeremy had finally found some free time to go back to the Colosseum. While his absence had only lasted a few weeks, to him it had been 7 years. 7 long years of joy, sadness, court rulings and liveliness. For perhaps the first time in his life, Scout was able to give life rather than take it. This year’s Smissmas had been the best one he had ever had in his life and it was all thanks to the mercs he can call friends. Speaking of friends, he had brought with him gifts to give to those he considers friends in the Colosseum. Well, they’re less friends and more friends of a friend, as they are far more amiable to Tracer than they are to him. They only tolerate his presence due to Tracer keeping his ego in check. She was really the only person who would actively seek him out in the Colosseum. Looking back at all those times he tried to impress her, only to fall flat on his face, made him chuckle in embarrassment.
When he arrived at the Colosseum he was once again wearing his old merc attire. He took a moment to admire it. All pristine and ironed out, as opposed to how they actually are back at home, tucked away and withering. As he walked by the cafeteria he bumped into Frank West.
Frank: Scout, is that you? Where have you been?
Scout: Oh, you know. Celebratin’ Christmas, spendin’ time with people and all that stuff.
Frank: You made friends? Now that’s a Christmas miracle.
Scout: Aww, shucks. There’s no need for that Frank. Oh, by the way. I got you something.
Scout never gave any gifts for Christmas. The most he ever gave was one of his baubles, batted at a combatant during a past incident that didn’t involve him. He was just trying to help break up the fight in a festive manner. This gift came with no violent intent.
Frank: Woah, a frame! It looks beautiful. Where’d you buy this?
Scout: Well, I just got it from the shop nearby. I couldn’t find any of the vintage stuff that Tracer usually gets you so it may not be up to snuff.
Frank: Scout, anything from your world is vintage.
Scout suddenly remembers that Frank is from the future. Not as far into it as Tracer is but from the future no-less.
Frank: Wasn’t expecting this. What made you go soft?
Scout: Heh, well it’s a long story.
Frank: Save it. Oh, if you can make time go find Lena. She’s been lookin’ for you since Christmas and hasn’t been the same since.
With that, they parted ways. Scout proceeded to give out gifts to Tracer’s other friends. He gave Leon a comb, Wick a tie, Bond a bow tie, Sam a bookmark and Snake a new headband coloured in a red and blue pattern. Lastly, he made his way over to Tracer’s room. He knocks on the door but gets no response. He decides to wait for her in his room and begins unlocking his door. As Scout fiddles with his key, Tracer comes up the stairs. Upon seeing Scout, her face lit up. Without warning, she activates her Blink and tackles Scout to the ground. The two slide along the floor for a bit as Tracer pins Scout down by his shoulders.
Scout: Oww! What th-
Tracer: Where have you been!
Scout: Woah, woah, slow down Tracer. I-it’s nice to see you again.
Tracer was almost taken aback. Scout never called her Tracer, he either called her doll, beauty, girlie and at times he even threw back her ‘love’ phrase at her.
Tracer: Yeah, it’s nice to see you too but where have you been?!
Tracer was practically shoving Scout on the floor at this point and the Boston Basher was forced to push her off of him.
Scout: I just had a lot going on ok? Wasn’t able to make it here for Christmas.
Tracer: What were you doing?
Scout: scratches the back of his head Well, it’s a long story.
———
By now the conversation had moved to Tracer’s room. She invited Scout in, something she has never done before. In the past, such an invite would be a privilege for the Red Flanker. He always saw himself as a ladies’ man so his loss to Tracer in their Death Battle didn’t hamper his efforts in wanting to get to know her. Quite the opposite in fact, her competitive nature, one that rivaled his own, bolstered his efforts. He wanted to prove himself her equal. Of course, beyond speed, there was much more to this comparison. Tracer is proud, Scout is egotistical, she is charming, he lacks charisma, she helps those in need, he helps whenever it benefits him. Of course, he has his fair share of traits that are blatantly superior to Tracer’s. He’s stronger, tougher and a lot more stubborn. But these traits did nothing in trying to earn her favour. Nor did it do anything to earn the favour of fellow combatants. Tracer’s other friends tolerate his presence at best and even then he nearly went blind a couple times whenever Frank would shut him up with a flash to the face. Heroes viewed him as scum and villains saw him as pathetic. Few like Tracer indulged his boasting but none really saw him as someone you could call ‘friend’... except for Tracer.
For she knew that there was more behind that cockiness of his. She was never sure if it was a mask or a genuine side of his but Tracer came to realise that Scout can be more than a selfish mercenary. Of course, this realisation wouldn’t have come had it not been for Scout’s constant pestering. With time, she was able to see that this nagging was not him trying to purposely annoy her but rather trying to get to know her. So she entertained his brashness. Eventually, it led to a competitive spark that created a bond unique to the two. They would play together, make jabs at each other, “bully” each other all in good fun. But he still wanted to play the casanova so Tracer would keep him at a certain distance to make sure their friendship never crossed a line it could never come back from. That included not hanging out in either of their rooms alone.
Now, Scout was in a place his younger self would kill to be in. But instead of revelling in this fact he thought nothing of it. Instead, he simply sat down on a chair while Tracer sat on her bed, as he told her what’s been keeping him busy in the past weeks. At least, in terms of Colosseum time. Tracer was shocked to hear that Scout experienced years in those weeks he was gone. She was equally shocked to hear that he was no longer a mercenary, having left that job years ago when his boss died before his eyes, melting into a disheveled puddle while cradling in her arms the man she held great anger toward. But probably the greatest cause of shock was the fact that he had settled down and started a family.
Tracer: Waitwaitwaitwaitwait hold the phone! You have kids?
Scout: Yep, four of ‘em. Quite a handful but they’re a good bunch.
Tracer: Wait, so does this mean you’re married now?
Scout: Pfft, nah. Good for nothing deadbeats they are. I’m raisin’ them on my own.
Tracer: Oh, so how are you supporting them?
Scout: I sued the City of Teufort. They owe for all the injuries I suffered when I worked there.
Tracer: That’s… not how suing works.
Scout: Working so far. Anyways, yeah, so that’s what’s been happening. Haven’t been able to come here for Christmas cause I was having my own Christmas party. Has it really been just a few weeks? Time is weird here.
Tracer stared at the man sitting in front of her with a face of uncertainty. Before her was once a man who would’ve tried to make up a Christmas story to disguise the fact that he had to celebrate alone but the lie was always obvious because his descriptions were always too extravagant. Now, she found herself sitting in front of an entirely different man. One who didn’t need to lie about his life experiences. Who just told a story with no exaggeration, just an honest and authentic one. She could still see hints of the prideful bastard he once was but never once, in meeting him again, has he shown it. It felt surreal. No hiding of anything, no playing anything up for looks, he was just being him.
Scout: Oh, I almost forgot. I got you somethin’. I know it’s kinda overdue since I never gave you a gift before but I was kinda short on time and I never got the chance to properly ask what you would want for Christmas.
Scout presented his gift to Tracer, which snapped her out of her trance, causing her to hastily grab the gift from him. She put it next to her ear while shaking it, trying to deduce what it was. Placing it down on her lap she began opening it. Inside was an orange scarf decorated with yellow peace symbols. Tracer held the scarf in her hands, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
Scout: Yeah, I wasn’t able to get very good gifts for everyone. I promise next year I’ll get something bet-
Scout was suddenly pulled up from his chair and into a bear hug. Tracer squeezed him so tightly that he began losing air. Sometimes he forgets how strong she can be.
Scout: Okay… I get, you like it.
Tracer let go of Scout to allow him to breathe again.
Tracer: Like it? I love it! Now I just feel embarrassed about my gift.
Scout: Huh? Whatcha get me?
Tracer: Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise but given that you just gave me a really good gift I feel really bad about my gift for you now.
Scout: Aww c’mon, don’t be like that. Let me guess, it’s another one of your pranks?
Tracer: eyes drop to the side …yeah
Scout: Then let me see it. It’s still a gift.
With hesitation, Tracer placed the scarf down before reaching under her bed to fetch the box. She gave it to Scout who immediately began opening it.
Scout: Oh hey, it’s one of those windy thinggys.
Tracer: Yep, crank the lever and see what’s inside.
Scout began cranking the lever and the tune ‘Pop Goes the Weasel!’ began playing. After a while the box sprung open to reveal the Mini-Sentry plush. While not totally terrified Scout was still startled by the plushy.
Scout: Oh ho good one, good one. You wanted me to scream like a girl huh?
Tracer: You always do.
Scout: Alright I’ll let you have that one.
Tracer: What happened to you? Did a family life really beat that ego out of you?
Scout: Ha, I didn’t go soft just cause I got kids to raise now. I still keep in touch with the others. I’d be laughed at non-stop if I really went cushy.
Tracer: Hehe, I see.
Tracer sits back down on her bed.
Tracer: So you’re still the same guy.
Scout places his gift on her desk before taking a seat next to her. Tracer didn’t protest.
Scout: Mostly, but I like to think I definitely changed.
Tracer: For the better or for the worse?
Scout: I dunno. For one, I like being with my kids. On the other hand, I can’t chase people like you anymore.
Tracer: Who said you had to stop?
Scout: I mean scratches the back of his head, I don’t know if you liked it when I said all that stuff before.
Tracer: Scout, it’s fine really. I enjoyed every second we spent here. Especially the times I get to beat you.
Scout: Oh look who’s calling who cocky. We’ll see about that. Just cause I’m a family man now doesn’t mean I lost my edge. The scoreboards will still put my name above yours Tracer.
Tracer pondered for a second before answering.
Tracer: You know, you can call me Lena.
Scout: Since when?
Tracer: Starting now.
Scout: Oh now I get permission, huh?
Tracer: Well you’re not as annoying as you used to be.
Scout: Alright, fair enough love.
Tracer: No you still can’t call me that.
Scout: Why not?
Tracer: At least tell me what your name is.
Scout: I’ve never told you?
Tracer: No.
Scout: The name’s Jeremy.
Tracer: That’s a nice name.
Rivalries are spawned from the clashing of blades and it’s from these clashes that sparks are formed. From these sparks, new life is created. Where respect grows with rivalry. Overtime, and with luck, as the blades continue to strike each other their rivalry strengthens but not as much their friendship. A friendship born from the fires of passion and can withstand even the coldest winds. They may be at each other’s throats most of the time but when the chips are down they’re each other’s best back-up. While they may not know what goes on outside their worlds, whatever blood is drawn from those outside conflicts will never seep into their hearts.
Scout and Tracer would continue to talk into the night, losing their sense of time. Not that it mattered, there’s plenty of time to go around to share new stories. And definitely plenty of time to make new ones.