A/N: This was originally meant to be the last chapter of "A Mother's Diary", which is why there are so many references to it. It didn't have the same tone as my last story, so I separated them.
There's always a problem in Russia. Relations between the omnics and people here have always been strained. This is where the Omnic Crisis started, and although it's over, there are still a lot of omnics living here. Pretty much all of the omnics infected with God Programs have been destroyed, but virus-free omnics are sentient, and killing them would be akin to murdering people.
Russian omnics stay in the country of their creation, but many want out. Some of them want to immigrate to other places where omnics are treated as equals, like Numbani. Most don't have the means to leave. A tiny percent want to stay to change the situation from within.
Fareeha is sixteen now. It's a difficult age for me to deal with. I thought Fareeha stopped growing a few years ago, but then she suddenly shot up like a sprout in the span of a month. Now she's about my height, and even taller than Angela. But the sudden growth spurt made her lanky and awkward, and it's going to take her more time to get used to her body until she stops tripping over her own feet.
Fareeha has always wanted to be a soldier. I wanted her to be proud of me, so I used to tell her tales of my successful missions. When I joined Overwatch, my teammates had even more stories to tell, filling her head with notions of heroism and justice. But being a soldier is not glamorous. It's a life of choosing who lives and who dies. It's a life that can be ended at any moment. It's a life I'm not sure I should have. It's not a life I want for Fareeha.
I deluded myself into thinking the conversation would never happen. When it did, I didn't handle it well.
"Mama, I'm going to join Overwatch."
I was drinking tea when she said it. I had the sudden impulse to spit it out, and when I resisted, a tiny amount trickled down my air pipe. Still, I remained stoic and slowly lowered my teacup until I heard a soft clink.
"No."
"What! Why?"
"You're too young."
"Angela and Jesse were seventeen when they joined! I'm less than one year away!"
"Angela and Jesse had already been fighting for years before they joined, and they lost their childhoods in the process. No, you are unfit for Overwatch."
"I can fight! I want to protect the weak and bring justice to the corrupt!"
"And how are you going to do it?" I snapped. "Punch them to submission while their guards shoot holes through your body? You've never even shot a gun before! Do you understand the responsibility of aiming a tool of death at someone's heart?"
"Whatever I don't know, I can learn! I can ask Jack to teach me…"
"Fareeha Amari!" I yelled so loud, I heard the TV in the next room turn off and people hurrying out. "I absolutely forbid you from even laying a finger on a gun, do you hear me?"
"What can you do if I do? It's my life, and you can't decide for me! You always try to control everything! But you can't! You couldn't even keep whoever the hell spawned me from leaving you…"
She stopped speaking when I slapped her. I could feel the sting on my palm, but what stuck out to me was the way the sound of the hit seemed to get trapped in my head and bounce between my ears like a game of pong. I can still hear it.
Fareeha stared at me. I know my face never moved. I felt the fire inside my chest that burned and twisted, and tried to claw its way out my nose, but I swallowed it down.
I had never hit her before. But I know it wasn't the hand-shaped mark that hurt Fareeha. It was much worse.
She didn't say anything. She tore off her hair ornaments and threw them at my tea.
After she stormed out of the room, I coughed up the tea that had been sitting in my lungs. My fingers trembled as I picked up my cup. My left hand pressed the hair ornaments to my heart.
We didn't speak of it again. In fact, we didn't speak at all. I waited for her to apologize, even though I knew I didn't deserve it. I should have been the one to start the conversation. How easy would it have been to just say, "I'm sorry"? But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.
It stayed like that until the day we were all gathered in the common room for a movie night. Even Angela was there. At the end of the movie, the lights turned on, and everyone stood and stretched, ready to head to bed. That's when Fareeha spoke.
"I have an announcement." Everybody turned their attention to her. "I am leaving. I have enrolled in a military academy in Egypt. I will join the army when I turn eighteen, and once I have made a name for myself, I will come back."
She was talking to everybody, but she was staring at me. It was a challenge.
To enlist in a military school, Fareeha would have needed my permission. No doubt, she forged my signature. It would have been easy for me to call up the school and revoke the document. But I didn't.
"Congratulations on getting in", I said.
It set the tone for the rest of the room. Everyone cheered, and Reinhardt clapped Fareeha on the back, almost sending her flying off her feet. The only people who didn't have smiles plastered to their faces were me and Angela.
The day that Fareeha was leaving, I waited outside the lab for Angela and Fareeha to exchange their goodbyes.
"Are you sure?" said Angela for what I'm sure was the umpteenth time. "You don't have to go. If you want to join Overwatch, you could help on the sides. You could be part of the communication team, repairs, heck, you could learn medicine and serve with me."
"I want to be strong, Angela. I'm going to forge my own path."
"I just want you to be safe."
"Geez, Angela, you sound like my mom. Don't worry, I'll be ok. When I come back, I'll be an adult. I hope you look forward to it."
Angela laughed. "It'll always be hard for me to see you as anything but that sweet twelve-year-old girl with round, pinch-able cheeks and gigantic eyes."
"I may look scrawny now, but when I come back, I'll be big and strong. I'm going to find a program that'll train me in aerial combat, and we'll keep the skies clear together. Just you wait and see!"
"I'm going to miss having you around."
"I'll write to you every day!"
"Wouldn't it be easier to communicate via hologram?"
"Yeah, but I want you to have a physical record to remember me by."
When Fareeha was done talking, she left the lab and walked right into me. We made eye-contact, and I still wasn't used to looking straight ahead instead of downwards. Fareeha was wearing a thick, white sweater. I stole a glance inside the lab, and saw that Angela was wearing a blue sweater.
Fareeha's whole body was tense, and we remained silent as I escorted her to our room to pick up her baggage.
I passed a note to her.
"This is the information you'll need to access the bank account I set up for you. Be nice to your roommates at the boarding school. When you get a day off, go visit your relatives in Cairo."
"Yes, Captain Amari", said Fareeha. She turned to leave the room.
I stopped Fareeha by putting my hand on her shoulder. I took off my beret and put it on her head.
"Take good care of it. I have many like it, but I've had this one for sixteen years."
Fareeha didn't say anything, but she didn't take off the beret either. She just left. I couldn't find the strength to follow her outside to the jet that would fly her directly to Egypt.
I looked around our room.
It was so empty.