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It was a small thing, all things considered. It was an argument Fareeha has had more times than she can count, since she was old enough to hold a toy gun and play at being soldiers but too young to recognise the fear in her mother's eyes as she took the guns away. She hadn't thought she'd be having it again as a grown woman, with her mother gone.
“Fareeha, you can't,” Angela was saying, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the sink like it was the only thing keeping her upright. It had been a throwaway comment, mentioning the recall as her chance to finally join Overwatch, and now they were fighting among the dirty dishes and it was impossible for Fareeha not to think of the ways this scene had played out before, with someone else in front of her.
“Why not?” Fareeha said, trying to keep her voice calm, ignoring the ghosts clamouring for her attention to focus on the woman in front of her. She was still holding her plate in one hand, her half-empty glass in the other.
“For a start, it's illegal,” Angela said, taking a glass from the counter and submerging it in the water as she scrubbed it mechanically with a sponge, “Overwatch was shut down for a reason. We can't exactly start over like nothing happened, and I won't.”
“It doesn't have to be the same,” Fareeha insisted, “We don't have to make the same mistakes.”
“Fareeha, it's too dangerous,” Angela said, her eyes closing as she shook her head. She still wouldn't look at Fareeha, instead focusing on washing the same glass without really seeing it. “If something happened to you, I couldn't bear-”
“I'm an adult, you know,” Fareeha interrupted, her temper flaring. She was briefly thankful that the dishes she was holding prevented her from waving her arms, and she focused on that like a lifeline. “I can make my own choices. I can handle it, you know I can.”
“I don't doubt you, Fareeha,” Angela said, turning to face her, the glass still held in her hands, “But- Well, I hope you make your choice for the right reasons.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Fareeha asked, her temper flaring.
“Ana was a great soldier, but you don't have to-”
“Don't have to what?” Fareeha interrupted, taking a step forwards, “Live up to her legacy? My mother never wanted me to join-”
“She was worried about you.”
“And she never gave me a choice,” Fareeha continued, talking across Angela's interruption, “Don't you think I should make my own choices?”
“I'm worried about you,” Angela insisted, her wet fingers flexing around the glass she was holding.
“I know!” Fareeha said, suddenly turning to slam her dishes on the counter then taking a step towards Angela, her hands raised as if that could get her point across better. “I know!” she repeated, drawing her hands back to clench them in her hair. She closed her eyes, making a wordless noise of frustration. It was an impossible argument, one she had never been able to win.
“Fareeha, I-” Angela began.
“I know!” Fareeha snapped, lifting her head to look at her.
“Would you-”
“I know!”
“Would you stop?” Angela all but yelled, and the ensuing silence was broken with a crash as the glass slipped from her soapy fingers to smash on the tiled floor.
They stared each other down for a moment, their heavy breathing all too audible in the sudden quiet.
“I'm sorry,” Angela said eventually, turning away to find a bag for the broken glass. Fareeha watched her hunt through the cupboards in silence, then kneel on the floor and carefully pick up the largest fragments between two fingers. “You should put on some shoes,” Angela said, eyeing Fareeha's bare feet, “You don't want to cut yourself.”
“Angela, stop,” Fareeha said, kneeling in front of her and reaching across to grip her wrist, “It doesn't matter, we can clear it up later.”
“Don't be silly,” Angela snapped, tugging her hand away and reaching for another fragment of glass, “It's dangerous.” Tears were welling in her eyes, threatening to spill, and she blinked them away angrily, wiping her face with the back of her hand before reaching for more glass.
“Just leave it,” Fareeha said, “Wait until you've calmed down, you'll just cut yourself like this.”
“You're a hypocrite,” Angela snorted, sniffing as more tears began to dribble down her cheeks.
“Angela, please-”
“Don't you see it?” Angela said, clenching her eyes shut as she began to sob.
Fareeha stared at her, confused. Angela rubbed her eyes fiercely with the heel of her hand before opening them.
“Don't you see it?” she repeated, looking Fareeha directly in the eye. Her eyes were already slightly bloodshot, the eyelashes slicked together with tears. Fareeha just stared at her, as lost as ever. “Damn it,” Angela said, sighing softly. Fareeha frowned.
“What?” she said.
“I love you,” Angela said, reaching across to hold her cheek, “I love you, and I'm worried about you.”
Fareeha let the silence stretch on a moment too long.
“I know,” she said eventually, looking down at her lap. For some reason, that made Angela laugh.
“I won't stop you,” Angela said, lowering her hand, “If it's what you really want to do, of course I'll support you, but please think about it.”
“Thank you,” Fareeha said, lifting her gaze to meet Angela's. She hesitated, then began picking up small pieces of glass and transferring them to the bag Angela was still holding.
Angela smiled. It was a small thing, certainly, but it was important.