Mercy Rule

I was nineteen when they promised me I could be a hero. Sergeant Turner must have keyed in on the bright-eyed look I gave the John Morrison poster, strategically placed over his right shoulder. Small towns across America worshiped John, my modest home in the Midwest being no different. He was a folk hero for poor kids, the picturesque figure of American values, farm boy turned superhero. Turner told me if I worked hard enough, I might get my name etched in history.

"Just like Commander Morrison," he said.

"One question, sergeant, sir. What about my family?"

"You got a wife?" he asked. "Kids?"

"No, sir. I have a mom and a brother," I said. "They'll need the money more than I will."

"We can arrange that, son," Turner said. "I admire that. John was a family man, too."

My eyes widened. "You knew him?" I asked.

Turner puffed up his chest. "Hell, I fought with him. He was a great soldier. Inspiration to us all."

That was everything I needed. Thumbprint, retina scans, digital signature. I was property of the United States Army, Private Jacob Cross. In a few months I'd be leaving the country for the first time in my life. I knew my little brother could provide for our mother, even if he wasn't as good of a shot as me, but I was still worried for them even after my boots crunched grass in England.

When my father died ten years ago, we had to learn how to hunt for ourselves with an increasingly limited amount of bullets. Tracking and hitting small game at a hundred yards for years developed my skills enough to stand out, with another recruit close behind named Davis. We connected immediately, both of us being poverty kids, even though he was from deep in the city somewhere in California. Our marks were high enough to be selected as potential candidates for the coveted eight week sniper school, starting a few months after basic training, but they needed us with some experience under our belt.

As soon as we graduated, our squad was loaned out to the London police as a part of a United Nations joint task force. Mayor Nandah was hosting Tekhartha Mondatta from the Shambali monastery ahead of their big unveiling; the new Turing Green building, a home for the omnics currently living underground. Null Sector had been making noise, especially in England, as the historic day loomed over the future of synthetic and organic bonds. The world originally thought they were a rogue terrorist organization, loud extremists without a chance to deal any real damage, but major attacks all over Europe had escalated them into a near global threat. As exuberant as the city was, I couldn't shake the feeling that something major was about to happen.

The air felt off. Tense. Static crackled and popped in the air with the armored convoy rolling by. The extra security was intended to be a show of force, to show no fear in the face of domestic terrorism, but all I could see were faces just like mine. Afraid. Out of their element. Fresh recruits from every corner of the world in anxious solidarity, arms ready to react poorly in the face of imminent pressure.

Davis tapped my shoulder.

"You hear that, Cross?" he said.

"No. Hear what?"

"Overwatch, man. They're coming." Davis's smile grew wider.

"Here?" I swallowed the lump in my throat. It felt like I was staring at the poster again. I couldn't believe my luck. Commander Morrison in the flesh. The biggest hero we'd ever heard of might be showing up today. Surely to pledge his support for the human-omnic alliance, but maybe he'd have time to give us troops a small speech. The news made its way through the ranks, and we all stood a little straighter. More speculation rose about who else might be showing up. A few recruits mentioned the newest rumored recruit, Tracer. Lena Oxton, the fiery London native, "with a tight ass."

Davis nudged me again. "There's something about that sniper chick, Amari. I don't know if she even has kids, but that's a MILF."

I chuckled. "She's definitely got something."

"What about you, man?" Davis asked. "Which of those Overwatch girls you like the best?"

"Mercy. Dr. Ziegler, no question," I said. "Prettiest woman I've ever seen."

"Not a bad choice." Davis said. "I've never fucked an angel before." We laughed together, holding each other up.

The task force stood near the Turing Green building site in southwest London, surrounded by half the city and thousands of camera flashes. Mayor Nandah and Mondatta waved to the crowd and shook hands, posing for the photo op of the century. Cheers erupted as they performed the groundbreaking ceremony, each digging their shovels into the soil and turning it over to symbolize the hopeful unity of our new future.

The static came back, drowning out the noise of the hundreds of thousands of people screaming their support. The air turned heavy and started tasting like copper. I looked around, but I was the only one who noticed the sudden change.

"Do you feel that?" I whispered to Davis.

"Feel what, Cross?"

"Something's about to happen," I said. "It's in the air."

Davis glanced at the celebration, then back at me. "You better start making some sense, man."

The tension broke. I grabbed his arm and dropped to the ground, trying to pull him with me. He leaned over, but didn't budge. Davis looked down at me and mouthed "What the fuck?"

The city exploded. Shards of glass rained down on us from the highrise buildings as the initial detonations tore through the streets. Fire raged above the sky. Multiple bombs erupted throughout London, crashing hundred year old buildings down to rubble. Sirens tore through the chaos as the Mayor and Mondatta were corralled to safety.

There was a bang close by. When I opened my eyes, I was on my side. I was still holding Davis's charred arm. I think that's all that was left.

"He's the only survivor from that area. Some stroke of luck."

"Bedauerlich."

Was that German? I tried to speak, but it came out as a weak groan.

"Oh! He is awake?"

"He hasn't moved in two weeks, doctor."

I groaned again. Two weeks. I was just watching the Mayor and a robot dig holes.

"It would seem so. This is Doctor Angela Ziegler, can you hear me?"

"You're not really an angel, are you?" I croaked out.

"I do not believe so," she said with a small laugh. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts. What happened?" I squeezed my hands into loose fists. No problem. I tried to wiggle my toes. It felt wrong. I knew Mercy's voice should have been sending shivers down my spine, but I felt numb.

"We were attacked by Null Sector, diese Verrückten." Dr. Ziegler sighed. "But no matter. You must know."

I opened my eyes. Mercy stood over me, golden hair framing the most beautiful woman in the world through her sullen face. The sea looked back at me, and I knew everything would be okay.

"Know what, doctor?" I asked.

"You have been badly hurt, I am afraid." She hesitated. "You have a serious concussion. Multiple deep lacerations. And there is... severe damage to your spinal cord."

"Damage?"

"Yes, to your tenth thoracic vertebrae." she said.

"I know you're German, doctor." I coughed. "But could you give it to me in English?"

Dr. Ziegler flashed a brief smile, but it vanished into a sympathetic grimace. "My apologies. But you are paralyzed from the waist down."

"Oh. Oh fuck."

"My apologies again, Mister Cross." Angela said.

"Private Cross, ma'am." I tried to push off the bed and sit up, but my arms faltered. "I haven't been discharged yet."

"Your dedication is admirable, Private Cross." Angela touched my forehead with the back of her hand. "But you must rest."

"There has to be some-"

"Ah, ah." She interrupted me with a gentle finger on my lips. "You must rest, Jacob. You are not without hope."

She walked away. I blacked out.

"Guten Morgen, Private Cross."

After a few days of rest and light physical therapy, the atrophy that had developed in my upper body seemed to disappear. Mercy had checked in with me every morning so far, a small comfort to distract me from the inevitable truth that she would soon have to deliver. If I couldn't walk, I wouldn't be able to serve. I wouldn't be able to go home and work on what was left of my dad's farm. If I couldn't support my family, we'd lose everything.

"I need to know, Angela."

"Oh? No good morning?" she said, with a coy smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Ziegler." I said. "Will I ever walk again?"

"My my! I see you still have das feuer." Angela grabbed a datapad and strolled over to my side. "This is good."

"So, is that a yes?"

"You know I prefer the direct approach, Jacob." The corners of her mouth dipped slightly, but her expression didn't change. "It is a maybe."

I was torn. She held the rest of my life in her hands, and she couldn't give me a straight answer. "A maybe?"

Angela grabbed a stool and rolled it to my side. She grabbed my left hand with her own. "There are experimental Behandlung. Successful operations that have been done." She cleared her throat. "But not to this degree. The damage was extensive."

"We're going to try, right?" A chill slid down my neck, ending at the base of my back. "You're going to try?"

Mercy glowed, radiating a hopefulness and warmth that I couldn't help but place my faith in. I finally believed the stories from back home. Dr. Ziegler, gliding down from Heaven, holding her hand out like a guardian angel to take you to the promised land.

"Yes, Jacob," she said. "We will try. But it is not without cost."

"Anything." I said. My eyes stung. "Anything."

"You will have to give yourself to us." She keyed a command into her datapad, and flipped it around to show me. A contract, dated today. "It will be expensive to rebuild you, but we believe it will be worth it."

"That's it?" I wiped off my cheeks with the back of my hand. "Angela, you can have me anytime."

She blushed and a smirk grew, but she didn't say anything as I took the pad from her hands. I skimmed the major bullet points. Twenty years of service in Overwatch if the surgery was successful. It took me by surprise.

"When you said 'us,' I didn't expect you to mean Overwatch. I'm not a hero," I said. "Why me?"

"Captain Amari selected you personally, Jacob." Angela shrugged. "You must have done something to impress her."

"My weapon drill scores, maybe?" I said. "I had a lot of practice shooting when I was back home."

"Is that so?" Angela's eyebrows flicked. She placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Perhaps when we are done, you will let me watch you shoot?"

I shoved my thumb into the datapad. Held it up so it could scan my eye. Whatever it took, I would get my body back.

"Super!" She smiled and took the pad back from my shaking hands.

"When do we start?"

Angela looked up at me over the datapad, eyes brimming with excitement. I almost got the feeling this was more for her than it was for me. "Soon, mein Liebling. I must begin preparations."

Along with state of the art defense mechanisms, tracking technologies, and research stations, the Overwatch base had an enormous medical laboratory that spanned the entire base's length. From the entrance, to the doors with biohazard warnings posted on the side, felt like a thirty minute ride in my rolling bed.

Mercy was already making herself busy inside the lab, preparing for the robot-assisted surgery. The blonde hair that normally curled right above her shoulders was pinned up in a loose bun, negating the chance of a distraction as she performed a delicate calibration. Her lithe body was covered with a form fitting lab coat, ending modestly with a black skirt just above her knees. The videos did not exaggerate her figure.

One of the nurses transporting me cleared her throat. "Dr. Ziegler?"

"Hm?" Angela turned around, with a weary smile. "Oh! Hallo zusammen. How are you feeling, Private Cross?"

"If I'm honest? Nervous." I took a glance around the room, settling on the full body operating table bolted down between millions of dollars worth of equipment. "You still sure you can fix me, doc?"

Angela glimpsed at the nurses to my side. "Eine Sekunde, bitte?"

They nodded and shuffled out, casting a brief glance my way as they pushed through the doors. We sat in silence for a few seconds as she gathered herself.

"If I can be honest too, Private Cross?" Angela put her fingers to her temples and squeezed, likely massaging a headache. "No. I am not."

"You better start making some sense, doc." I said. "Tell me."

"Your vertebrae are zerbrechlich. Delicate. Fragile." She tapped on her workstation and a holographic replica of a human spinal cord appeared. "This is a spine. You have seen one, yes?"

"Yeah, doc." I said. "I've seen a picture or two."

She pressed a key. The replica spine compacted. The slight bends at the top and bottom turned from a light curve into a deep curl. Multiple cracks pocked the digital spine up until about halfway through, where a large chunk of bone was missing.

"This is your spine." She sighed. "What is left."

"I'm fucked, aren't I?" I pleaded.

"Please, Jacob." Angela took a long breath, centering herself. "I was overzealous with my promise. But as I said, you are not without hope. There is still a way, but it is dangerous. All or nothing."

"You're saying I might die if we do this."

"I-" Angela paused. "Yes. I am."

"Okay," I said. "Let's do it."

Her eyes brightened. "You are sure, Jacob? This is a big risk."

I nodded. "It's not a choice. If anyone can do it, it's you. I need you to fix me."

Her face gleamed with excitement. She leant down and kissed me on the cheek, breathing into my ear, "I'll be watching over you."

"Steady oxygen levels. Normal pulse. He's stable, doctor."

"And the nerve signals?"

"Weak. But they're active. Unbelievable, Dr. Ziegler. You did it again."

"We did it." Angela's elation was ringing through her voice. "Fantastic work, doctor. I couldn't have done it alone."

"Thank you, doctor, that means quite a bit." A few seconds passed. "Would you maybe like to get a drink to celebrate?"

Angela laughed. The machine reading my pulse beeped faster. "Danke mein Freund, but I'll be busy soon enough. You may leave if you'd like, though? It has been a long day."

"Alright, if you're sure. If you need anything at all."

"I will call you, doctor. I promise."

"Okay. Great work again. See you soon?"

"Certainly. Your assistance was appreciated."

The other doctor shuffled towards the door, maybe hoping Mercy would change her mind. She hadn't by the time he reached the exit. Angela's heeled boots thumped louder on the metal floor as she approached me on the operating table.

"Private Cross?" she asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah." I groaned as I opened my eyes. Angela sauntered closer, hands loose on her hips, staring intently at me. "Yes, doctor."

"Very good. Would you move your hands, please?"

I raised my arm and twisted my wrist, shaking my fingers. "All good so far."

"And... your legs?"

The sensation was faint, but I could feel my feet clenching as I stretched out my lower half. I raised my knees, alternating between the two.

Angela squealed. "Oh! I cannot believe it!" She closed the gap between us. Mercy grabbed my head between her hands and gently pressed her lips into mine, holding us together until she took a ragged breath. We stared at each for a moment. She recoiled. "Mein Gott! Private Cross, my apologies! I do not know what came over me."

"It's all right, doc," I said. "Best bedside manners I've ever had."

She smiled. Her face returned to normal color, but her cheeks were still flush. "That was, okay?"

"More than okay. Do you know how many guys want to kiss you like that?

"It is no matter." Angela wrapped her hand around mine, pressing her thumb into my palm. She slid it across my chest. "There is one more test we must do, then."

"I can move my legs, doctor," I said. "What else could there be?"

"Virility." She took a step back, moving her hand down to the edge of my stomach. "We must know if all functions have returned."

With every word she spoke, the blood racing towards my cock intensified. Pins and needles spiked and vanished as it rose to half-mast. "You just have to promise me one thing, Angela."

"Yes, mein Liebling?'' She purred.

"After we're done, I'm going to need a second opinion."

Angela grabbed my cock, squeezing it as she inspected every inch. "Of course, Jacob. A good doctor always double checks her work."

"Fuck." I groaned as she held my cock. It had been months since I was back home, finding a quick fuck here and there between the long hour days. Even still, her gentle touch was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

She hummed as her grip shifted to stroke my dick with long motions, curling her fingers over the head and briskly brushing against my balls. Her pace quickened, forcing my cock to its full hardness, pulsing in her grasp. "It seems there is no trouble in this area."

"No, none. We should make sure, though." I grunted.

"Oh? What are you suggesting?"

"How about an oral exam?"

She snickered. "I do not believe that means what you think it does, Private Cross."

"I'll be more direct, then," I said.

Her hand froze. Mercy looked at me, ocean blue eyes glazed over. "Hm?"

"Suck my dick, Dr. Ziegler."

Angela bent down, wrapping her lips over my swollen head. She bobbed forward, taking me down halfway as she moaned on my cock. Her tongue felt incredible as it glanced against the underside of my shaft, tracing every inch she took. She raised her head with a pop, stroking my cock again. "This is good?"

"Fucking amazing." I said, lifting my arm up to rest on her back. I reached down and squeezed, savoring the feeling of her toned ass through her skirt.

She gasped. "I see you are feeling better!"

Her head dropped again and she stuck out her tongue, dancing it against across balls with short licks as she jerked my slick cock. Angela slid her tongue back to my head, engulfing me again in her warm mouth. With a gag, she shoved herself down, taking me down into her throat. I put my hand on her head, twisting her blonde hair in my fingers as I held her down, trying my best not to let this dream end early. She twisted her head around and opened her eyes, staring directly into mine as she guided herself to drain me. Her tongue swirled around my shaft as she lifted, overloading my already throbbing cock.

"Fuck, Angela." I rasped. "It's too much."

Mercy hummed in response. She increased the rhythm, throwing herself down entirely, cheeks hollow as she used me to fuck her angelic face. Angela buried my cock inside her throat as I exploded, electricity sparking through my entire body with every rope I shot. After the initial waves subsided, she drifted back up and lapped at my slit lazily begging for more. She licked until the last drop came out. Mercy released eventually me with a satisfied smile. "Impressive performance. I would call this a success."

My breath turned ragged as fatigue washed over me. Life-altering surgery and the most intense orgasm of my life had left me the most exhausted I had ever been. I tried my best to stay awake, but I knew I'd be out again soon.

"I think so, doc." I said, as her gorgeous face started to fade. I felt her hand on my face, caressing my cheek with her thumb as my eyes shut.

"You must rest, mein Liebling," she cooed. "For your second opinion." She put a finger on my lips and walked away. I fell asleep.