Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Angela stood beside Tracer and Winston, reminding herself every so often to straighten her posture as they waited in the hangar. Lena was talkative as always, telling Winston a joke with a long setup and no punch line in sight. 

Angela is certain she’s heard this one before, though she doesn’t care to remember how it goes.

She sighed, staring up at the picturesque Gibraltar sunset, dusk fast approaching. The sea breeze distracted her momentarily, before her mind wandered away from the beauty of the Mediterranean to her new responsibilities.

There was a lot to do.

Answering the recall was a choice she felt unable to make for herself. Despite the numerous opportunities opened to the doctor after the fall of the organization, her emergency Overwatch transmitter went everywhere she did. It stayed in her carry-on luggage, never unpacked, because some part of her knew one day it would power on. There was a lingering obligation to the few friends whose transmitters similarly followed. It was a chapter she would never truly leave behind, and it wasn’t until hours passed of her wandering through the skeleton of the Gibraltar Watchpoint did reality sink in.

A sudden blast of air cleared the fog from her eyes, making her conscious of everything around her once more. The Orca transport touched down on the massive strip of tarmac, jets humming as they powered down. Angela put on a smile, squaring her shoulders and holding her head high for their new arrivals. Three figures exited, Winston and Lena immediately walked over to greet them. She couldn’t really help but stay a step or two behind them.

Angela’s gaze fell on Cole immediately, and realized in that moment how grossly underprepared she was for what this Overwatch recall meant. The nostalgia burned, as the past often does, and seeing how different he looked only made it worse. The two people standing beside him however, were strangers to Angela. A tall, muscled young man whose hair and beard were neatly trimmed and a slim, confident brunette who appeared even younger. Jean-Baptiste Augustin and Hana Song. They had pleasant, but tired smiles, understandable considering the battle they just fought in Busan.

 There was a twinkle in Cole’s eyes when they met hers, he grinned genuinely, and reached his cybernetic arm to take off his cowboy hat. Despite his outfit, a mix of armor pieces and aesthetic garments that changed over the years, that hat never seemed to change. Neither did the smirk on his lips or the way his hair perfectly fell into place—which made the doctor want to roll her eyes in faux annoyance.

While Lena and Winston greeted the new recruits, Angela simply stood before Cole, struggling to maintain eye contact as he studied her. 

“Doc, it sure has been a while.” He greeted, in that Southern drawl that took the Swiss doctor much time to understand. He bowed, grabbing her hand gently. “May I?” 

She nodded dismissively, irritated at his exaggerated showmanship when he bowed lower, giving her knuckles a kiss.

“How are you still so insufferable Cole? I thought surely since you dropped your cowboy name you would have dropped the chivalry act.” She chuckled, pulling her hand away. 

“Not at all miss, it’s no act, I know a proper lady when I see one.” He smiled jokingly, a carefree look in his eyes, one that certainly hadn’t been there when he was picked up by Blackwatch. Angela could clearly see how much Cole has changed, and how far he has come. It made her relieved and happy to see. The smile she returned didn’t come easy, and didn’t meet her eyes, but she smiled for him anyway. 

The doctor’s attention was taken, however, by two additional silhouettes stepping off the Orca’s docking station. Lena talking happily beside her was drowned by tremors, shaking her fingers ever so slightly.

Seeing her was something different from Cole all together. 

No longer did Angela tower over her, even in heels she barely made it to Fareeha’s shoulder height. Slim, lean limbs dressed in tan fatigues decorated with the Helix Security logo, her silky black hair falling slightly past her shoulders, gold beads harmonizing with each step. 

There was a laid back demeanor about her as she walked next to a woman with bright pink hair, bulging muscles, and a thick Russian accent. But Angela kept her eyes on Amari. 

A teenager when they last saw each other and now the resemblance to her late mother was haunting. As they got closer, the doctor couldn’t help but stare at the delicately inked tattoo under her eye resembling Ana’s. 

Static buzzed in her brain as anxiety ripped her grip on the situation. She couldn’t do this. 

“Excuse me Winston, sorry to interrupt, Mei pinged me, said she had something important going on in the lab. Duty calls!” Not giving time for a response, the sound of her heels echoed in the hangar as she left. Her cheeks felt scalded red from embarrassment, though as she retreated, her brain was unable to produce an explanation as to why she was embarrassed in the first place, or why she was so desperate to leave. 

Either way, her feet carried her to the Medbay,  without fully realizing that she was there. The to-do list on her desk was lengthy as always, and she got straight to work, re-examining the biomechanical integrity charts for Genji’s cybernetic implants. 

It was hard to say how long she stayed cooped up there—though to be fair—there was a lot of material to cover, considering most of Genji’s physical body was cybernetics. As she agonized over tissue health near his brain, the hiss of the Medbay doors opening was completely filtered out subconsciously. 

“And this is the Chief of Medicine and Medical Engineering’s office.” The voices in the medbay still failed to grasp her attention. She was shocked to see the experimental nanite treatment she has been having him undergo, with no definitive results thus far, might be encouraging tissue regrowth even after the extensive damage. The nanites were rehabilitating growth to muscles that physically shouldn’t be able to. The audible gasp that left her lips was nothing compared to the astounding results. Damaged heart tissue, ruined kidneys, collapsed lung… but, there was clearly new heart tissue in the scan. She needed to compare this with old scans to be completely certain but—

The possibilities of her nanites, their effectiveness surpassed her expectations, especially in the long term. What if…

“Dr. Angela Ziegler, in her natural habitat.” Lena and Jean Baptiste stood in the doorway, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned to the door, seeing Lena and one of the new recruits from earlier standing there. 

“Oh, hello, I am Dr. Ziegler.” She stood up, offering a hand to Jean. He smiled at her, giving a quick, firm handshake.

“It’s a pleasure, doctor.” He greeted, speaking with an African accent. “I have read much of your research, I’m an admirer of your work.” His pearly white teeth remained on display as he continued, “I have to say, I am infinitely grateful for the opportunity to work under you. In fact, I have some things I've been working on that you might find some interest in.”

“Well we are happy to have you on the team. I am excited at the prospect of working with new talent such as yourself. I hope you settle in well.”

With a nod, they vacated her office and Angela was left with her thoughts once more. With a heavy sigh, she sat back down at her desk and got right back to work. 

The fact remained, there was a lot to do.

-

Maybe Angela was avoiding any socialization with the new members of the team, but the work in the lab she was doing was of priority, so it’s not like she was avoiding anyone purposely. It simply couldn’t be helped. 

She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since the arrival of the three newest recruits, but the only person she really had been seeing was Mei and surprisingly, Jean. The nanite barrier he had engineered, repurposing her technology to create a temporary ‘immortality field’ interested her greatly. If he could reapply her nanites to fulfill different roles to this degree, there was a possibility she could restructure her nanites to perform a multitude of functions.

Based on the results of her nanites on Genji, things she believed to be impossible started to seem plausible, rather than unrealistic musings.

The sound of the  main lab door open caused her to peer up to see Winston step in behind the glass. He nodded at her, and walked up to the main desk. His deep voice crackled over the intercom, “Angela, if you have a moment, there is something I need to speak with you about.” 

She nodded, pushing the button to speak back. 

“Of course Winston, one moment, the lab is sterile at the moment, I will be right out.” She powered down her instruments, organizing her notes back into her folders, then stepped out into the entrance space. Winston stood there, waiting with a smile.

“Sorry to interrupt your work, but this is an important matter.” The scientist spoke gently, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Angela began taking off her cleanroom suit, still giving him her attention. “I was wondering if you had given any thought to my… suggestion?” 

Angela paused, the suit bunching up at her ankles.

She knew what this was about. 

“Winston I’m really not comfortable-“

“Wait Angela,” he shifted his weight from side to side, before continuing, “I want you to consider what I have to say before you shoot me down.” 

She sighed, stepping her feet out of the suit, grabbing it, and hanging it on the hook by her name. 

“I already got the diagnosis, I’m really not sure how going back is going to help anymore.” He looked at her, unimpressed, and she pursed her lips, giving him time to speak. 

“You’re a doctor yourself Angela, do I really need to explain the benefits of seeking psychiatric help? If you are uncomfortable with Dr. Nuñez, I know a few others that-“

“She is fine, it isn’t her that’s the problem,” Angela interjected, feeling frustration beginning to overwhelm her thoughts. 

“So then what is the problem? You were seeing her for months steadily before you abruptly ended it. I'm worried about your well being, and that is my primary concern. If one of our members isn’t at their best-” He sighed, taking a deep breath, Angela couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. “I just… I don’t know how to help you and I wish-”

“Asperger syndrome and post traumatic stress disorder.” She whispered shakily, looking down at the floor. “I’m almost forty, and I’ve lived my whole life knowing something was wrong with me, but even someone supposedly as smart as me-” She choked back a sob, burning its way up her throat. “I don’t know if I can continue seeing anyone. I don’t think it’s for me.” 

The Swiss woman took a few moments to compose herself, meanwhile Winston was silent, and she looked up to see a kind look on his face. 

“Angela, I don’t want you to talk about yourself in that way. You must know that nothing is wrong with you.” He gently patted her shoulder, his large hands providing comfort. “The only reason for this is for you,” he pointed at her, his tone calm and reassuring, “it’s important for you to understand yourself, and what you need. It’s purpose is to help you understand yourself better. That’s all it is.” 

She took a few more moments, allowing her breath to even and calm.

“I still don’t think I can go back. Not yet.”

“That’s okay, I want you to know that you being here means a lot to all of us. Until then Dr. Nuñez sends her best.” She sighed, busying herself with organizing her notes in the filing folder beside the desk. Winston turned to leave, but before he stepped out he spoke once more.

“Also, I am scheduling a meeting with you, Cole, Reinhardt, and Captain Amari. As veteran members, I trust we will be able to plan our next engagement with Talon, which according to our intel, will be soon.” 

She nodded, “Understood.” 

“I’ll leave you to it.” When he got to the door, he paused, turning back to her for a moment.

“Just, consider what I told you. You are one of the most brilliant inventors alive, and you are blessed with talents unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” His tone was genuine, and his expression matched.

Angela had some things to process.

-

Asperger syndrome could manifest itself in many ways, most of which had to do with behavior in social situations. 

The words Winston used specifically, about understanding herself, had made their impression. Of course, he was right, and after a little late night reading and a resolution to be more self-aware, she sat in the conference hall keeping a mental account of the people in the room and how she responded to their presence. 

Only Cassidy and Reinhardt had arrived so far, both of whom needed no aid from her in continuing a conversation. Her conviction wavered as they began talking about some pop star from the early 2000s that she knew nothing about, and opted to sit quietly, staring at the door as her hands idly flipped through her notes folder on the table.

The conference room looked exactly like the one in the Swiss headquarters, which was now rubble from the explosion all those years ago. It was proof of how Overwatch recycled most of their designs when the organization was being built, which was the reason she could navigate Gibraltar with ease even though she never stepped foot in this particular Watchpoint prior to the recall. The familiarity of the room was hauntingly uncanny, reminding her of the Swiss headquarters all too well.

-

“Doctor, could you step into the conference room for a moment? I need to have a word.” Commander Morisson’s voice crackled over her communicator. With a sigh, she left her office, nervous energy building as she walked through the halls. This was rather unusual in her three years at Overwatch, and considering that she was unable to come up with a reason as to why the commander needed her personally, it made her nerves worse.

Regardless, she found herself standing in front of the door to the conference room, unable to bring herself to enter. Inside, the Strike Commander barked at someone angrily, rooting her firmly in place. A deep, angry voice argued back and Angela immediately knew it was their Blackwatch commander. 

It was too difficult to make out the topic of their heated debate, but after a few moments she heard the ping of someone pressing the keypad and quickly paced back a few steps.

Gabriel Reyes exited, with a furious expression and clenched fists. When their eyes met he nodded at her as he marched down the hall, muttering angrily to himself. Angela released a breath, taking a few moments to compose herself before walking in. 

When she entered, the Strike Commander was typing at his holopad, clearly unaware of her entrance. 

“You… called for me Commander?” 

He looked up, putting on an effortless smile, and motioning for her to sit down. “Ah, Doctor Ziegler, right on time. Please have a seat.” 

His demeanor unsettled the Swiss woman, as if the shouting she heard earlier was someone else entirely. “What exactly did you need to speak about?” She asked, out of turn considering her position. They both knew she acted with petulance and purpose.

“I need to inform you of a development concerning your medical research. Specifically the current application of your nanite technology.” He paused, eyeing her momentarily. Whether he saw what he was looking for or not, he continued. “Torbjörn has been working on a request from the higher ups for a few months now. There's things he can do to rapidly equip and strengthen our medical response and truly elevate your caduceus staff. His design makes it possible for other personnel to wield its power without the need of your swift response suit. Obviously there are some drawbacks but-”

His voice slowly faded away, static buzzing in her head as she listened to what he was saying. “Let me see the design.” Tone dangerously calm, she interrupted him. She had no time for rank or respect. He paused from his ramblings, silent as he picked up his holovid. “One moment.” 

After a few seconds, it was uploaded to the conference table screen.It only took a few moments of examination for her worst fears to be confirmed. The static in her head deafened. 

“This… you know I can’t hand him my designs if, well, this—” she motioned at the design, “is what he intends to use it for, I cannot allow it. Not with my life’s work.” Her brow furrowed as anger surfaced. “Not to mention, we had an agreement Commander, one you personally assured me would be maintained when I was recruited into this organization.” 

“I recall that yes, but this is not weaponizing your work, it’s merely…” he paused, sputtering for a moment, “it’s merely a streamlined delivery system. So we can have more people able to administer these lifesaving nanites.” 

“It’s a gun, can’t you see?!” The Swiss woman spat  with rage. “Look at it, tell me what you see.” 

“The biotic rifle is”- 

Angela was not hearing it. 

“Be fucking serious, look at it! Scheiße. I didn’t work so hard for… for this to be the outcome of my work!” She stood up, pointing at her heart as she spoke. “You can’t do this. I cannot with any shred of reason allow this.”

His expression darkened, and he raised his voice back when he spoke. “Overwatch has poured thousands of dollars into medical research. Your medical research! The application of your tech has been priceless, but you are only one person. This fight against the Omnic crisis, and this new splinter group, Talon,” he spat, composure clearly slipping, as he stood up to match her before continuing “we need every resource available to us in the field. We’ve suffered too much loss and with this biotic rifle, we can keep our field medics and ground troops safe.” 

“Do I really need to explain the obvious?” She motioned to the blueprint. “Its a fucking gun! Do you have any idea how simple it would be for someone to write a program for the nanites to do damage when administered instead of repair? How deadly could it be? This is the first step to my life saving technology—

“Enough Angela!” He shouted, and the tone in which he used her name was uttered as if he was scolding a child. “It’s already done, it’s as out of my hands as it is yours. I’m sorry but it’s already in production. Now, as for compensation for using your design”- 

By then his voice was completely tuned out, and rage unlike anything she has ever felt overwhelmed. “How did you get my designs Jack?” 

He trailed off whatever he was saying, looking at her oddly. “What?” 

“How did you get my designs?” She repeated, feeling ready to burst into tears or yelling at any second.

“Dr. Ziegler, I thought you knew when you signed your contracts… while nanite technology was invented by you, it is the intellectual property of Overwatch, and the higher ups have deemed them fit for this function. I did everything I could”-

While she did everything possible to not cry in front of him, it was no use. She hunched over, tears flooding down her cheeks. 

She really was a stupid kid.

-

Winston entered side by side with Captain Amari, and they were in the middle of a discussion she couldn’t catch the context of. 

“Ah, everyone is here. Right on time, thank you.” 

He walked to the head of the table, greeting everyone cordially, as Fareeha walked behind her to the seat beside her. A subtle cologne wafted to her nose that the doctor found surprisingly pleasant, rendering her unable to focus as she fixated on the new presence beside her. Winston fiddling with the holovid on the table gave her an opportunity to truly observe their newest recruit. 

It seems that her attempt to go unnoticed failed instantly, because the security chief's dark brown eyes were already on her. When their eyes met, Angela found she couldn’t easily look away.

“Doctor,” the younger woman addressed her with a small grin, “It’s been too long. Glad we finally ran into each other.” The smirk on her lips seemed playful, and Angela couldn’t help the snort that escaped.

“I would hardly call a scheduled meeting ‘running into each other’, but if you say so.” 

The Egyptian woman’s grin widened, and Angela quickly forgot about being quiet and nervous.

“Well Doctor, now that I finally have a bit of your time, would it be rude of me to ask for just a little more? I would love to catch up.” Her voice was silky, to an onlooker maybe even suggestive, but to Angela was easing. Regardless, Angela found her laid back demeanor refreshing, and nothing like the straight cut rigidness of her mother. 

“I suppose I’ll have to check my schedule, perhaps I can fit you in.” 

Fareeha smiled, and they naturally turned their attention back to Winston who had his brow furrowed, Cassidy leaning over trying to assist him in displaying the presentation. After a few more moments of struggle, they screen on the center of the table powered on successfully. 

Winston cleared his throat, “My apologies everyone, this old holo technology is—well it’s old.” He chuckled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose habitually before continuing. “Anyway, let us begin.”

He swiped at his screen, the schematics of a city block displaying on the screen. “This is New York. Specifically, Midtown, near Grand Central Terminal.” He tapped at the holovid again, the screen transitioning to a detailed map of the hyperloop routes throughout the city. “I’ve picked up on a high concentration of null sector chatter, and from what I’ve been able to decipher it centers around this station.” 

“What could they possibly want over there?” Reinhardt asked, pursing his lips. 

“Well, I have a few theories but currently their objective is unclear.” Winston responded. 

“Well, if I may,” Fareeha interjected, standing up from her seat. “By all means, Captain.” Winston gestured, giving the floor.

“Thank you Winston.” She paused momentarily, scanning the routes of the hyperloop before continuing. “Based on the pattern null sector has exhibited, their main aim is essentially disruption and destruction. The hyperloop tranports thousands of people throughout New York daily. If you look on Track 19, here at this tunnel that connects this station to Track 12,” Fareeha gestured to each bottleneck, bridge, and tunnel, easily exploitable. “Collapsing a few tunnels and bridges could render most of the system inoperable.” She spoke directly with a confident tone, spoken like a true Captain, and Angela couldn’t help but admire her conviction.

“Considering Null Sector’s track record, I’d say that’s most likely right.” Cole said, reclining back into the seat and resting his feet on the table. “I was in New York a few months back, and I even rode the hyperloop myself. Did ya’ know they let you smoke on em’ nowadays?” Cole chuckled, pulling out a metal cigar case, quirking his eyebrow at Winston, who seemed to lack patience for the American’s antics. “I heard it’s ‘cuz of some fancy new ventilation tech they’re installin’ in ‘em these days.”

“Just because other places allow you to smoke indoors doesn’t mean we are under any obligation to. I don’t need to explain the dangers of secondhand smoke inhalation to you again.” Cassidy shrugged, stowing the case back in his pocket for later. 

Winston sighed, swiping at his holovid. “Moving on, considering we have a solid theory as well as location, we need to come up with a course of action, as well as contingency. This is a densely populated area of New York.” He pulled up a map of the population counts in the area, and indeed, sky rises and apartments full of omnics and humans alike webbed throughout the hyperloop system. “If a full scale invasion is brewing, we are going to need a plan to keep the civilians safe, forst and foremost.”

“This is getting more complicated by the second.” Reinhardt stated, stroking his beard. “I have a feeling we will be here a while, I’m going to do a coffee run. Who wants some?” The German asked, standing up from his seat. 

“If you could get a cup for me Reinhardt.” Angela asked meekly. 

“Of course doctor, still drinking it black?” She nodded, and with that the former Crusader made his way out, whistling happily as he went. 

Angela had a feeling he was right, they definitely were going to be there a while.

-

According to Winston, Null Sector was aiming for their attack to be staged in New York in about a month, but they didn’t have an exact day, only that Null Sector wasn’t prepared yet. They were staying completely off the grid until then.

After they had spent hours going over ideas and plans, they had a solid plan, as well as an adequate backup plan. It was good enough until they could find out more. Until then, Angela headed straight back to her lab, thinking of nothing but continuing work on her nanite experimentation. Even though it took precious time away from the lab, the Swiss woman was content in the fact that Winston was including them in the decision making process, seeking out their input and formulating a plan that included all their perspectives. It was a nice reminder that this wasn’t the old Overwatch, that there weren't secrets weighing them down and comrades stabbing each other in the back.

It wasn’t until she entered the medical wing across buildings that she realized…

“Shit, my notes!” In her mind's eye she could see them, sitting on the table forgotten. Annoyed, the blonde spun on her heel, marching back to get them. Turning the first corner, she almost plowed right into Fareeha, who was walking swiftly in the opposite direction.

“Ah, Doctor, just the woman I was hoping to run into. I noticed you forgot these.” The Egyptian woman handed her a familiar red folder, her other hand bending into a faux bow as Angela clutched them gratefully. Relieved, Angela grabbed the notes with a smile.

“Thank you so much, Captain. To be honest I was kind of dreading having to make the trip all the way back.” 

Fareeha smiled at her, “Glad I could save you the trip.” Angela turned, beginning to make her way back to the lab. 

“Wait, you’re just dropping those off right? Surely you’re not going back to work at this hour?” Fareeha said incredulously, falling into place beside her.

Angela snorted, looking up at the younger woman with a raised eyebrow. “Oh please, it's…” she glanced at her wristwatch, “it's only nine, this is nothing.” She swiped her badge at the lab door, the light buzzing green and the airlock opening. 

“Dr. Ziegler, we’ve been at it in there for hours, surely you can take one evening off.” The Captain followed her into the lab, standing by the door as Angela whisked around. “This shouldn’t even be a debate, plus, you did agree to fit me into your schedule?” She raised her eyebrows hopefully, and Angela paused, her train of thought derailing at her rather unprofessional nagging. 

A memory surfaced, one Angela hadn’t remembered in numerous years.

-

“Thanks again doctor, it’s a two day mission, get her some dinner and to bed at some point and she will be fine. She knows what to do, it’s nothing she hasn’t done before.”

“Yes Captain Amari, goodbye.” 

The blonde doctor hung up the phone, sighing as she watched the fifteen year old sitting in her office, staring boredly at the ceiling. 

When she was brought onto the organization six months ago, she hadn’t imagined that daycare would be included in her job description. Even though she was only five years older, due to Angela’s designation as a ‘genius prodigy’ her childhood was certainly abnormal. 

What did teenagers these days even like?

Apprehension aside, it was rude to keep her waiting, and so she walked into her office, a small smile on her lips that she hoped was reassuring. 

“Hello Fareeha, I’m Doctor Ziegler, but you can call me Angela.”

“Hi.” She greeted rather unenthusiastically, nervous hands fiddling with the straps of her backpack. Angela knew this was going to be one she would have to crack into. 

The meticulous side of her immediately got to work, planning what to ask to get her to reveal what she was interested in, and use that as an opening to break her out of her shell. 

Her plan was at the ready, it was time to initiate. 

“So, what kind of stuff did you bring to pass the time?” The older woman asked, gesturing with a hand towards her backpack. 

The Egyptian girl shrugged, shouldering it off onto the floor and unzipping in it for the blonde to peer in. Inside were a few changes of clothes, and to Angela’s delight… “I see you're a physical book reader, you and I are similarly old fashioned.” She looked up, into those nervous brown eyes staring back and smiled. “Would you like to see my bookshelf in my room?” 

Right then, at the mention of books, did the doctor notice the shift. The first crack broke through. 

“Well come on then, we are a long way from the barracks.” 

-

It was that night, when the Swiss woman finally coaxed sleep into the teenager on the doctor’s bed, sneaking out of her room to the commons, where she would likely sleep on the couch there. Angela sat down, pulling out her laptop and getting work done into the night.

No longer did she wear her formal uniform, having changed into red, plaid sweatpants and a gray tank top, throwing her blonde strands into a messy bun, clunky, dark framed reading glasses perched precariously at the tip of her nose. 

It was late into her night of reading, finding different things in the town best suited for Fareeha’s age demographic, mapping out a whole plan for their day tomorrow. Late indeed, the emergency frequency on her Overwatch transmitter turned on suddenly. It was different from its normal ding, a low ominous beep which upon hearing sent a shocking wave of dread.

Captain Ana Amari - KIA (remains unrecoverable) 

The message flashed over the screen, a taunting lettering so out of touch it seemed impossible. Yet it was there, true as the cries in her heart that the Captain who welcomed her was gone. 

Even worse, a thought which ignited bursts of anxiety, was the fact that the Captain’s daughter was in her bed, sound asleep. 

She immediately called the Strike Commander, unsure of how to handle this situation. 

“Don’t tell her,” he said, his voice weak sounding and tired. “Occupy her tomorrow until my meetings are over. I will take care of it.”

-

When Fareeha woke, Angela greeted her in the mess hall, where they ate a quick breakfast. No longer were they able to go into town anymore, Angela would have to make do. Guilt followed her as she withheld the death of this child’s mother from her.

“I saw one of those books you were reading was about the history of planes. Are you interested in things like that?” 

Fareeha nodded, “I want to be a pilot for Overwatch when I grow up.” 

“A pilot… that would suit you well.” Angela had an idea. “How about I show you what I’m working on right now. I think you might find it interesting.” The tennager shrugged, “Yeah sure.” 

After they ate, Angela guided her down the halls, not to the medbay or the laboratory, but instead to the forge. 

“Now, you’re going to have to keep what you see to yourself. It’s still a work in progress, unreleased technology, but I think we can make an exception for you.” They arrived at the forge entrance. “Now, it’s going to likely be loud and busy with all the work going on in there, just stay close to me.” 

Angela flashed her badge, and the door opened. 

The forge was built to their head engineer’s exact specifications, and Torbjörn spared no expense. The room was massive, loud fans pumping hot air from the forge, machines and tools whirring, workstations of several engineer’s cluttered. Angela navigated the chaos to the elder Lindholm’s personal workspace. 

He wasn’t there currently, which meant there would be no witness to her crime. He had several workstations, all dedicated to different projects. She took her to the one, covered by a tarp. 

“Ready?” Fareeha nodded, seemingly more intrigued. Angela tugged off the cover, revealing the prototype Valkyrie suit her and Torbjörn were working on.

The wings immediately gave away the suit’s function. Fareeha’s eyes widened.

“You’re making a flight suit? You’ll be able to fly with this?” Hesitantly, the teen reached out, delicately running her fingertips along the wings. 

“Not only will I be able to fly, but it will make it possible to help the injured and prevent casualties.” 

The way her eyes lit up, excitement in her smile as she examined the suit. “This… this is better than any plane. I want to fly,” Fareeha looked at her happily. “I’m gonna have a suit of my own.”

The guilt flooded back when her communicator lit up. Commander Morrison was ready for Fareeha now. 

“Sorry to cut this short, but the Strike Commander needs you in his office. With a heavy heart, Angela walked her to his office. “Bye Angela.” She said, timid, before walking in upon his greeting.

It was the last she saw of the little girl

-

Somewhere in her heart she felt indebted to Fareeha, a woman who walked such a similarly different path. So perhaps that was why it was so hard to say no, even now as the Captain took her away from her lab work.

The Egyptian woman took her to the roof of Winston’s lab, carved into the cliff edge, where they breathed in the sea air and simply soaked in the beauty of the Mediterranean. 

“Admit it, this view is worth a few hours away from the lab.” Shs smirked, confident that Angela was impressed. 

“Hm, I suppose, next time I want to see the sunset though.” At the mention of a next time, the Egyptian woman’s grin grew tenfold. 

“I can make that happen.” 

They sat in silence, and it dawned upon the doctor that even though doing this with Fareeha was sprung up on her and she had no time to prepare mentally, it was easy to talk about things with the Captain. Half the time, it seemed as though the Raptora pilot was content just… sitting there. 

“I’m worried about New York.” It was an admission she isn’t entirely sure the origin of, but as soon as she said it out loud it weighed heavy in the air. Soft brown eyes looked at her curiously, wordlessly urging her to explain. 

“Too much of our plan depends on things that are unsure.” Angela expressed, “I hate that. A plan shouldn’t rely on unknowns. Hell, we aren’t even sure what day it’s going to happen. How are we expected to function off of unknowns?” It frustrated her to no end. 

While she vented about all the ways their plans could go wrong, Fareeha listened attentively. 

“Undoubtedly, you are right.” Fareeha agreed, leaning back on her arms as she stared at the night sky. “But, however concrete the details, however meticulous the plan, we can’t plan for everything— life has a way of taking a sledgehammer through one’s plans anyway.”

Angela deemed that response unsatisfactory, exhibited by a sour facial expression, one that made Fareeha laugh heartily.

“You may not be able to plan for everything, Doctor, but you can certainly be prepared. You’re gonna have better luck on a mission for which you are well prepared, not for which you have well planned.” 

“I hate the sense that makes.” She said, crossing her arms petulantly. “But it’s sound advice. I will think about it.” 

The wind and the water and words they spoke filled the air late into the night, but Angela found that talking to Fareeha was a new found joy that she would not let go of. They fell into rhythm, Fareeha dragging her out of the lab after a long day, the Gibraltar night the sole accompanist to their talks. 

Angela found herself feeling charmed—by their talks of course—but primarily Fareeha herself. Her confidence, her wisdom, her body, everything that revealed itself the more Angela learned about the former Helix Security Chief, aided to these feelings of happiness around her.

And more shockingly—despite being previously troubled by her condition—the doctor felt it didn’t matter. 

Content was all she felt.

Chapter Text

If a stranger passing by saw the look Angela was giving to the screen of her holovid, they would likely steer clear, an expression of pure fury written on her face. However, as luck would have it, it wasn’t just anybody passing by, it had to be Cole Cassidy finding himself in her proximity at the height of her anger. 

The Swiss woman was currently waiting on her coffee to be ready in the mess hall, examining each line of code in the software she was developing, unable to find the error. This particular bug has been delaying progress for long enough, rapidly grating at her patience. 

Sensitive to a potential detonation, most people stayed clear of her when she showed her prodigal genius failing. 

Yet, ever a thorn in her side, Cassidy meandered up, eyeing her with an eyebrow raised. Her back was turned, facing the agonizingly slow drip of coffee streaming into the pot, muttering curses in German. 

“Howdy Doc,” he greeted, a knowing grin on his lips. 

“Cole,” she muttered, thanking whatever deity that the slow drip of coffee that was antagonizing her stopped. She placed her holovid and files down on the counter, grabbing herself her mug from the cabinet above and pouring herself caffeine up to the brim. 

“Ya know doc, someone once told me that the caffeine cut off before you go to bed is about six to eight hours.” He checked an imaginary watch, “So unless you plan on going to bed at, oh I dunno know, six in the morning, maybe you oughta slow down a bit.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I have work to do.” She tucked the holovid and files under her arm, grabbing her mug in one hand and the rest of the pot in the other. He gave her a challenging look, one he must have known she couldn’t back down from in her agitated state.

“Do you remember the hell you gave me about sleep cycle’s and circular rhythm—“

“Circadian rhythm.” 

Cole nodded, “Yeah, that, goin’ on about how Blackwatch was overworkin’ me and such?” 

Angela didn’t like where this was going.

“It’s important that what I’m doing gets done.” For a split second, the cost of her letting these setbacks get to her flashed in her mind. It was hard not to imagine a lifeless Cole, bleeding out, damaged beyond repair. 

She was going to turn the tide against war. It would have no more power over her. 

“Whatcha workin’ on anyway? How many medical breakthroughs does a genius need to make in her lifetime.” He jested, but the words felt hollow in her ears.

Just one more…

She thought as she told him goodnight, taking her coffee with her back to the lab. Her mind wandered to Fareeha, a topic her brain stubbornly refused to move on from. The Captain was away with Genji for a few weeks. Winston suspected the attack in New York was coming closer, and already anonymously notified the authorities there of his suspicion. The duo was sent on reconnaissance until then. 

The team hadn’t been in the field together since they squashed the Null Sector invasion in Paris. It seemed the enemy took time at their show of force to recalculate their efforts, and the more Angela thought about their upcoming conflict in Midtown, the more uneasy she felt. 

A nagging stress, about going back to active duty, made her irritable and restless. Paired with Fareeha being gone, the person who so effortlessly whisked her away from that stress, and she fell back on old habits. 

The Swiss woman knew she was doing it too, but burying herself in her work was easier than being buried by thoughts of her shortcomings.

So, with a tired hunch in her shoulder, mind buzzing awake with a second wind from her coffee, she dove back into those stubborn lines of code, ready to destroy any roadblock in her way.

-

Angela clutched the grip of her combat pistol, staring at it in its holster on the hip of her Valkyrie suit. It was this same pistol that Gabriel Reyes had shoved into her hands when he dragged her to the shooting range, when she was still developing her nanites and swift response suit. 

She remembers his solid stance, grim expression, and gravelly voice calmly instructing her as she shot a gun for the first time. 

“If you intend on being in the field, giving medical attention to our troops, you’re going to want to know how to use this.” He said rather casually, flipping the switch to bring the target back from down range. 

He examined the bullet holes, much less sporadic from the first magazine she unloaded into the cardboard, certainly a step up. “Well, you got most of them concentrated into an area about the size of my hand.” He stretched out his fingers, placing his gloved hand on the cardboard. A few stray bullet holes remained uncovered by his large hand. “You learn quick Doc, must be those surgeon hands of yours.” 

She shrugged, but was eager to put the pistol down and be done with it. If he noticed her skittishness he didn’t show it. 

“Now—“ He squeezed his hand into a tight fist, pounding on the target's heart. “I want you to put all your bullets in a hole the size of my fist. Let’s go again.”

He replaced the target, leaving no room for objection, and they shot again and again until Angela’s muscles from the tips of her fingers to her back and feet were burning from absorbing all the force.

-

Years of deployment after that, Angela hadn’t removed the gun from its holster in the field once. The doctor hadn’t ever needed to. And still, whenever they would find themselves at the same base, Gabe always found time between their months apart to take her to the range. Most of the time he was silent, watching her. Sometimes they spoke about trivial things, she vaguely remembers him mentioning his family once, but her biggest impression of that time was when he talked about the first time he killed someone. 

“You’ve been putting me through all this training…” She said, reloading the pistol with practiced ease, “I have to ask, Commander Morrison put you up to this?” 

His face darkened at the mention of the Strike Commander, and the Blackwatch Commander’s face became unreadably stone-like. There was a beat of silence between them, as Angela readied her feet, gripping the pistol and raising it, unloading the clip on the target at twenty five meters. 

“He doesn’t know I’m doing this. I did it because it’s necessary.” 

Angela narrowed her eyes at him, doing everything to show him her dissatisfaction with that answer. 

He sighed, and pulled out his own pistol from the holster under his jacket, and stepped into the lane besides hers. 

“Did you ever hear about how me and Jack met?” 

He sent a few bullets into the target, rapidly pulling the trigger. Even with ear protection, the noise of his old desert eagle thundered in her brain. 

“You met in the US military’s soldier enhancement program, at the beginning of the crisis, no?” 

Gabe shook his head, “Technically that’s true.” More shots rang out, until the trigger clicked empty, and he sighed, unloading the magazine and replacing it. “We actually met once before that, when we were both kids, seventeen or eighteen I think.” The gun clicked as he cocked back the barrel. “I was still living in Los Angeles at the time. He must have been visiting with family I think. It was late at night, my buddy and I saw him in a fight in an alley.” Gabe chuckled, resetting his stance. “It was three on one, and the little pipsqueak was tryna fight the muggers off. Me and my friend had our try at stepping in. Decided to even the numbers, to play the hero.”

Gabe turned to face her, a scowl on his lips. “One of the muggers pulled out a gun. Shot my friend José in the neck.” A single pull of the trigger made Angela’s shoulders jump. It echoed alone, as if it was mourning. “Now I had been in scraps before, but nothing like that. I was caught like a mouse in a trap, unprepared and out of my league.” 

Gabe turned the gun in his hands, clicking on the safety as he put the gun down and sighed. 

“Not sure if it was the shock of my friend choking on his blood on the floor, but Jack got over his shock and tackled the guy with the gun, sending it right to my feet.” Angela could almost imagine them, before the soldier enhancement, before the military, Gabe and Jack as kids…

“I picked it up, as the mugger's buddies helped grapple Jack off to the floor, and as they beat him close to death I made a choice I was never prepared to make.” He took off his ear plugs, and walked to the entrance of the range, back facing her.

“The first time you take a life, there is nothing that can prepare you for it. I guess this is my way of trying to ease your burden, to keep it on your mind so you won’t be alone. Because you will face death—“ He turned and looked at her sadly, “And you will come to know him well.”

Then he left.

-

The memory surfaced uncomfortably, a violent tilt of the Orca transport snapping her out of the memory. Discomfort numbed her thoughts as she remembered those words he spoke to her all those years ago.

Tracer’s voice over the intercom stole her attention.

“Sorry about that everybody, a bit of turbulence as I’m sure you guessed. Anyway we will be landing downtown in about ten minutes.” 

The ten minute warning was standard to give everyone enough time to get into their gear, but a quick look around showed it was unnecessary. Reinhardt got onto the transport with his armor on, hulking the massive metal plates around the ship for four hours. Brigitte, after running diagnostics on Reinhardt’s armor, donned her own immediately after. Zarya and Dva had their suits on, though Angela presumed the young Korean’s mech was on the other transport, with Echo. She had watched an antsy Jean put his armor on and then take it off twice. 

There was a tension in the room, at the prospect of their first field assignment as a coordinated group. As Overwatch. 

Angela herself had donned her suit the minute the emergency frequency pinged. Winston’s estimation had been two weeks off. Null Sector was in New York now, and Genji and Fareeha had reported Talon’s presence as well. 

After a few moments, Tracer announced they were landing, and the explosions they all heard as they reduced altitude were deafening. 

“All right everybody, we have a good plan, stick to it and watch each other’s back. Let’s give them our best!” Reinhardt thundered, as he donned his helmet and hefted his hammer. Everyone braced for landing, the time for the door to open feeling like an eternity. Eventually the cargo ramp cracked up, the blazing sun peeking through as it slowly lowered. Tracer had parked them on a high rise a couple clocks from the main terminal, where massive plumes of thick dark smoke were billowing into the sky. 

With a gleeful roar, Reinhardt was the first to charge forward, leaping off the edge of the building, height be damned, as the massive jets on his suit fired up. The rest of the crew, equally fired up by his display, charged after them, and they immediately got into formation.

It was time to work. 

-

The group made it through the empty streets, as they got closer to the terminal, rubble and evidence of the explosions were everywhere, but it seemed most of the people were able to evacuate before things got serious. 

Winston’s warning had been heeded.

A familiar blast in the sky caused her heart to still, and Angela saw a glint of blue and a flash of green. Fareeha and Genji had safely made it to the rendezvous. 

“Glad to see you all caught up.” Her voice crackled into their earpieces, a welcome interruption.

“Our eyes in the sky. Glad you could make it. Where are we needed?” Reinhardt greeted happily.

“Dva, Zarya, and Reinhardt, we need you to cut off the main force marching to the terminal from the east. Winston and Genji can handle the ones who made it inside, everyone else I need you north along the track where more of their forces have congregated.” Everyone immediately carried out Fareeha’s plan, and Angela couldn’t help but admire how confidently she took control. 

Their tankiest members broke off to establish a line of defense against the oncoming forces, and the rest of them continued towards the explosions. 

“I have to land, they are bringing in anti-air cannon’s and snipers. We need to take back air superiority so Echo and I can do our job.” 

She heard another jet blast from above, and Fareeha dropped out of the sky, landing ahead a  block up the street. Once they caught up, they moved as a unit on foot. The road ahead curved down into a steep hill, with large buildings on either side connected by a pavilion above the road. Null sector tanks had been placed on top of the pavilion, barely giving them time to find cover back around the corner, as they reigned lead at the choke point. 

“Shit. We need to take those machine guns out.” Genji nodded at them, “Cover me, I can get up there to draw fire away, and as soon as I do, send rockets their way.” He ran up and leaped inhumanly to the side of the building, spider crawling up the side out of sight. Once high enough, in a blur of green, he was on top of them, the grinding of his sword through metal and resumed machine gun fire audible. Fareeha took off, just high enough to get an angle, her jets a signal for Genji to dash away, and she launched a rocket at the pavilion, blowing up the remaining robots. With the path forward clear, they continued. Winston and Genji quickly got ahead of them, already at the entrance to the station by the time they made it up the hill. Winston had put down a shield generator and the duo were quite effective in clearing out any straggling resistance.

“Alright, let's keep going up the track north.” Fareeha pointed to the plume of smoke coming from somewhere behind the terminal.

The remaining group of most mobile agents quickly moved around to the opposite end of the terminal. It was here where people seemed to get caught in the initial attack. The smell of blood was mixed in the sulfuric aroma of lit gunpowder and explosives, the dust in the air suffocating from all the rubble and fire. 

Angela and Jean nodded to each other, while Tracer, Echo and Pharah pushed forward. It was in this moment, the heat of conflict, where everything else buzzing in her mind fell away. There was one goal dominating her mind, to save as many lives as possible. 

For a second, she took a deep breath, inhaling all the foul smells and chaos, internalizing it all, and it was at that moment she heard faint gasping and pained grunts. Muscle memory, she unfurled the wings of the Valkyrie suit, boosting herself forward past burning buildings and rubble, to the noise down the street. She landed beaide the hyperloop track bridge, which had been blown to pieces with people still stuck in the train itself, which derailed and fell down into the street below. 

Angela kicked a window on the back that had already fractured from the explosion, making her way quickly inside. Before she jumped in she saw the blue form of Jean doing the same in the next car over. A smile spread on her lips.

After crawling through seats in the she found the voice in pain. A teenager, wearing dark cargo pants with a large belt at her hips, a bronze orange tank top ending just above abdomen, and long dark hair flowed out of her gray beanie, which was soaked red in blood. Beside her was a little boy, with a light blue shirt and red shorts clinging to her arm, delirious with tears and snot on his face. 

“Don’t worry child.” Marcy made it to them, caressing the boy's head as she examined the wound on the girl's head. “The doctor is here.” She said reassuringly. At the mention of her being a doctor the boy backed off uneasily, Angela got to work, stabilizing her with the caduceus staff and removing the beanie to get a better look at the cut.

Angela could tell by the injury they must have been thrown by the explosion and she suffered a blunt force impact, likely knocking her head into something hard and suffering the trauma. It likely meant concussion protocol considering her lack of responsiveness. 

Angela ensured the cut was sealed up properly with the use of her nanites, and used wipes to clean the blood off her head. “The authorities will be here soon, help will be on the way to get you out of here.” Angela said, reassuring the cowering boy. 

“Can you repeat that? To much chatter on this line.” 

A voice rang out, somewhere outside the train. Suddenly, in the glass on the end, the Doctor noticed boots step in.

Talon.

A couple more steps and to her estimate there were at least four in the immediate area, likely more.

“Alright boys, our orders are to sweep through the wreckage and kill anything that moves. Take no prisoners. Move out.” 

Angela’s heart lurched upon hearing his orders. Talon was increasingly brutal and terroristic in its campaign against peace. She heard the boots running off towards further sections of the hyperloop, while one pair remained back, walking around the car they were in. The doctor quickly propped the teen girl up, using the seats as cover, and hushed the little boy. The Swiss woman kept track as the soldier rounded the train, using the windows exposing his feet, and did her best to hide the two children.  

With shaking hands, she removed her pistol from its holster, crawling slightly behind the Talon agent, hiding herself in a seat. The man had his grip tight on his rifle, using his feet to kick back the broken door into the car. Due to it being sideways, or maybe it was just laziness, he peeked in but didn’t bother coming in further. 

Angela softly exhaled a sigh of relief. 

That was, until the little boy screamed. A single pair of feet rushed back towards them. Her heart hammered in her chest as she hefted her pistol, gripping it from muscle memory, waiting in terror. Presumably the same soldier had his rifle pointed in, eyes scanning for them. Gaze obscured by the red helmet, it was hard to tell where exactly he was looking, but he kicked at a corpse beside him, front arms at odd angles, before slowly climbing over the seat, entering the train.

All she could do was pray that whatever caused the boy to scream was gone, and that he kept silent.

The man was only about five seats away from her now. She would have to act soon. He found another body, strewn on the seats on the opposite column, and to her horror Angela realized their chest was moving. Before her body could even react, he raised his rifle, a lone shot echoing in the car as the body lurched violently, rendered completely still a moment later. 

The little boy cried out in fear.

The soldier turned, aiming where the children were hidden. Angela raised her pistol, he marched forward quickly, and Angela screamed as her finger squeezed the trigger.

He crumpled to the ground, red flowering from his neck.

-

In most regards, the mission was a success, Null Sector was contained by Overwatch mostly to the Terminal and the immediate area civilian casualties could have been far worse, and they prevented many deaths. 

Everyone considered the mission a success. 

When the doctor escaped the stifling train, she locked eyes with Jean, dead Talon soldiers at his feet. He looked at her solemnly.

The ride home rendered Angela catatonic, stuck in her bloodied suit, mind flashing at how easy it was to take away a life. Even when Fareeha sat beside her, Raptora armor removed (in that skin tight flight suit Angela secretly loved) with a chance to finally talk to Fareeha, she was rendered unable to speak. 

The groan that escaped his mouth as he choked on blood, hands clutching uselessly at his throat— it was a memory that would likely never escape her. 

This certainly wasn’t the old Overwatch, but how had it gotten to the point where she took someone’s life? Bile rose in her throat, and the ship lurched, causing Angela to stumble to her feet, running to the bathroom on board. 

Luckily she made it to the toilet before the vomit came.

Gabe’s words haunted him. 

“Because you will face death… and you will come to know him well.”

She knew death. Her parents were the first, as well as the town she grew up in, her comrades are all being marched towards death, there have been countless lives she has been too slow to save. 

But this… the power over someone else… to take away their life.

It was like nothing she had ever known. 

Chapter Text

Angela sequestered herself in the cramped lavatory for most of the trip back. There was nothing she despised more, with every fiber of her being, than senseless conflict. Senseless bloodshed. 

It wasn’t a machine following its programming that tried to kill those kids, but a living, breathing person. The situation replayed in her head, over and over, how light the pistol felt in her grip, how easy the trigger gave as she squeezed, how instantaneous the bullet pierced the thin armor on his neck, the gurgled scream he wailed out. 

She curled up on the floor in front of the door, clenching her eyes shut. Angela had witnessed many deaths, has known death as long as she has had memories, but found herself debilitated by what had transpired.

Why hadn’t she aimed for his leg? Why hadn’t she tried to disarm him?

She clenched her eyes shut, the sound of his body falling dead on the floor echoing in her skull. 

A whimper escaped her lips as she desperately covered her ears, attempting futilely to drown out the noise of his final labored grunts, before he expired. 

-

In her panic, time seemed to warp around her, the doctor couldn’t be sure how long she desperately tried to get her breathing steady.

Suddenly, there was a light knock on the door, so light that Angela completely missed it the first time. Her heart raced, lungs working overtime to compensate. Hyperventilating, her body couldn’t reach the door, only curling in on herself further. 

“Angela?” A voice delicately spoke her name, and she wanted to call out to her, but her voice wasn’t working. Nothing in her body was responding, she was completely at mercy to her panic. 

The voice spoke again, but it sounded almost level with her on the floor now, coming from the other side of the doorway. 

“Angela… it’s Fareeha. I’m here for you, whatever you need, if you’d rather I left you alone I can leave—”

“No.” She managed to speak out. “Please… just,” her hands shook as she tried to even out her breathing. 

“Well, okay, I’m staying right here.” The Captain talked about something her mind couldn’t focus on, but it was nice, having her voice as an anchoring point for her body to calm down. Standing on shaking legs, she took some time to collect herself, finding herself equally ashamed and drained by everything that had just occurred.

With a final sigh, she cracked open the door, to see Fareeha sitting on the ground, head resting against the wall beside the door, staring up at the ceiling. When she heard the creak, the Captain looked up at her.

The Egyptian woman immediately scrambled to her feet, eyes full of concern. Angela was certain she looked like a train wreck. Fareeha offered a water bottle, and she gratefully took it. 

“Thank you.” The doctor mumbled, unscrewing the lid and gulping down a few large sips. The cool liquid was something else to focus on, though it was hard considering the concerned gaze watching her. 

“I appreciate it, Captain…” Angela nervously spoke as she tucked a strand of hair that fell out of place behind her ear. “It’s been a while since-” she trailed off, not really sure what to say.

Fareeha nodded, understanding. 

“If you ever need someone to talk to.” She said kindly. “Or a hug?” Her lips spread into a smile, one Angela found rather charming. Collapsing into her arms was easy. Fareeha was warm. 

They stayed like that for a while.

-

After her experience in the field, it ignited a passion in her work she hasn’t felt in a long time. With renewed vigor, she practically lived in her office in the lab. It felt like she was in a race against time. One that she was losing. 

Gabriel’s words lingered in her ears. 

The doctor had gone down this road once before, a long time ago. Gabriel Reyes had been on her mind more and more. What she did after the headquarters bombing, her attempt to heal his cold body that spiraled into one of the biggest mistakes of her life. She thought about it a lot. It wouldn’t be like that again though.

Not this time.

The promise that her nanite research was showing was undeniable.

It was late into the night, and Angela caught herself  staring at the empty pot of coffee for a moment too long. Her empty mug beside it was a rather sad sight. With a sigh, she sat up, taking a moment to stretch her back after being seated so long. Grabbing the pot of coffee in one hand, and her holovid in the other, she left her office for the first time that night.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls. In the past, at all hours of the day the Watchpoints would be buzzing with activity. Twenty four seven, soldiers would come and go at all hours, engineers and armory technicians would be running around. Medical staff would be scrambling treating nearby victims of conflict zones. Now, only Torbjorn’s maintenance drones could be heard in the vacant halls, humming as they cleaned the floors. As she made her way to the mess hall, she stopped when she noted the lights in the gym on. Curiosity bested her and she peered through the window in the door, and saw Fareeha jogging on a treadmill in the otherwise empty gym. 

Part of her wanted to go in, but she looked at her holovid screen, noting all the test results she needed to go over on her modded staff design, and sighed. 

When she arrived at the mess hall she hadn’t noticed anything amiss at first. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but she put the new pot on and was waiting for the stream of coffee when she noticed in the far corner of the room, the door open with noise in the background coming from the lounge attached to the dining area. 

A spike of irritation ignited. They knew better than to leave holovids playing and the lights on.

These kids. 

It wasn’t until she walked in to turn everything off that she noticed the empty beer bottles strewn on the coffee table, a large handle of liquor empty on its side. Upon entering the room the smell of alcohol stifled her, and it was then she noticed Reinhardt.

He was collapsed on the floor in front of the couch, lying on his stomach. A small trail of beer was stained on the rug that poured out of the bottle clutched in his grip. She rushed to his side, immediately relieved by the sound of him exhaling. 

Reaching into her labcoat pocket, she grabbed her Medpad, calling for a gurney transport to her location. 

Clearly he went past his limit, and a spark of anger flared in her chest. He would likely just need an IV to get fluids in his system, but that wasn’t what she was worried about. Angela isn’t entirely certain when Reinhardt’s drinking had gotten so serious, but this was too far. She supposed ever since she arrived at the Watchpoint, he had been different.

His recent demeanor was unlike him. More quiet. Rather indifferent. Her mind recalled all the times he would leave during meetings to get coffee. She couldn’t help but suspect he was going to do something else. 

The hum of hoverjet engines interrupted her thoughts, and she immediately stood, pushing the coffee table out of the way and grabbed the handles of the hovering gurney as it chirped upon arriving. With familiar ease she steered it down beside the man, and it was then an immediate problem revealed itself. 

There was no way she could move this man by herself. 

She rested on her knees there for a moment, before putting her hands under the former Crusader’s sides and tried to roll him onto the stretcher, but she couldn’t quite get his weight up. His limbs remained limp and he didn’t stir once as she attempted futilely to move him. 

In her frustration at the ridiculous size of this German man, she remembered Fareeha was still up.

At once she made her way to the gym, the light still on as she arrived. Peering into the window once more, she saw Fareeha had moved to the weight section. Angela entered, the door hissing behind her close. Fareeha didn’t seem to notice her enter, as she was in the middle of racking weight onto the squat rack she was using. The headphones the younger woman was wearing likely drowned out any noise. 

Only when she lined herself up under the bar, did she see Angela in the mirror. The Captain’s eyes locked with hers, and for a moment they stared at each other, Angela noting the satisfied smile her lips hypnotically curled into. Fareeha turned to her, taking off her headphones.

“Doctor, it’s good to see you.” She said earnestly, grabbing her water bottle and walking over.

“Well, when you learn why I’m here you might not say that.” Angela joked, though she supposed it might not be the best time.

“Why, what’s up?” Her brow lifted, her expression turning concerned. 

“I need your help. It’s easier if I just show you.” Angela found her eyes starting to roam at the muscle exposed by her workout attire, and quickly put a stop to that, turning and walking to the door. 

She heard Fareeha’s footsteps following and smiled. The Captain didn’t ask questions, but was always willing to help at a moment's notice.

It was a relief to know she had such a good friend. 

When they arrived at the lounge, Fareeha clicked her tongue, shaking her head. 

“Reinhardt…” she said under her breath. They both stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of their dear friend in such a state. He was more than that, though. He filled a void left by the loss of both women’s parents. Reinhardt was dear to them both. It hurt even more to see his addiction best him.

“As you can imagine, I couldn’t move him myself.” 

“Good thing I was up.” Fareeha said, moving to kneel at his side. Angela went beside her. 

“Ready?” Fareeha asked. She nodded and together they rolled him onto the gurney. She raised it, and began steering him to the door. 

“I’m going to… clean this up.” Fareeha gestured to the room, “and then I’ll meet you in the medbay when I’m done.”

Angela nodded, leaving. 

Reinhardts face was all she could look at as they walked back to the Medbay. She remembers first meeting the man, how he dropped off the Orca in his shiny Crusader armor.

He was there for her every mission she carried out wearing Overwatch’s badge. 

She needed to be there for him now.