Ana Amari was always charismatic, she was open, she was good at speaking and saying what was on her mind. She was sharp and good at picking up what people were trying to say. She didn't hesitate to show how deeply she cared about her teammates. She was, in all regards, a people person.
While Ana was all these things, her daughter, Fareeha, was quite the opposite. Reserved, quiet, speaking only when she finds it necessary or during missions. She seemed to have trouble picking up on some things, and she only seemed to care about her teammates during the mission. And she was, in all regards, an introvert.
At least, that was Angel Ziegler's first impression of her. That theory was soon tested, however, in several confrontations that made Angela question her hypothesis.
Fareeha– Pharah as she had known her while in combat, was in full armor, visible sweat dripping down her face. Angela was gauging what her abilities were in combat so she could keep track of her if necessary. Mercy slipped and started to fall off Gibraltar's cliff, Pharah was out of sight and all she could do was float down and hope she wouldn't get swept away.
Pharah noticed she was out of sight, her visor picked up her signal, a blue outline of the falling medic. She swiftly swooped down, (perhaps she should've slowed down before she caught her.) Hard metal collided with Mercy's thin frame.
Pharah apologized profusely once they landed. "That was irrational of me, I should have paid more attention."
"No no, it wasn't your fault, it was an accident."
The other just insisted that she make it up to her, she was persistent, if nothing else. Angela begrudgingly agreed.
So Angela came to realize that Pharah cares more than she thought.
The second time Angela saw Pharah she was standing alone in the rec room. While the other members were gathered around a table watching Reinhardt and Zaryanova arm wrestle, Pharah was off to the side brewing some tea. She glanced up when she heard the collective cheers then looked back to the tea.
Angela considered striking up a conversation, but couldn't bring herself to it. Compared to when she saw the young Fareeha who would run around the base, eyes filled with spirit and wonder, the woman brewing tea was like a predator stalking its prey. Pharah was tall, strong, and in her own right, more intimidating than the two who were armwrestling.
"Time!" Tracer called out. Everyone groaned, pulling out money, each of them giving Pharah money.
"What happened? Who won?" Angela asked Lena in confusion.
"Pharah won technically. She bet it would be a tie."
Perhaps she was more observant than Angela gave her credit for.
The third time was when Jesse McCree joined their ranks again. The first person to greet him was surprisingly not Genji, or Winston, or even herself, but Pharah– now Fareeha again. She had a smile on her face (and oh god she's smiling) and Jesse smiled back.
"Wouldja look at you," he drawled, "damn, you're almost as tall as me."
Fareeha laughed (holy shit she just laughed,) "And you have your western look down."
A puff of smoke left his lips, pulling his cigar away, "Someone's gotta do it."
He glanced over, spotting Angela. A devilish grin quickly replaced his fond smile.
Oh. Fuck. No.
"Hey there, Angelcakes."
God dammit.
"Jesse," she said through a strangled smile.
Fareeha snickered, "Angelcakes?"
Angela's face reddened out of embarrassment.
"Yeah, was a nickname I gave 'er when she was part of that student program what was it again?"
"Overwatch had a program that allowed prodigies to get hands-on experience and provided resources to those who needed it." Angela explained.
Fareeha nodded, "Yes, I remember that now. Some of those kids were snobby." A pause until she quickly added, "Not you, though."
Sensing the awkward turn in the conversation Jesse claps both of their backs, Angela nearly stumbles forward while Fareeha remained unphased. "Well! I haven't ate in a while so who's up to gettin' somethin' to eat?"
"I can't," Angela said, retracting from his touch.
"Aw c'mon, Angela."
She shook her head, "I have a paper to finish."
"Guess it's just you and me, Farah." He shrugged and turned to Fareeha.
Fareeha nodded, smile returning to her face, "Looks like it is."
Angela watched as the two walked off, her heart pounding in her chest. (Why was it doing that?)
The fourth time, Angela wished to never have to experience it again. Pharah went on the latest mission with Jesse, Genji, Hana, Lucio, and Lena. Angela didn't worry too much about it, they were all very skilled in what they do so when they got back sooner than they were supposed to she was shocked.
Even more so when Genji and Jesse carried in an unconscious, bleeding, Pharah.
Angela prepared for immediate surgery, she couldn't use her staff on her due to her armor imbedding itself in her left arm, and many more dents that would interfere with healing if she were to use it.
To see this invincible woman so broken reminded her that no one was immortal. Halfway through the process of removing the armor she came to find that Fareeha already had two prosthetic limbs, her legs. She didn't ponder on it much. She had to save her.
In the end she wasn't able to save her left arm, another prosthetic for Fareeha to add to her collection. She and Genji will get along, came a grim thought. She finished up and waited for Fareeha to wake up.
Genji later explained to Angela what happened, "There was an explosion and some civilians weren't evacuated yet. Pharah shielded them with her own body, it was very honorable but it was also very dangerous. She's lucky we found her in time."
Angela thanked Genji, lucky was the right word for it. He simply nodded and told her that she should get some rest.
Angela didn't know what Fareeha was thinking when she found she had another prosthetic.
Angela stopped counting after that. And after that Fareeha withdrew from the others, trying to avoid them at all costs, even shifting her schedule to make it so it wouldn't interlace with the others.
Angela had enough of it, so one day without putting much thought into it (by god she put thought into every minute detail) she marched up to Fareeha's dorm and knocked.
No one answered.
She knocked again.
Still no answer.
She was about to knock once again until Jesse passed by, "If yer lookin' fer Farah she's at the gym."
Of course. Stupid.
"Thanks, Jesse."
"No problem, mi amiga." He paused and put his hand on Angela's shoulder, a look of distress on his face, "She's been beatin' herself up over what happened. Ya gotta talk to 'er, Angela."
Why me? She wondered briefly when she made her way to the gym.
There she spotted her, beating away at a punching bag, quick jabs yet all power. (Angry even.)
"Captain Amari."
Jab jab jab .
"Captain Amari," there was more edge in her tone, accusing, sharp.
Jab jab.
"Fareeha!"
She stopped.
The lecture Angela had prepared when she was walking to the gym had vanished when she watched as Fareeha hunched over, holding onto the bag with her one flesh limb, and leaning against it. (She was shaking.)
"Fareeha... I know it takes some getting use to-"
Fareeha stood back and with a roar punched the bag again, it tore off of it's hook and landed on the ground ahead of her a few paces. "I failed my team again, and I lost another goddamn limb..." She swallowed her words as they came out, instead of full blown yelling like Angela expected.
"What are you talking about? Everyone is fine because of you. That wasn't a failure," Angela said, gently now.
"It was, I was a fool, I let my guard down and more lives were put at risk than there should have been."
"You had no control of what Tal-"
Fareeha cut her off, "It wasn't Talon…"
"Excuse me?"
"Talon didn't cause the explosion… I did…"
"Fareeha… You can't be serious."
"I missed my mark, the rocket hit the building instead of the aircraft I aimed at… I didn't shoot fast enough and so I thought it only fair I pay the price…"
Angela opened her mouth to say something but couldn't find the words.
"I'll never be my mother," Fareeha said so quietly Angela almost didn't hear her.
"This isn't about Ana, whatever mistakes you make- they aren't because you're not her. They're because you're you and that's not a bad thing. I like you , Fareeha, stop trying to be Ana ."
Fareeha just stood, quiet and still, until, "Thank you…"
That night Angela decided to revise her hypothesis.
Ana Amari was always charismatic, she was open, she was good at speaking and saying what was on her mind. She was sharp and good at picking up what people were trying to say. She didn't hesitate to show how deeply she cared about her teammates. She was, in all regards, a people person.
While Ana was all these things, Fareeha, was different in her own ways. Reserved? Yes. Quiet, and speaking only when she finds it necessary or during missions? No, Fareeha said many things, sometimes without even speaking the words. She was quick to pick up on little habits some people had, even noticing her own. All she seemed to do was care, care to an extent that seemed unhealthy. And so she was, in all regards, Fareeha Amari.
A/N: Well there it is, I wrote this on a whim for character study because I have random spurts of inspiration and then it blossomed into something more. Hopefully this won't become like my other multichapter fics (I've never finished a multichapter fic rip) because I have Many Ideas for this so...!
Reviews are appreciated! Catch you next time ~EternalEpoch