Chapter Text
“Everybody take cover!”
Angela couldn’t help but grouse under her breath as she shimmied herself behind yet another crumbling pillar, pulling aside one of their own bleeding agents with her. The man wheezed, ribs broken and still in the process of being mended by Angela. It was hard enough to heal a person, worse when they were in the middle of a battle.
“Stay still.” She commanded.
He nodded quickly, eyes practically begging her to work faster.
Anything to stop the pain probably.
She clicked her tongue as she bandaged him up. Young and spry, and far too green to be in here with them to be operating a rescue mission at this caliber. The warehouse smells of smoke and burning circuitry, mixed in with organic scents of sweat, dirt and a heavy dose of musk.
War cries and pained screams reverberate through the open space.
Angela shook her head minutely.
“Must violence always be the solution?” She muttered to herself.
"I'm afraid so, darling." Mccree said from where he knelt a few feet away, behind his makeshift cover against the gunfire lighting up in their direction. He chewed on his cigar, the butt dancing up and down from the work of his teeth as he reloaded bullets into the steel chamber of his revolvers. With a flick of a wrist, the chamber snapped back in place. Mcree tipped his hat her way. A gracious smile adorned his lips. "Well, gotta go."
He stood up abruptly and fired six shots. Angela heard half-uttered garbled noises of surprise and the sounds of bodies, both of metal and of flesh, hitting the ground. She finished patching the young agent up and pushed him in the direction of the exit.
“Leave and make sure the saved civilians are alright.”
He saluted her as he left, as fast as he could, other arm above his head as an extra guard.
Mccree was laughing in the background, still on the high of his accurate hits.
"This old dog still got it." Mccree cackled out in unrestrained delight, the southern drawl in his words stretching out the humor in his inflection. He side-rolled to another makeshift cover and fired a few more bullets, sparing a moment to glance in her direction. "Best you be off as well. Pillar's all holed now, Mercy. It won't hold much longer."
She flinched as a bullet nicked the side of the concrete and near her ear. Her eyes flicked downwards at the sizable chunk of concrete that was ripped off by the blast. Mccree was right. Angela gritted her teeth and scanned the area, the hard-light visor coming down from her halo giving her quick reads on the area.
Two Talon agents on the left behind the upturned desk.
Five local agents huddled in the west corner. Doing good work it seemed.
A couple more Talon agents were running around on the top railings.
Chased by Winston. Oh dear.
Neural links connecting her halo to her senses allowed her to highlight Winston without voice command. All vital signs normal and from the way the agents were fleeing than fighting back, there was no reason for her to focus her efforts there.
One of them had a shattered visor and she could see the terror in his eyes as ran.
She couldn't blame them (she too, would be deathly afraid of a 350 pound Gorilla chasing after her).
"Whoops! Missed again!"
Angela turned around, suppressing a groan when she saw that Lena was yet again antagonizing enemies she really should not be engaging with – a couple of Talon agents armed in their own version of Russia's syvatogors. She was sprinting and zipping all around them, teleporting here, there and everywhere, firing her little pistols at them from all directions.
The svyatogor's hands were swiping around without much inflicted damage (the bullets from her pistols not powerful enough to do anything more than minimal damage).
It looked like they were trying to swat a fly away.
Her grip on her staff grew tighter as she dashed over to Lena.
How many times did she have to tell that woman not to face tanks on her own?
Honestly.
Angela shifted from a sprint to flight, connecting healing streams at various local Overwatch agents that had followed to complete this mission, one after the other to reach the exuberant woman faster. Her face pulled into a deeper frown as she caught the tickled grin adorning Lena's face. Angela aimed her staff at a local Overwatch agent just beyond Lena while watching Lena's movements. She flicked on her healing stream right on time to catch Lena by the waist as the woman materialized right in front of her.
Mid-flight she turned with Lena still in her arms to deliver a well-placed bullet to the shoulder joint of the svyatogor following them, momentarily incapacitating it. She felt a small burst of pride.
Mccree wasn’t the only good shot around.
Her wings splayed out naturally to slow their approach to the local ally as they reached him, spreading to its fullest at the end to achieve a perfect stop. Her heels did not even skid two inches on the ground below. She flicked the healing stream off, sent the local agent a smile as he grinned back appreciatively at his healed wounds, before she looked sternly at Lena. Lena simply grinned, a grin that started wide, but faltered as she did not change expression.
"Angie-" They both duck as another bullet comes flying their way. They crawl to larger cover. "I had to. The captured civilians needed some time to get out - I had to distract."
"Literally anyone else would have been better than you at that." Angela said tersely and conjured a needle-nosed plier out of hard-light to pull out the bullet lodged in Lena's arm. Lena winced, but did not move. Not even when she applied the nanite cream. At this point she usually would squirm somewhat - guess guilt was a powerful stopper. "Where is Pharah?"
She didn't wait for Lena's answer.
Angela switched to the personal commlink between her and Fareeha.
"Pharah. Can you hear me?"
Beyond the labored breathing of her girlfriend, Angela could hear the sound of whizzing rockets and the whistle of high winds. She looks upwards and beyond the panels of the warehouse rooftop, through one of the many holes that riddled it. She spotted Fareeha flying high, shooting rockets at elevated drones.
Two of them explode as a rocket hits - a third went crashing sideways in a ball of fire from splash damage.
"Pharah: Reporting for duty." Fareeha finally said between grunts, an edge of humor tickling her words. "I hear you loud and clear. What's the status, Mercy?"
Lena interjected, voice bustling through the group link channel.
"Oh it's not a big deal-" One of the svyatogor's readied a heavy shot, the barrel of their large gun glowing red hot. Angela gritted her teeth as she strong armed Lena once again, but now with the addition of the weight of the local agent at her other arm. She held both of them tightly by their waists- "But there's a few svyatogor's. Maybe you could help-"
She pushed off and the force of her arm digging into Lena's stomach from the hurried movement sent the breath flying out of her. She ignored the strangled cry and turned on her stream, blue and roiling, at Mccree's direction. Her buffing stream pulled all three them out of the way just in time, right before the svyatogor's laser powered shots shredded the last bits of their previous defense.
She heard the sharp intake of breath Fareeha took from twenty-five feet above like it was right next to her due to her earpiece.
It sounded both alarmed and angry.
Her eyes instinctively peered upwards and locked onto Fareeha's frame as they finally land near Mccree. She witnesses Fareeha dodge an oncoming missile with a twirl in the air, before she fired a concussive blast straight at the drone.
Dead on. The last drone is eliminated.
Fareeha though was sent hurtling downwards from the blowback. Angela's eyes widen and she was scrambling to figure out what to do when her creased brows crease further. She slackens when she notices Fareeha had cranked her engines to increase her freefall into a lightning fast trajectory downwards.
Fareeha apparently, hadn't lost control like she had initially assumed.
The woman maneuvered through one of the many holes of the broken paneling of the warehouse rooftop, flipped herself right ways up and slammed the head of the closest svyatogor with an armored hand in her quick descent. Not even crashing a hand to the steel head of the svyatogor slowed her fall and Fareeha landed onto the ground powerfully on a bent knee, bringing the svyatogor down with her by her unrelenting grip on its head.
One svyatogor down, but there are three more right behind.
"It's hiiiigh-"
Angela's attention shifted.
Mccree was standing on top of a crumbled wall, hand at the ready at his waist, hovering above his holster, fingers dancing. An excited grin was on his face, and not even the shade of his hat could conceal the wild and hungry glint in his eyes.
"Noon."
She heard six shots fire and the svatogor's stagger, their joints targeted by the shots. Still, they were functional, even after the well-placed shots. All three robots continued to close in, despite their hobbled joints. Mccree grumbled, the low tones of his disappointment worming through the commlink. He dragged out a long sigh and it is a guttural sound.
"All out of bullets.” He mumbled glumly, “Pharah, guess you should take it from here."
"...Noted."
Fareeha rose from the crater in which she made, up to her full height and turned, nudging the fallen svyatogor away with a foot as she did so. She stood strong in a power stance, upright and undaunted, the panels of all her rockets all opened.
"Stand down."
The personnel piloting the svyatogors all ignored her and continued to inch forward. It is a faint, but Angela picked up the tiny escape of breath, the almost silent whistle that expelled from Fareeha's mouth through the static of the commlink.
"Fine."
And the word had never been spoken with more tired regret. Angela’s mouth curved in sympathy.
Fareeha squared up further, tightening her core and clenching her fists. She looked small, dwarfed by the massive svyatogors that easily towered over her. And yet, Angela felt pity for the men and women who helmed the svyatogor, and no fear at all, for Fareeha.
Fareeha's voice was barely above a murmur as she spoke one last time.
"Rocket barrage incoming."
And red rockets started to sail and the world lit up in fire and flames.
------------------------------
It was cooler outside than it was inside the old warehouse. The air was fresh, the grass beneath her feet soft and the sun was thankfully obscured by resting clouds. Angela breathed in deeply through her nostrils, the smell of fresh dirt and antiseptic filling her nose as she continued to work.
The woman she was helping flinched.
Angela paused, hands stilling over a tender wound. Her head tilted upwards and she smiled sweetly.
"I know it hurts, but I need you to keep still." Angela said softly, giving the young woman's hand a squeeze while staring into her green eyes. "Can you do that for me?"
She nodded and Angela took a moment to really look at her. The woman is young, younger than Lena, with cropped hair and a metal piercing on her right nostril. She flinched again when Angela pressed the cotton swab over the wound. There is a slight blush on her face now and Angela knows better than to bring up her weakness again.
She continued to work like nothing had happened.
Angela also ignored the people around them. The other folks in the town who had gathered, whispering under their breaths, words still loud enough for her to pick up. Words that were all about them. About Overwatch. Winston. Lena. Mccree.
Her.
About Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, the doctor that dissapeared one day. They cannot believe she was actually there and continue to stare like she was a mirage about to fade once more from existence.
She finished her work easily and gave the young woman one last comforting smile.
“There we go.” She said in a lilting tone, eyes crinkling. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Just redress the wound every day in the morning and night and you should be fine in a week.”
"Okay. I uh... Thanks a lot Mercy." The woman stuttered out as she rose up. "And uh..."
The young woman was rocking on her heels, eyes flickering off to the side. Angela cocked her head. The woman scratched at her nose with a crooked finger while she squirmed in place. At one point she dared to glance back at Angela and Angela immediately smiled wider, an invitation to speak her mind.
It works.
"Just want to say that you're really pretty."
Angela blinked, the words taking a moment to register. Then she laughed, airy and appreciative. She reached out and held the now bashful woman's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Thank you." She said openly and as sincere as can be. "That was sweet of you to say."
With a full blown blush on her cheeks now, the woman nodded then hurriedly walked away. Adorable, she thought to herself and picked herself up from the ground. She wondered if Fareeha would be remotely jealous of the interaction. She would tell her later. It would be cute if she did, especially if she did that small mumble of defensiveness. Angela dusted her hands on her knees and then took a sweeping look around.
Winston was conversing with local Overwatch agents.
Lena on the other hand was playing with some of the children, and quite the unfair game of tag.
Mccree and Pharah were nowhere to be found. Angela guessed that they had either retired in one of the convoy vehicles or were helping some of the other local agents scout the area for survivors. On the Talon side. They had been lucky this time and had no significant casualties on their side or on part for the civilians who had been taken hostage earlier.
Her gaze finally settled on the old warehouse.
It was in shambles now, dilapidated and in a heavy state of disrepair - much like the rest of the factory. The facilities inside, altered from a normal steel-making factory to one that pumped out machinery for Talon, was destroyed for the most part. There were no expressions of sadness to be found however on any of the residents from the prospect of having to rebuild the factory. Their faces instead displayed large shows of happiness and relief. A few were crying tears of joy.
Finally, after so long, Talon had been ousted from their small factory town.
It was a humble place, this town. Quaint. Angela imagined that the people here worked from dusk till dawn and no longer, able to retire home at a decent time to eat a warm meal with their family. Life was slow and idyllic. Not much money to go around, but enough to survive. It was a simple life, but a good one.
At least, until Talon came.
"Tell us what you know, goddamn it!"
Angela turned quickly at the source of the commotion, heartrate spiking when she saw the crowd and the glimpse of steel-toed boot crashing down on a limp body. She ran towards the crowd and shoved passerbys to get to the middle. On the floor is a bloodied Talon agent - a higher up if the clothes he wore were any indication. The other subdued Talon agents were screaming, and the comrades of the local Overwatch agent who had struck the man were holding him back by the arms.
Before he was completely stopped, he got another kick in, bashing the fallen agent on the head.
"Enough!"
The roars of the crowd and the chaos that had ensued seized immediately from her outburst. Everyone became eerily silent and no one was willing to look her in the eye as she walked towards the grievously injured man to access the damage.
She got to work immediately, tending at his wounds.
"There's no need to heal him." She hears from behind her, probably from said agent who had beaten the man senseless in the first place. "He ain't worth it."
She kept working, healing his wounds until all that was left was smooth skin.
Only then did she turn.
The agent was still bristling. Angela thinks and filed through her memories. Her eyes flicker as she remembered.
"Lieutenant Khan." Her words are delivered crisply. Commanding. "I never want to see such behavior ever again, do you understand? It is not becoming, and certainly not how Overwatch should operate. Let's not repeat past mistakes."
Khan shook his head in disgust, scoffing again.
"Shut up. The strike team was called as backup, and we only did so because we know first-hand how terrible these people are." He feinted a threatening move forwards, scowling further when Angela failed to move from where she was rooted - between them. "We had surveilled them for months and saw the atrocities they did. No one would miss them. They're all scum.”
Angela narrowed her eyes. Her grip on her staff tightened.
Her wings splayed out in accordance with her fury.
"And you are not? Even though you are conducting yourself in a manner not unsimilar to them?"
He faltered at that, face scrunching up as he digested her words.
"...It's not like they didn't deserve it." he finally muttered out.
Angela shook her head and sighed.
"Regardless, Lieutenant Khan. Your actions were undoubtedly cruel-"
"You don't get it!" He roared, cutting her off. He stalked forward over to her and Angela readies herself for a clash if it came to that. He rummaged his pocket and pulled out some sort of artifact. He waved it in her face. "We found this little thing here and we know it means something and that man-" He points an accusatory finger at the Talon higher-up-"must know something. He's just not talking and we are just trying to know what he knows and end whatever madness they're up to. Is that so wrong?!"
Khan was breathing heavily, heaving at the chest. He looked angry, but more so, he looked broken. Angela pursed her lips, her anger seeping away, replaced with compassion and something softer.
"Lieutenant..." She said once more with a sigh. "Please... That's enough."
"Yeah, Lieutenant. That's enough."
A voice repeated from behind her. Angela's eyes widened and her blood ran cold as she became hyper-aware that fingers had pulled out her gun out of her holster. She turned around, but not fast enough. The gun is held up at her. The crowd panicked immediately, giving them a wide berth due to the brandished gun. The Talon agent waved it around like a threat, the handcuffs on him now dangling only from one wrist. He then centered it past her and straight onto Khan.
"Guess the tables have turned, huh? I bet I can kill at least you before I'm taken out."
Angela treaded backwards a few steps. Her eyes flickered over to Khan. He was livid next to her, eyes belying rage and shock, a snarl marring his entire face. He caught her glance and his face looked downright accusatory.
"This is your fault." He hissed at her.
The Talon agent sent a warning shot into the air.
"Don't talk amongst yourselves!"
Khan cracked his neck and flexed his fingers.
"Don't worry, there won't be much talking anymore."
Angela's eyes widened and she sought to grab him. She was too slow to catch him however and Khan continued his charge forward, roughly pushing her to the side with an arm while his other arm reached down to his holster. Angela struggled to keep upright from the push, a flood of adrenaline entering her veins as she heard the cocking of a gun and saw Khan curl his fingers around his own gun. More screams from the crowd flooded the vicinity.
No, no, no, no-
Khan's lunge forward was aptly stopped by a stiff grip on the back of his collar, ripping his backwards.
She heard the click of another gun, followed by a gulp.
Angela blinked. Fareeha was holding Khan by the scruff of his neck, decked in full armor and smelled the familiar scent of cheap tobacco and ash wafting from somewhere past the two. She stepped a little to the left and spotted Mccree, keeping the Talon higher up hostage with a barrel to the temple.
"Y'know, when the lady said enough. I think she meant in general." Mccree drawled as he so kindly removed her gun from the Talon agent’s possession. He tossed it to her and she caught it, swiftly placing it back in her holster. "How'd you get free anyways, sweetheart?"
The Talon higher up said nothing.
"Let me go!" Khan yelled from where he was, squirming under Fareeha's tight grip.
Fareeha relinquished her hold on him after a few moments more, when the man had slackened somewhat. Khan, anger still festering however, immediately swiveled on his foot to deliver a right hook square on Fareeha's chest. The clang of his metal glove to Fareeha's chest plate was loud. It had been a hard hit.
Yet Fareeha did not even flinch.
She took a step forward to loom over Khan, no worse for wear. At where he stood, Khan could probably see Fareeha's unflinching eyes - always so serious and always glinting in an almost dangerous manner like it always was when she was on a mission. There was probably not an ounce of amusement in her expression.
Judging from the way Khan gulped nervously, Angela guessed she was right.
"Stand down."
The tone in which Fareeha delivered the command left no room for questions.
Khan withered under the intensity that was Fareeha- no, Pharah.
"He's... He's not a good person." He spouted one last time feebly, a last ditch effort to prove that he was not in the wrong. "You understand, right?"
Fareeha simply looked at him.
"No. Beating up a man when they are down... That is not justice. That is not how we should operate."
He shriveled further at that explanation and nodded.
"Right. I understand..."
"...Good." Fareeha said, then side-stepped him. She gave him a small pat on the shoulder as she passed him. “Be at ease, soldier. I know you are better than that.”
Fareeha then stopped in front of her. She stood tall, head tilted slightly upwards so Angela could meet her eyes from beneath the visor. The professional veneer Fareeha had on cracked, if only a sliver. The lines around her jaw softened somewhat and there was a twinkle of worry residing deep in her brown eyes. "Are you alright, Mercy?"
The question was spoken softly, but the concern in them undeniable. It was as crisp as the morning air in December back in Zurich, cutting through all else.
Angela smiled.
"Yes. Don’t worry, Pharah. I am fine."
Fareeha was tight-lipped as she digested her answer, eyes searching hers to ensure that it was not some conceived lie to dispel any worries she might have had. When she was satisfied with what she saw she gave a resolute nod.
“Good.” She said and nothing more.
As taciturn as ever. As she usually was when on the job.
Angela had quickly learned that Fareeha at work and Fareeha during off-hours were two vastly different people, and she was no exception to her change in demeanor. Especially now as co-workers.
(Though, she could still spot that teensy bit of warmth directed at her)
“Hey Pharah.” Mccree yelled, bringing the attention to him. The injured Talon agent was in handcuffs, held in place by two other local agents beside him. Two sets of handcuffs around his wrists this time. “Apparently this man knows something right? You down for a round of good cop, bad cop?”
And just like that the morsel of warmth in Fareeha's eyes disappeared.
“Certainly.” Fareeha said with a nod, professional demeanor back in full force. Her eyes then flickered downwards to meet Angela's. “I’ll be off now. Until later.”
Angela nods.
“Good luck, Pharah.”
The crowd that formed around the commotion dispersed at that moment, the action having already ended and not wanting to stay when all that remained was a tired Angela and an ashamed Lieutenant Khan.
------------------------------
The convoy vehicle was rickety and old. Lena was sleeping, curled up next to Winston's side, using his arm as a large, fuzzy bolster. She is snoring lightly. Winston himself was preoccupied with whatever was shining on his tablet - most likely conversing with Athena or with other agents back at headquarters.
Fareeha and Mccree were in the other convoy vehicle.
Lieutenant Khan was in this one.
The local agents were escorting them back to base.
"Mercy?" Khan said as they went over a rather large bump. He was swaying from the movements of the vehicle. Angela lifted her head from staring at her lap, giving him her attention. He pursed his lips, his chin crinkling from the gesture. He scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry about earlier. It was reckless... and cruel."
Angela sighed and played with her fingers.
"It was." She said and Khan winced. Angela chewed her bottom lip. "But I understand."
"... You do?"
There is skepticism in his tone.
She nodded in spite of not wanting too. Superficial wounds or those of the physical kind she healed all the time. The sprain of an ankle? No problem. Shrapnel embedded three inches deep in the torso? Mended in two minutes flat. Stomach and other pierced organs stitched up in a jiffy.
The hard part was the emotional scars left after.
She could heal every section of a person, or replace the sections that could not be saved for the most part. However the trauma and what they carried from those experiences? Whatever had caused those wounds to be created in the first place?
That was not something she could fix.
That took time and care that was difficult to provide.
Who knew how long it would be until all those civilians would sleep soundly without night terrors about men and women, donning black and red uniforms, barraging into their homes?
Her mind flashed to Genji and all the hate and rage and anguish that weighed down his soul, despite being stronger than he had ever been in his entire life. Every night he would be up in the meeting room in the far left corridor, stewing and brooding. There were many times that she had spent awake herself, thinking that perhaps she had made an error in judgment in saving his life.
She wondered how he was doing. She hoped he was better.
She stared at Khan, looking as tired and as haggard as she was. She sighed under her breath. Before this operation, something must have happened. Khan had done surveillance on these agents for months before acting on this rescue operation. He must have witnessed something to make him lose such control.
And she could understand.
It happened to the best of them.
"But it does not make it right."
He stared back at her and nodded. The rest of the ride was silent.
------------------------------
Angela shivered.
The locker room was cold, feeling colder still due to her damp hair.
She toweled off her hair a little more as she walked over to her pile of clothes, laid out neatly on a metal bench. Angela hummed as she put on her clothes. Buttoning the last button of her blouse she walked off, discarding the towel in the hamper and was intent to leave when she spotted Fareeha in the corner of her eye.
Fareeha was sitting on the bench.
The upper half of her Raptora suit was already removed and placed back onto the stand. The armored parts that encased her legs though, were still on her. She was planted firmly on her ass, simply sitting and gazing off into the distance. The iron ring on her pinky clinked against the metal bench as she tapped the side of her left hand on the corner of the bench. A rhythm that Angela could not place. The sound bounced off the acoustic walls of the locker room.
Angela took a seat next to her. Fareeha did not react.
"Are you alright?" Angela finally asked after minutes passed.
Fareeha continued to stare ahead, working he jaw side to side. She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. Her pinky stopped hitting the metal bench. The iron ring clinked no more. The room was silent.
Fareeha shook her head once.
"No."
"...Want to talk to me about it?"
Fareeha breathed deeply and stooped down. She started to unbuckle and unclasp the armor around her legs, methodically removing each piece with trained and steady hands. She was ignoring her in the gentlest way possible. Angela reached out to tuck a falling strand of Fareeha's hair behind her ear. She stiffened, eyes drawing up to meet hers.
They are intense and watchful and Angela knows it is because she is not altogether out of fight mode yet.
Angela smiled lopsidedly and Fareeha broke. She stopped busying herself, letting an armor plate fall gently to the ground. She rose back up, not completely upright, but just enough to rest bent elbows on bent knees. Fareeha turned her head, cocked it in Angela's direction and wetted her lips.
"Something is up."
"Up?" Angela asked as she drew her knees up, planting her feet on the metal bench. She hugged them as she rested her head on top of her knees. "Like what? With what?"
"Talon. Something bigger is happening."
And Fareeha started to explain what information they had gleamed from that Talon higher-up. It had been vague and difficult to pry out any sort of intel, but ultimately they believed that Talon was starting to mobilize for something bigger. That they had plans that would ensure that the whole world would be catapulted into a third Omnic crisis. And that strange artifact Khan had found could be at the center of it.
They still wasn’t sure though. It was a strange thing.
Winston was going to have Athena and research personnel back at headquarters take a look at it.
"I see." Angela said when Fareeha finished speaking.
Fareeha nodded, hands still clasped in front of her. Her knuckles were white and Angela’s mouth quirked. She reached out and danced a few fingers on Fareeha's shoulder, letting the digits travel all the way to her face. When she reached, she poked Fareeha's cheek twice. Her udjat rose and fall with the small pushes of her finger.
Fareeha stared at her flatly and grabbed her hand, putting an end to her childish antics.
"What?"
"What's really bothering you, Fareehali? I know that as bad as that is, that is not what is bothering you."
The knowledge that Talon was trying to rally a huge event to plunge the world into chaos was just another Tuesday. That was always their plan. Overwatch knew that. She knew that. Fareeha certainly knew that.
She pulled out of Fareeha's hold gently and swiveled on the metal bench, straddling it. Angela repressed a desire to shiver as cool metal hit the back of her thighs. She reached out again, this time cupping Fareeha's face. Fareeha leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a good second.
"You can talk to me, Fareeha."
Fareeha breathed in sharply.
"…That obvious, huh?"
Angela smiled. "Only because I know you."
The slight levity in her inflection brought a small smile to form on Fareeha's lips, if only for a moment.
"I hate it." She finally said as she buried her face further into Angela's hand. The words are half-hummed into her palm as Fareeha's lips brush against them. "I hate how some of them joined Talon thinking they're doing the world a favor by causing all this havoc. I hate it. Because in some ways, I see them to be like us. Doing illegal stuff and putting all their hard work into a cause they believe will ultimately help... I hate it."
Ah. That.
Angela remembered feeling just the same when she first heard of Akande and his rhetoric. She too, had hated how she could relate to his words, or at least where he came from.
As vile as his ideas were.
"Well," Angela started, tilting Fareeha's head up. "That's why we're here, I guess. To stop people who really think the end justifies the means… And for such a silly end to boot."
Fareeha lifted herself up from her bent position, slipping away from Angela's hand to sit upright. She hiked a leg over the metal bench as well to straddle it. They are now face to face. She stared at Angela imploringly.
"You really think that? That it’s silly?"
"Of course." Angela said. "It is an incredibly silly end. The advancement of humans means nothing if all they learn is how to be more violent, how to win wars, how to defeat and conquer… How to hate and think of a new way to destroy. What kind of world is that one? Is that really the one we should be striving for? It is a way to live, but I believe most people just want to be happy, don't you think?" She leaned forward and gave Fareeha a peck on the corner of her lips. "At least that's what I'm fighting for. A world full of smiles."
Fareeha blinked, before a spurt of a laugh escaped her.
"Couldn't agree more." Fareeha shook her head, a full-bodied grin adorning her lips, affection and respect sparkling in her eyes. "You already thought it all through, huh? You're really something else, Angela Ziegler."
Angela grinned.
"I'll show you something."
She leaned forward again, intent to capture Fareeha's lips this time. Fareeha quirked her mouth and leaned back herself, teasing Angela whole-heartedly by stalling for time. Angela lunged forward further.
"Have mercy on me." Fareeha chuckled out right before their lips connected.
Angela rolled her eyes and doubled her efforts from that stupid little pun, pulling Fareeha further into the searing kiss by the back of her neck. When they part, Fareeha looks more than a little flushed. Angela practically glowed with pride at her handiwork.
"Didn't I say to have mercy on me?" Fareeha said, wiping at her mouth.
There was a smile on her face though.
Angela flashed a wink.
"You did."
Fareeha blinked and then laughed again, shaking her head as comprehension dawned on her.
She grinned toothily.
“So I did.” She breathed out and leaned into kiss Angela once more.
And Angela met her eagerly half-way.
As they kissed, the thought does cross her mind that it is teenager of them, to be making out in a locker room after hours, but Angela thinks there could not be a better time. Whatever was waiting for them outside could wait just a few minutes longer. The world could handle the both of them not planning and researching every waking hour. Tomorrow they would rise, fully rested and ready to tackle on whatever new challenges was in store. But right now, she would indulge in feeling Fareeha’s soft lips pressed onto hers and the happy hums that came from the back of her throat.
Because life was simply not worth living without these small cherished moments.
And though Angela was Mercy, she was also only human.