Tracer becomes a little bit more quiet as the months and years go on. Her steps are slower; her smile is smaller; her words are few. She never believed she would feel the claws of time weigh her down, that she would see the inevitability of death quieten her spirit, but it does.
Morrisson knows the cost. He and Mercy are family. They both know more about each other than they’ll ever admit. He looks in the mirror one morning, noticing his hair is thinner, strands being left on his pillow more and more. The dark circles beneath his eyes never leave, now. He already died once. He doesn’t fear it, again.
Widowmaker begins to feel, alive. From walking so close to the edge of death ever since she left behind Amelie, she’s accepted who she is; what she is. But every time Mercy brings her back, she brings back a piece of Amelie. A memory; a mannerism she thought lost; a quirk she had forgotten. It isn’t until one day when she misses a perfect shot, because she feels remorse.
Pharah becomes more reckless; she pushes her limits, breaching the front lines that step too far; fighting when she should hold back; disobeying a request, an order. She feels the call of death closer, louder, but it does not phase her, it does not stall her. It just makes her want to fight more. To make her mark on this word as Fareeha Amari, not Ana Amari’s daughter.
McCree becomes tired. Tired of this fight; of the world being so angry; of fighting against fighting. He contemplates disappearing. Leaving. Travelling the world, finding something else, somewhere else where he can be anyone but himself. Because each time he returns, he doesn’t think he can keep going anymore.
Hanzo remembers. He remembers what he has done, each kill he has taken, from his brother until now. But it is cathartic for him. It helps him understand death, more. It helps him fear it less for himself, and he begins to forgive himself, finding atonement in each honourable kill he takes, while he walks closer to his own death. When it’s his time, it’s his time. He is finding, peace.
Genji - there is no change for Genji. Like for herself, she has stalled the ageing process of what remains of Genji’s human body, and each time he returns, it is just like the first time. He is just like he was, and always will be. She hasn’t told him yet, though. She isn’t sure if she will. He smiles so much more these days, and she cannot bear the thought of being the one to take it away.
Junkrat starts to suffer some memory loss. But no-one is really sure if this is somehow self inflicted instead. It’s only short term, nothing hugely major, and Symmetra and Roadhog are always there to bail him out, but some days, it gets too much for him. And those days, he just drinks. Or blows even more stuff up.
Symmetra recognises the change at once. She notices a shift within her, the minute nuances of her life force being altered as she’s brought back to her feet. But she doesn’t let it change her. She fights against it, because she understands it. If anything, she becomes more resilient, more powerful, as she begins to understand exactly what it is Mercy does.
It hurts D.Va. Her pain threshold is quite low, and every time she gets back up, she can feel something hurt inside her, deep within her gut. It makes her shiver; it sometimes makes her wake up at night, or not sleep. It comes to her in nightmares, or in sleepless nights when all she can do is think. Lucio comes around those nights sometimes, and they game until the sun is up, or listen to his latest mix. He encourages her to speak to Mercy about it - and eventually, she does.
Zarya drops her weights one day. She falters, her normal lifting weight feeling heavier - so much heavier than normal. She puts it down to a bad day. But it happens more often. She goes to speak to Mercy one day, recognising the pattern. Mercy admits that nothing comes without a price. Zarya starts adding an extra hour to her training sessions to make it up for it.
Roadhog notices that he is closer to death, every time Mercy brings them back to life. The irony does not escape him. He begins to spend more time out in the open, sleeping beneath the stars, watching the sunrise, sunset. For with his people, The Maori, they prefer to die in the open air, so that they may look upon and greet the world for the last time, for this is what they calla a mihi ki te ao marama.
Reinhardt barely notices the change. He still laughs loud, talks brusque, and fights hard. He has already outlived so many of his friends, family and comrades. He is ready.
Torbjorn notices his headaches last longer, more frequent, and even start to disturb his vision. He starts to take more of the medication he’s prescribed for them and is advised to take it easy. He promptly ignores that, knowing there is nothing about life he wants to take easy. He knows they don’t return to their feet for free - nothing, is free in this world. So he just gets back to work, a little drowsier, a little sorer, but business as usual.
Winston, like Symmetra and Morrison, knows exactly what is happening. He speaks with Mercy one day to try and collaborate with her to improve her work - so that the cost of her on-field medical support is not so high. He hopes one day that it will be able to be given without a price.
Mei already suffers somewhat from her cryostasis. She feels the aftereffects through her lack of sleep; through her unsettled stomach; through her elevated anxiety. The loss of a bit of her life essence every time Mercy brings her back is just something else she adds to the list to deal with. And she deals with it all with grace and dignity, Zarya at her back, giving her the support when she crumbles, when her strength wanes.
Lucio tries to ignore it. He can feel it. He knows it happens every time as he can see the effect is has on D.Va, but he puts up his blinkers, turns up his music, delves into his work, and just gets on with it. He is sure that he can deal with it, that it won’t bring him down - but he doesn’t want to take that chance. So for now, he will bury his head in his music, and just keep playing. Just keep fighting.
Reaper, feels nothing. Nothing but hatred at what he is; regret at what could have been; and fear, at what he’ll end up being.
SHOW NOTES
