Thanks for all for likes and follows. Here's another Pharah drabble. I will write something a little longer in the future, these are just short ideas what comes to mind. Enjoy~
The distance had always been the hardest part of any relationship. In the beginning, Pharah thought that the issue would have been the age gap, even though people thought that it was only five years, it wasn't. It was close to nine years the gap. Pharah had always liked Mercy, something about her was unusual. Maybe it was because growing up in Egypt she really saw a blonde. Or the fact she found herself attracted to a women rather than a man. The young Egyptian didn't know, but what hurt the most was never knowing if they were together or not. Of course people would assume they were together, but Pharah didn't know anymore. They barely talked when apart. Mercy's job was none stop. And as for her own job, she was front line in a war between two lands at the moment. She had no time for Mercy, it wasn't like Mercy messaged her. The only time she did was when she was in Egypt that she'd hear from here, which was rare now. So Pharah needed to start thinking about messaging her. Maybe Mercy was married and Pharah was just her piece on the side when in Egypt. Who knew the truth. Pharah never got replies from Mercy so she never bothered anymore. But like a fool when Mercy messaged her she would go running. She hated the situation she was in.
Pharah sighed as she pulled off her helmet once back inside the military base. Everyone was cheering on the success of pushing back the front line. But not Pharah. It had been a year today that she saw Mercy, sweet Angela. That day when she left and said she'd message her had been a lie. Every night for the first three months, Pharah held onto her phone every night waiting for a message. After that, she gave up. She couldn't help who she had fallen in love with, but the reality hurt all the same. She knew Mercy was alive, social media and friends kept her informed. Reinhardt who had been a stand in parent figure for Pharah had always kept in contact, letting her know how the old gang was. It was hard to listen too sometimes, but she did. It was her only connection to the overwatch team. She wanted to join so bad, but right now the people of Egypt needed her more, plus being in her early twenties, Reinhardt forbid her to join just yet, not with all the wars starting, he didn't want her caught up in more than she already was now in the military.
Moving into her dormitory she lived alone in she took off her heavy uniform and took a shower to cool off from the heat of the suit. The protype wing suit was amazing but the metal got hot so quick, so quick that Pharah had burns from the metal on her elbows and knees. It was painful but it was nothing aloe vera couldn't fix for her. After showing and putting on the lotion, the women changed into shorts and a tank top and sat on the small metal framed bed. It wasn't home, but what was now days? The home she had grown up in was taken under her after her mother vanished, she moved into a children home, but she just didn't fit in. She was sure her mom would come back one day. But as that time went on Pharah had to face facts that she wasn't coming home. She was on a list for adoption when Reinhardt showed up, he officially adopted Pharah with barely any questions asked, his connections with overwatch had helped and of course Pharah was grateful for him bringing her in and bringing her here. It wasn't anything like home, the only thing Pharah kept of her mothers was her necklace she used to leave her behind when heading out on missions. The only reason she got her mothers dogtags was because of Reinhardt, what she would off done without the man she didn't know. He was like a father. She appreciated every little thing he did for her. He was the only person she had in her life who was reliable. It was no wonder her mother had such feelings for him. Feelings she never got to tell him, but Pharah knew he knew and in away, she guessed he had feelings for her mom too.
Pharah reached for her phone and messaged the man asking how he and everyone else was. It had been years since she had seen them, she got photos from time to time, the odd phone call from Jessie McCree asking how she was. It was the only family she had, no matter how messed up they all were. The message was sent and young Egyptian put her phone back on the side as she stretched out on the bed, touching the back of her neck to feel more burnt skin from the metal suit.
"I'm going to ache in the morning." She said in Arabic as she shifted up from where she was to apply lotion to her neck. After four days of rough sleep and lack of movement all Pharah wanted to do was sleep like a starfish, spread out on the bed, if only it hadn't been so small. As she opened the pot she heard her phone start to ring and she dropped the pot, she ached so much she didn't want to have to pick it up, but no one else was going to do it for her. But for now it could wait. As she moved to her phone, expecting it to be Reinhardt she realised it was the military number. Which meant she was being called back in for the fight. She didn't answer it, instead she moved back to the pot of lotion spread out across the floor in the bathroom and began to clean it up. The smell of the lotion made her freeze slightly to take in the fumes. The smell always reminded her of Mercy, damn Mercy in her mind again. She was sure the women ignored her on purpose most of the time. But the smell, it was as if Mercy coated herself in the stuff she always had that sweet scent about her. Maybe that was why Pharah only ever brought it. Maybe that's why she should stop buying it.
Maybe the issue was because Mercy forgot about her, or that she Pharah had been to forward with her. The last time she was here Mercy had said that they were a couple and that she would always be faithful. A year later, no message no phone call. Maybe being faithful meant something different to Mercy then it did to her. Whatever it was, Pharah was missing the blonde. Everything about the blonde. Throwing herself into work to fog over how depressed she was without the women in her life. So many men had approached her for dates, dinners out. You name it, they asked. But none of them came close to what the thought of mercy did to the womens heart. After cleaning up the mess the women moved back to her phone and picked it up. She redialled the number and it's what she thought it was, her commanding officer told her to suit up refuel and join the front line.
Pharah followed the command and did as instructed. Before she left her phone behind, she messaged Reinhardt to say that she needed to return to the front line and that she would catch up another day. Once she had been refuelled Pharah joined the others in her squad to the front line.
It was only when she was ambushed by the enemy did she realise that she wasn't afraid to die. What really did she have to live for anyway? A 'girlfriend' who never calls or acknowledges her? A mother who died in combat? A father who was killed in front of her as a child? A small dorm which she lived? She had no one. The only person who would miss her would properly be Reinhardt Wilhelm, but he'd soon get over it, be one less person for him to worry about.
As the enemy fired Pharah didn't even bother, she just held her ground. To die had to be better than living. She felt the first of the enemy rockets hit the suit, the pain was almost unbearable as she glanced up the see a rocket coming straight at her. She shut her eyes on, letting the darkness take over.