I have this headcanon that in order to help her focus on staying in the present, as well as relax, Mercy teaches Tracer how to do embroidery. She had no idea of course that Tracer would take to it so well, or that they’d all end up with hand embroidered Christmas cards at the Overwatch holiday party that year. (And the next year. And every year and special occasion until Overwatch is disbanded.)
Winston loves his. He frames them every year and hangs them up in his lab and occasionally in random hallways throughout the Watchpoint. Torbjorn and Reinhardt go full-grandpa and start showing theirs off to everyone else, proudly raving about young miss Oxton’s talent while Angela just beams with pride and declares that the student has surpassed the master.
Reyes and McCree exchange ‘wtf are we supposed to do with these?’ looks, until Captain Amari, perpetual Team Mom, clears her throat and gives them both VERY pointed looks, and they both grumble the most convincing 'thank you’s they can manage.
Genji is for once thankful for the bandages and cybernetics obscuring most of his face. He runs the fingers that are still made of flesh gently over the threads of cherry blossoms and distant mountains. “Did I get the kanji right?” Lena asks, smiling hopefully at him. “I’m still not great at lettering and with kanji if you get some bits a little crooked you can end up with a totally different letter, so I’m scared I accidentally embroidered the wrong word and it translates to something naughty!”
Everyone else laughs but Genji just smiles softly at thread Hanamura and manages a choked, “It’s perfect, Lena. Thank you.”
Finally there’s Jack, who hasn’t said anything. “Do you like it, sir?” Lena asks him, pride and optimism masking the hope of approval.
Jack clears his throat. “You didn’t have to, Cadet Oxton.” Lena takes that as a thank you, and Jack goes home that night and magnets his embroidered card to the damn refrigerator like a parent with their kid’s macaroni drawing until he can get it professionally framed. And no one need ever know that Jack Morrison frames and hangs every damn scrap of embroidered anything that Lena Oxton ever gives him.