I

What the ever-loving fuck.

Angela stared at the communicator, stunned into silence.

"Um, Doctor Zeigler?" Winston asked, putting his face much too close to the camera. "Did our connection freeze?"

Taking a deep breath, Angela lightly shook herself. She must have misheard. Simple as that. "I'm sorry Winston, but could you repeat what you said?"

"We're putting Overwatch back together!" As close to the camera as he was, Angela could only see Winston's large canines when he smiled.

"I... I see."

"Well?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm... not sure what you want me to say."

"Say you'll join us!"

Angela rubbed her temples. "Join you?" Oh, sure, let me just quit my job, abandon all my patients, fly halfway around the globe on some hair-brained scheme to bring back the Good Old Days. I can't wait to relive the interdepartmental politics, Geneva violations, and- oh! Can't forget about the homegrown terrorist cells, can we? My, what wonderful memories!

"Your experience and knowledge would prove invaluable!" Winston pressed. "Even if you only joined for advisory purposes, it'd be immensely helpful."

Well, I'll just send you my consultation fee.

"And we're already receiving responses to the Recall! We won't be working bare bones!"

Of course, I'm sure so many former agents will leap at the chance to rejoin the great Overwatch! Anyone would give up the life they've managed to salvage from the Fall if it meant being a part of the new and explicitly illegal attempt to save the world from itself.

"Um, Doctor Zeigler? Should I take your silence as a, um, as a no?"

Angela blinked. Winston was watching her with a concerned yet vulnerable expression.

Of course her answer was no. Absolutely not. Under no condition could she be convinced to go back to Overwatch of all things. It was shut down for a reason, after all. There was simply no way she could afford to destroy the life she had worked so hard to rebuild only to return to the place that caused its destruction in the first place.

But then Winston finally eased away from the camera and she caught a glimpse of the framed photo on his desk. Possibly the last photo of the commanders Reyes and Morrison together, surrounded by friends so dear they were practically family. She was in that photo, too, of course. Right between Gabriel and Jesse. Young, bright-eyed, hopeful.

Foolish.

Winston was as surprised as she was when she finally said, "Mercy on call."

II

Truly, she had no idea how they even made it this far. By all accounts, so many people shouldn't have answered the Recall- but there were roughly a dozen agents present for the mission brief. Some had come out of hiding to join. Some came out of retirement. And some had crawled out of their graves.

Angela side-eyed one of the agents who pulled a Lazarus- and how atrocious was it that there had been more than one? 'Heroes never die' was supposed to be figurative. They didn't even have the decency to resurrect in threes. Unaware of her ire, Ana laughed and patted Reinhardt's arm fondly.

"I don't approve of what you've done with my biotic technology," Angela said pointedly, not bothering with pleasantries.

Ana faced her and rolled her single eye. "I'm sorry you feel that way." With a satisfied smirk, the elderly sniper held up one of her purple biotic grenades and gave it a shake. "But it suits my purposes now."

Angela's eye twitched. Do no harm. Do no harm. Do no harm. "It is not-"

"Angela! It has been too long." Angela staggered under Fareeha's sudden embrace.

"Fareeha," you overgrown pigeon, I'm trying to defend my work and call out this wretched hag! "I was just speaking to your mother."

"Oh," Fareeha said, eyeing Ana cooly. Certainly no love lost there. "Good for her. Anyway, how have you been since I've last seen you? Can you believe that I've finally joined Overwatch? It's a dream come true!" Fareeha shook her by her shoulders, causing some of Angela's hair to fall from its ponytail. Didn't Fareeha know how much hairspray and gel she needed to keep her hair presentable?! Fuck you, fuck Overwatch, and fuck your mother.

"I'm sure your mother must be so proud of you," she grit out.

Ana perked up, looking at her daughter with a smile that was not returned. "Hm," Fareeha said. "First time for everything, I guess."

Angela tried not to feel guilty as Ana slunk away. She had started this, after all. Those living in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. A frowning Reinhardt loomed over them, casting them in shadow. "You should not be so harsh to Ana. She has been through a great deal."

Like not dying?

"Yes," Fareeha drawled, echoing Angela's thoughts. "I've heard that dying is an unpleasant experience. Who would have known that the afterlife is a beach on Kauai?"

Angela cleared her throat. "Don't you think it's time to hang it up yourself, Reinhardt? You're not getting any younger." Brigitte appeared at his shoulder, looking affronted. Though your… assistants sure are.

"Nonsense!" Reinhardt shouted. "With Brigitte at my side, we will conquer all our foes!"

Brigitte smiled up at her godfather before addressing Angela. "I'll always be there if Reinhardt needs bailing out, don't worry Angela!" Ah, yes, it inspires such confidence to know a child watches over an ancient veteran.

Of course, Jack- oh, excuse her 'Soldier: 76', the man who is Most Certainly Not Jack Morrison- chose that moment to shove his nose in a conversation he wasn't invited to. "If Reinhardt's too old, then I'm too old," he said gruffly. Angela glared at him. Make like your hairline and recede, Jack.

"Oh, good," Fareeha chirped. "Then we're agreed that you, Reinhardt, and my mother don't have any business on a battlefield."

Jack spluttered. "You young punks think you know better than us? We've forgotten more about war than you'll ever know!" Sounds like an Alzheimer's screening is in order.

III

IV bag securely hanging on its hook, Angela looked at her patient with concern. "You know, there isn't a rewards program for the medbay, Hana. There are no bonuses for frequent visits." Hana only glared, dark circles lining her eyes. She had every intention of waiting until her patient was ready to break the awkward silence, but then the lobby's door chimed from the front of the medbay. Knowing that Hana wouldn't talk yet, Angela sighed and closed the curtains around the bed before seeing who else needed her attention.

"Ah, Jamison. How lovely it is to see you in my medbay… again."

"G'day, Mercy- eh, Zeigler." Jamison giggled maniacally.

Angela narrowed her eyes immediately. If my medbay experiences spontaneous combustion again I will force-feed him broccoli until his skin turns green. "What can I assist you with?"

"Uh, I am in need of, er- advice! Yes. Advice."

What baby-back bullshit is he up to this time? "Medical advice?" Jamison nodded vigorously. "About?"

"Errrrr," he drew out, focusing on something behind her. Angela whipped around, but nothing had changed in her medbay. "Sex!" Oh for the love of- she rolled her eyes so hard it practically constituted a neurological exam. Initial prognosis indicated she was certainly losing brain cells to these transparent shenanigans. Jamison continued, unaware with just how unimpressed Angela was. "Yes. I am. Doin' the sex?" An electric buzz brought Angela's attention back to what was behind her- "And!" Jamison interrupted. "Er, I need advice. On how to do that." He laughed nervously again.

"Well, we have pamphlets for that." She looked behind her again, sure that she heard a noise that Hana couldn't have made herself. Concerned that she was attempting to escape again, she strode to the patient rooms- only to stop short when Jamison threw himself in her path.

"Wait, no! I need advice!"

"Read the pamphlets, Jamison!" She pushed past him, certain that he was trying to distract her from some grander scheme. Her heels clicked sharply as she made her way to Hana's bed and ripped the curtains back. Hana froze, eyes wide, energy drink in hand.

"Hana! No!" Hana quickly opened the tab with a loud pop and started chugging the nano-cola. Angela dove forward and tried to wrench it away. They struggled for control of the can for nearly a solid minute and by the end of it they were both drenched in sticky soda.

Angela jerked the can away, breath heaving. "Who… gave this… to you?" Hana crossed her arms and pouted. "Names, Hana! I want names!" A crash that sounded suspiciously like a brochure rack falling to the floor echoed from the lobby. Angela rubbed her temple with a free hand. "JAMISON! In here! Now!"

She listened to the step-thunk-step-thunk of Jamison's footsteps as he shuffled to the patient rooms. When he finally stopped in front of her, head hung, hands behind his back, Angela crossed her arms. "Tell me about your scheme."

"Don't tell her anything, Jamie!"

"Scheme?" Jamison asked, eyes darting about. "What scheme? Dunno what you're talkin' about."

"I see. When was your last medical examination on your prosthetics, Jamison? Perhaps it is time for a check-up."

Jamison flinched. "I was supposed to distract you while Satya set up a teleporter to get Lucio through with the goods."

"Some accomplice you are," Hana grumbled, sticking her tongue out at Jamison.

"'Oi! I risked lectures for your stupid soda!"

Angela frowned at him coldly. "You're risking more than that by bringing this to Hana." I would be more than happy to demonstrate how kneecaps are a privilege and not a human right. "Speaking of," she said to Hana. "You need to take your health more seriously. This is the fourth time I've had you in here for severe exhaustion. Energy drinks, sodas, and junk food are not what you need to recover."

"Whatever, it was worth it! I'm number one in Starcraft 3 again! You losers just need to get on my level."

"Get on your level?" I'll be sure to arrange a flight over the Marianas Trench and pack a pair of cinder blocks. "How is working yourself to exhaustion and treating your body so poorly something to aspire to?"

"It's a small price to pay for being the best. I thought you of all people would know something about that. Weren't you a medical prodigy at my age?"

Angela grimaced internally. She wasn't proud of her younger years. Sacrificing friends, hobbies, and health on the altar of success got her exactly what she wanted. All it cost was everything she needed.

"If that is what you think," Angela sniffed, "then you should know that I speak from experience when I say it is not worth the long term damage." She sat on a chair next to Hana's bed. "I'm not telling you to stop gaming. I know how important it is to you. All I ask is that you don't lose sight of other things."

Hana snorted. "What's more important than video games? It's my livelihood, not a hobby."

Angela held up the empty soda can. "What about the people who care enough about you to risk my wrath to make their friend feel better?" Hana looked down at her hands, abashed.

Jamison cleared his throat. "So, er, does that mean I'm off the hook?"

"Of course," Angela said with a predatory smile. Jamison shifted anxiously, sensing that he had sprung a trap, but not sure what the trap was. "You were only trying to look after a teammate after all." She stood and pulled a heavy textbook from a shelf, blowing off a thick layer of dust. "Just as I am looking after a teammate by educating you on sexual health."

Jamison gulped. "Hana, help me!"

"Your funeral will have fireworks," Hana said solemnly, not moving from her bed.

"Thanks, mate. You're a good friend."

IV

Angela's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she spotted Jesse in the mess hall, cigar hanging on his lip. It was one thing to smoke in one of the designated areas on base, and quite another to do it in a public place where people eat. She marched to his table with purpose, loudly dropping her tray next to his. Genji and Zenyatta both looked startled, but Jesse only groaned.

"Don't get started on me today, Doc! It ain't even lit."

"Angela!" Genji interrupted. "Hello!"

"Good afternoon to you, Doctor Zeigler."

Angela beamed at the two sitting across the table from her. "Good afternoon, Genji, Zenyatta." Then it was back to business. "Why do you have it out if it wasn't your intention to light it?"

"I just like chewin' on the end after a meal!"

Angela took a bite of her salad and refrained from rolling her eyes. The pinnacle of patience. "When are you going to kick that filthy habit, Jesse?"

"I ain't kicking this habit," he said, biting down on his cigar. "I don't drink half as much as I used to, lemme keep this one at least!"

"Making strides to be less unhealthy is not the same as actually developing healthy habits."

"C'mon, Doc, you don't know what it's like-"

She dropped her fork, allowing it to clatter on the plate and folded her arms. Jesse immediately grimaced. "No, no, you're right. Of course I don't know anything. Why would you listen to me, I'm just a medical professional with eight years of education and a decade of experience what could I possibly know about what constitutes a healthy lifestyle?"

Jesse slid down in his seat in a pout. "Damn, no need to sass me like that, Doc. What'd I ever do to you?"

Genji cleared his throat. "There was that time before Venezuela."

Jesse's face crumbled. "Aw, naw, Doc. Tell me that ain't it. I've been apologizin' for years!"

It was Genji's turn to wince when Angela gave him her full attention. "You know, you've always reminded me of a plunger." Genji tilted his head in confusion. "Constantly bringing up old shit."

Almost every head in the mess hall zoned in on them when Jesse broke out in uproarious laughter, banging the table and wheezing. Even Zenyatta's shoulders were shaking in amusement. Angela closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. This was why she usually didn't verbalize her thoughts.

"You are in rare form today," Zenyatta observed. "To what do we owe the occasion?"

"No occasion," Angela said drily, still watching Genji and Jesse make fools of themselves.

"Doc," Jesse gasped. "Doc, help me! I'm dyin'!"

Usually she wouldn't say anything, but people were already staring, so fuck it. "Aw, somebody call the whaa-mbulance."

"Oh, Jesus." Jesse had already been red in the face from laughing so much, but now he was practically purple, laying flat out on the table and struggling to breathe. A click brought Angela's attention to Genji, who had apparently replaced his faceplate to keep up with his body's demands for oxygen.

When their antics didn't abate, Angela rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that funny."

"If," Jesse gulped a lungful of air. "If it had been anyone else sayin' it, I'd agree with you."

"You do seem to know how to bring joy to those around you," Zenyatta said in a pleased tone. Well, probably pleased. It was always hard to tell with that one.

"Angela has the best sense of humor," Genji agreed. "Her laughter could cure even the surliest patient."

She blushed. "Yes, well, there's no treating what you have."

Genji drew himself up, surprised. "Wha- What do I have?"

"A cru-"

Angela cut him off. "Not one more syllable, Jesse McCree."

"...shhhhhhhhhhh." With that, she smacked him on the back of his hand with her fork. He drew it back with a betrayed yelp, rubbing at the faint red marks forming on his skin.

"It is times like these," Genji snickered. "That I think you might be the dumbest person on earth."

"He isn't," she disagreed, leveling her fork at Jesse's eyes. "But he better hope that the title-holder doesn't die. Oh, stop pouting, you look ridiculous." Jesse did not, in fact, stop pouting.

"Perhaps it is time for us to depart," Zenyatta announced as he stood.

"Aw, but Master."

"It was a wonderful lunch, but we are already late for our afternoon meditation. After experiencing so much excitement, I'm sure some tranquility will do wonders." With that, Zenyatta departed from the mess hall.

Genji got to his feet and briefly bowed to the table. "Thank you for the lunch and company," he said with an air of defeat. "I will be going with Master to… experience tranquility."

Jesse chuckled. "Alright, bud, don't forget to use protection while you're experiencing all that tranquility."

"Jesse!" Angela slapped his arm in admonishment but Genji only chuckled.

"You will have to try harder than that to get a rise out of me, cowboy."

"Oh, I'm sure I could get you to rise all night."

Angela stood, grabbing her plate. "And that is my cue to leave."

"Aw, doc, didn't know you were so shy."

"Please, I gave a sex ed class to Jamison today. I am far beyond a modest prude, but some of us have a mission to prepare for."

"Haha, alright, whatever you say." He caught her by her arm before she had the chance to walk away. Confused, she looked down at Jesse, waiting for what he had to say. His throat bobbed a few times before his easy smile returned. "Stay safe, yeah?"

Angela snorted but struck an exaggerated pose before intoning, "Heroes never die."

"Some do," he said solemnly, not quite meeting her eyes.

She winced. "Yes. Some do."

V

"The payload!" Angela screeched. "Get. On. The. Payload."

In the distance, over the din of gunfire and the screams of civilians scrambling to get out of the way, she could hear Zarya. "Push forwards, comrades! Give it everything you've got!"

Fine, don't mind me, I'll just be the only one doing what we were sent to do! Crouching to minimize danger of getting hit, Angela was careful not to peek over the top of the payload. hEaL mE aNgEla! BoOsT mE aNgeLa! Then abandon me at the first sight of a more interesting target. She took a steadying breath and peeked around the corner. No one seemed to notice the payload mysteriously moving itself. Yet. Maybe she could get it up to the rest of the team before-

"Going somewhere?" An accented voice asked. Angela whirled, still crouched, in time to see a woman clad in purple smirking down at her, SMG in hand. With a surprised yelp, she lashed out with her staff, barely missing the other woman's head.

"Ay! Watch where you-"

Angela ignored her, too busy panicking at being caught out on her own to process the words. She swung her staff through the air again, this time catching the woman's ankle. Purple woman pitched forward, landing hard on the ground.

"Hijo de puta-"

No hesitation, Angela had to knock her out, now. With both hands, she lifted her staff high before using all her strength to bring it down on purple woman's head- only to hit the asphalt instead. Angela blinked. She… she hadn't closed her eyes bracing for the impact, had she? Where did purple woman go? A quick scan of her surroundings didn't give any indication that anyone had ever even attacked her. Angela took a deep breath, ignored her shaking hands, and continued to move the payload towards its destination.

200 meters… 150 meters… 100 meters away from her target. She had almost single-handedly brought the payload from start to finish and her team was still nowhere in sight. If intelligence were a curse, this team would be uncommonly blessed.

75 meters.

The comms flared to life. "I could use some healing!" Lena said urgently. "On the rooftops!"

Rooftops? Even if Zenyatta hadn't disappeared with the rest of the team, he wouldn't be able to provide medical assistance at such a height. She was the only other medic on the team, but….

"Anyone there? I need back-" Lena cut herself off with a scream. Angela's head snapped up, scanning the rooftops for any sign of her.

"Tracer, you need to come to the edge so I can fly to you!"

No response.

"Tracer?"

Angela stopped guiding the payload, the life of a teammate far exceeded the value of a completed mission. She had to find a way up to the top. Desperately looking around for a fire escape, a stack of crates, anything, Angela almost missed Lena directly above her.

She couldn't get a good look of her condition from there, Lena being two stories up, but the pained slouch of her shoulders was more than enough to convey a sense of urgency. Not even the usual rush of endorphins of flying was enough to soothe the worry in Angela's gut.

A gentle manipulation of the Valkyrie wings allowed her to overshoot Lena, affording her a clear view of her surroundings. They appeared to be alone but-

The crack of a gunshot split the night. Pieces of plastic and metal that used to constitute her comm band fell past Angela's wide eyes. She folded her wings immediately, surrendering herself to gravity in a bid to exit the sniper's field of vision as rapidly as possible. The ground rushed up at her, but she waited until the last possible moment to spread her wings again. Waited too long- she was going too fast and she landed hard, pain lancing up her left arm from her wrist.

Blinking back the tears that watered in response to the pain, Angela scooted her way towards Lena, keeping her head low. The smaller woman didn't move when Angela shook her. Looking closely at her face, she saw that Lena had passed out. There were no obvious wounds or blood on her body, but Angela didn't know how she could examine or treat her patient if they were pinned down by a sniper. How was she supposed to defend them with a sprained wrist? She couldn't even use her staff properly! Should've packed more body bags, she thought darkly as she measured Lena's steady heartbeat.

She tapped on her comm, only to realize it was damaged beyond repair. The only way to contact the team was to take Lena's comm link, but if she did that and they ended up getting separated, there wouldn't be any way to track Lena through her comm. Reaching her decision, Angela flipped the emergency beacon switch on Lena's comm. Hopefully, someone was close enough to come help, otherwise-

A crunch of gravel interrupted her thoughts. Someone was directly on the other side of the air unit providing their cover. Her pulse skyrocketed, and she pulled Lena's comm out of her ear- forget separation, if she didn't call for help immediately, they'd die. She frantically whispered into the comm, begging someone, anyone, to come and help them, as the steps came closer and closer.

And then they stopped.

Slowly, she looked up from Lena's prone body, dreading to see who had come to claim their lives. Her blood turned to ice at the sight of the nanite cloud swirling into a solid silhouette. Tall, broad, menacing- he could have been a modern rendition of Jack the Ripper. And here she was, alone on the rooftops, far from any conscious teammate or thread of hope, facing one of the most prolific killers of their time. Reaper.

She was barely conscious of whispering into Lena's comm as he bore down on her, nanites blurring his outline. "To anyone still alive," she said through numb lips. "I am very disappointed in you."