@twosidesonestory //both bc this is fun

Sombra grinned and flounced over to her friend. Oh, this would be good. She put on her best accent and teased, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away, but if he’s cute, forget the fruit, n’est-ce-pas?”

She poked his nose lightly at the end, still grinning, and continued, “You all should pool your money together to buy me a session with a chiropractor. My back hurts from carrying this team.”

.

“...I have not. Should I have?” She paused and then elbowed him playfully. “Why? Worried I’ll kill you? Or should I be the one that’s worried you’ll get me?”

Angela:

Why? What happened? She’d given him a warning every time she knew they were on their way to find him. Did she miss one? Surely not. Sombra frowned, casting her gaze to the ground and trying to think of a way out of this. He was scared, hesitating. Why pull a gun on her at all?

“Bap, what happened?” she asked, voice soft and calm. Calmer than she felt, at least.

Angela looked away from the skyline before them and to her companion for the morning, studying her profile. Angela had her socked feet propped up on the railing of the small balcony and a mug in hand to keep her fingers warm in the early morning chill. This was her favorite time of day, temperature-wise. Just cool enough for a sweater until the sun grew bolder and warmed the Earth later on.

"I...almost agree with you," she murmured. "I think what defines a hero is less glamorous than what the movies say. It's not about grand gestures of saving the world from otherworldly threats or defusing a bomb or what have you. It's...smaller things, the quieter actions, in my opinion. It's helping someone pick up the groceries they dropped. It's supporting a friend or coworker. It's carpooling. Tiny things are more meaningful in regards to heroics than things televised. The ones you see in films or read about in books, and whatever the hell that mess is that they write about us, that's...that part doesn’t make sense to me."