A/N: I hate my obsessive personality. I got Overwatch recently, got obsessed, had to write a fanfic. Such is the life of a writer I guess. Anyhoo, here it is, hope you like it, this is going to be a one-shot but I will add more to it if people like it enough. Also, this site hates Hana Song's callsign, so it'll be written as DVa. Sorry.
Overwatch is not mine.
Hana Song checked her blaster pistol, swearing in Korean as she realised she was down to her last power cell for the minute weapon, and that it was almost spent. In hindsight, she should have known a day like this would come, but her skills had never let her down before. More than that, her skills had never been outmatched before, but someone, somehow, had crippled her mech, forcing her to eject prematurely. She had been caught off-guard, and as such she landed roughly after bailing out of the stricken machine, tumbling down a slope of rubble and landing in the shattered ruin of a small building. It had been someone's home, she had noted sadly, up until a couple of hours previously when Talon forces moved in, their intentions unknown. Once their armoured vehicles and aerial transports began deploying, the MEKA were once again called on to defend their home, and Hana Song - callsign 'DVa', a name she lived up to - was the first to jump back into her armoured battle machine.
She had struggled to make her way back up the slope, taking shots at the members of the terrorist group spilling out from a fresh APC, before attempting to call down a fresh mech...and that was when her evening got worse.
At some point, presumably in the fall, the device on her wrist had become damaged. No matter how much she pressed it, hit it or fiddled with it, no fresh mech was forthcoming, leaving Hana Song, nineteen-year old professional gamer-turned-military mech pilot, to fend for herself with only her hand blaster, her wits and however many shots she could manage out of four power cells.
That had been another three hours before. Now she was sore, weary, low on ammunition and caked in dirt, dust and the ash of a dozen burning buildings. She was bleeding from a handful of minor wounds too, and they didn't help, and for the first time in a long time, Hana Song was afraid.
She should have known this day would come. The day when she realised that the battles she fought had the very real potential to end her life, that each time she got into that mech she faced the possibility of being buried in it...or of never being buried at all, instead being reduced to so much dust on the wind.
That fate seemed so much closer now than it ever had, and it was all Hana could do to fight back her tears.
She would not break down. She would not weep. She wouldn't. She had a job to do, and low ammunition or no, she had to try and do it...or die trying.
She risked a look over the wall she'd been using for cover, and spotted the unmistakable outline of another mech across the road that was still a battleground. The machine was inert and on its side, but it looked serviceable enough - if she could just get over there...
Off to her right, a squad of South Korean soldiers ran along the road, opening fire on the Talon troopers and cutting the majority of them down in a surprise assault. The minor victory was short-lived, however, as a sinister laugh echoed around the area - and moments later, a wraith-like figure appeared in a swirl of black mist, each gauntleted hand clutching a massive shotgun.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," the mist-man said, in a voice that sounded like it came from the depths of hell itself, before opening fire with his massive weapons. The soldiers fought back bravely but in vain, as all their shots punched straight through the man's body with no effect. His shots, however, were gruesomely effective.
She saw her opportunity as the man everyone called Reaper savoured his kills, and she leapt over the wall and began sprinting across the road while his back was turned.
It had been an excellent plan, overall. It might even have worked, if it hadn't been for the sniper that put a bullet through Hana's thigh, sending her stumbling to the ground and earning her the attention of Reaper.
The wraith gave a low, horrible chuckle, dropping his shotguns and pulling a fresh pair from...wherever they came from.
"You don't get away that easy," the thing rasped, and Hana tried to crawl towards the downed mech as Reaper advanced on her. An armoured boot stamped on her wounded leg, causing her to cry out in pain and stopping her attempt at reaching her salvation.
"Not today, little girl," Reaper growled to her, leveling one of his immense weapons directly at her head.
Hana covered her eyes, hoping for the end to be swift - but it was not to come at all.
Something dashed across the space between them, leaving Reaper's weapons a bisected ruin. A trio of light trails slashed through the air and into Reaper's arm and side, causing him to stagger and take his weight from Hana's leg.
"You have no honour," said another voice, with an Eastern accent and a clear mechanical buzz, and she looked up to see the cybernetic body of an Overwatch operative she'd only ever heard of.
Genji, the enhanced ninja once left for dead by his own brother, and now the face of her salvation.
He charged at Reaper, the two combatants clashing in a blur of blades and black mist, and even as she fought to regain her feet she saw another figure heading towards the sniper's perch, rapidly moving in a series of glowing 'jumps' that were almost impossible to track.
She tried to stand fully, but the moment she put pressure on her injured leg the pain became too much, and she dropped to the ground again. It was bleeding severely and she had nothing to tie it off with. And now she couldn't even walk. It was embarrassing, or would have been if she hadn't already been afraid for her life.
And then she saw it, a sight more captivating than anything she had ever witnessed.
Descending towards her, bathed in golden light from a pair of mechanical wings attached to her back, was the most beautiful woman she had seen, her blue eyes full of warmth and compassion, a long staff held in her right hand.
Even angels are moving with technology, she thought idly to herself, mesmerised by the sight as the woman settled onto the ground beside Hana. Guess I'm going to die after all. No extra life here.
"Hold still," the woman said, her voice calm and gentle, and she kneeled beside Hana as the 'wings' folded up against her back.
It was as the light from the wings faded that Hana finally realised she recognised the woman who tended her, the woman who she had just been staring at - and still was, before she finally checked herself and tore her eyes away from the woman's face.
Doctor Angela Ziegler, the former Overwatch's resident medic and physician. A woman who, in the past, 'DVa' had either spoken to with little patience or outright ignored, and shame heated her cheeks. This unexplained conflict had taught her more about herself in three hours than she'd understood in nineteen years, and the truth was she had some growing up to do.
Another faint golden glow appeared between them as Angela activated the Caduceus staff she carried, and Hana felt the nanobiotic field working to repair her wounds.
"You will be okay in just a moment," Angela told her, brushing a hand against Hana's cheek in a calming gesture.
"Thought Overwatch was...shut down," Hana replied wearily, closing her eyes and laying her head against the hard tarmac of the road.
"We were," Angela answered, "but we come together to stop the fights that no-one else will."
The staff clicked off, and Angela checked something on its small display, frowning in concern.
"We need to get you to a proper medical facility," she said, otherwise-"
"We got more over here, grab them!"
A squad of Talon troops had found them at last, and they ran forwards to seize the two women.
Neither of them moved until they were within reach, and with a shout of anger Angela launched herself at them, her wings opening and burning with light again.
Angela's first attack tripped one of the troopers as she knocked his legs out from under him, sweeping the staff up and knocking the weapon away from another. With the speed of a seasoned fighter, she slammed the haft into another trooper's face, knocking him back as she struck another in the chest with the broad head, before sweeping his legs out as well and dropping him on the floor. She struck another in the knee, before putting him down with a blow to his skull, then spun around to slam the staff head into the last trooper with enough force to knock him backwards.
She pulled her small pistol from its holster, leveling it at those that still stood.
"Get away from my patient," she warned them with calm menace, and the last troopers turned and bolted.
"What is you always say, Doctor?" Hana asked with a small smile. "Must violence always be the solution?"
"Sometimes, yes," Angela replied ruefully, helping Hana stand. "Come, child. We need to get you some proper aid."
Angela curled her arm protectively around her charge, and the younger woman allowed herself to be shepherded through the ruined streets towards what appeared to be a former Overwatch aerial transport.
In hindsight, she should have known a day like this would come, but her skills had never let her down before. But Angela Ziegler was no starry-eyed fan, and Hana had never before realised how much she craved the care the older woman offered.
She told herself it was adrenaline, the after-effects of the battle...but the feeling brewing in her gut suggested otherwise.