An exhausted sigh escaped her lips as Angela slumped over, hands digging in to porcelain sink, looking at the grime that covered her face. She felt like she was barely standing after she had shrugged off her Valkyrie suit and went to wash up. All she wanted to do was collapse into her cheap hotel bed and sleep for the next week. But she had to wash the combination of dirt, blood and lord knows what else off of her before she succumbed to sleep.
She pushed herself off of the sink, hands moving to work on removing the stained clothes she wore under her suit. Tossing them to the side for now she moved to the tub, turning the hot water on full blast, steam rising from it before adjusting it to a comfortable temperature.
She let loose a pleasured hiss as she stepped in, switching it to the shower head, wonderfully hot water washing over her tired muscles. It was all she could do to just stand there for a few minutes, letting the water relax her body, before moving to wash herself free of the memories plastered to her skin.
The fighting had been terrible in this sector, Los Muertos terrorizing the people of Dorado, trying to establish their hold on the city. They had allied themselves with Talon in hopes of expanding their own operation. Today they had set off a bomb in the tunnels under City Hall, collapsing the building. Angela had worked for 28 hours strait, trying to save as many lives as possible, only stopping when she herself had passed out at the scene and been escorted back to her hotel by police.
It was times like this where she missed Overwatch the most. She would have had a proper medical team with her back then, the rest of the team either hunting down the perpetrators or assisting in digging out survivors. She missed her psuedo family. They always looked out for each other, on and off the battlefield. But most of all she missed him.
He would have taken over the operations, decisively commanding everyone around him, regardless of whether or not they were with Overwatch. He had that commanding presence and charisma to pull it off without stepping on anyone's toes in the process.
Well everyone except Gabriel...
He was always jealous of Jack, the poster boy, the perfect soldier.
Angela shook her head, trying to rid herself of these thoughts before she drowned in her memories of a better time.
She finally, regretfully, turned off the water and wrapped a towel around her hair and body. She placed a slender leg upon the closed toilet and started to rub the water droplets from her skin with the rough towel, moving to the other leg and the rest of her body as she finished with each area.
She gave the mirror one last look, noting the dark circles that marred her otherwise flawless skin before stepping out of the humid air of the bathroom and into the cool room with a shiver.
Suddenly there was a tinkling of glass falling from her window and a sharp pain in her upper arm.
Instincts taking over, Angela dove behind the side of the dresser, shielding her self from view of the window before looking down to assess the wound to her arm. Definitely a bullet wound taking a divet out of her arm.
Wanting both hands free, she let go of the towel she'd been holding to her chest and groped on the dresser above her for her pistol, feeling marginally better with it's weight in her hands.
Angela's body tensed as the full window shattered behind her, someone's boots landing on the thin carpet with a thud, but she held her position, trying to figure the best time to take a shot at her assailant.
"I know you're back there, ma petite cheri." A thick french voice purred, sparking dread in Angela's very bones.
The husk of her former friend, stalked closer to her hiding spot.
"N'aie pas peur, sweet angel. I'll be sure to make it quick." She said, a lilt in her voice as she toyed with her prey. (Don't be afraid)
Angela hear heavy footsteps coming for the door next to her, guessing to was more Talon agents. Knowing she needed to move now, she rolled out of cover, taking a knee, her towel falling away from her chest and over her knee, and firing her pistol at the sniper trying to kill her.
Widow deftly dodged her shots and started firing back, forcing Angela to roll back to cover, bullets peppering the towel left behind. The flimsy door burst open under the shoulder of, not more Talon agents, but a man wearing a tactical visor, carrying a red and blue pulse rifle, immediately lifting it to fire at the sniper.
Widow hissed through her teeth as she leapt back, knowing she was no match for this newcomer in close quarters. She shot a grapple through the shattered window and swung out just as helix rockets wizzed by, flying harmlessly into the sky.
The unknown turned to her now, lowering his weapon.
Still shocked, she steadied herself back against the wall, eyes never leaving the sights of her weapon as she decided whether he was friend or foe.
The man raised his hands, laying his weapon on the bed, "I'm not here to hurt you."
"We'll see." She responded.
"I'm here to help." He said in a calming tone, "I have a biotic field on my belt, ok? I'm going to grab it, ok?"
Her blue eyes flicked to his utility belt, seeing one of the portable biotic fields she had created hanging there.
She nodded curtly, "Go for anything else and I'll drop you." Decades of combat training hardening her usually soft demeanor.
He nodded, slowly unhooking the device from his belt, placing it on the floor where it sprang to life, releasing a wave of healing energy.
She dropped her eyes for a moment to the wound on her arm, seeing it knit back together as if it had never been, leaving new pink skin in it's wake.
Angela decided to lower her weapon, not believing that he was a threat, body relaxing a touch as she covered her chest with one arm, keeping the pistol in the other, laying on her raised knees.
The man had the decency to look away at that point, reaching down to yank the dingy sheet from the bed and toss it to her.
She thanked him, standing to wrap the well worn material around her body to cover herself. She looked around the room. It was destroyed.
The man looked back at her, "Are you ok?"
"Well I'll have to find a new place to sleep tonight, but I'll be fine." She sighed, hearing sirens approaching in the distance.
The man simply nodded, pulling a slip of paper from inside his jacket and handing it to her. She held it between 2 fingers.
Call this if you every need help it said. She looked back up to see him moving towards the window as the sirens grew louder, the numbers 76 pressed into the leather of his jacket. He easily through his legs over the window sill, leather gloves protecting his hand from the broken glass and dropped from the second story window, disappearing into the night.
Angela watched him go, sliding back down the wall as the adrenaline left her system and the exhaustion settled back in, her mind still trying to process who this new masked man was and why he had saved her from her corrupted friend.
He moved like a trained soldier, precise in everything he did, years of training apparent in the way he handled his weapon. He was exactly the kind of person they would have had in their ranks at Overwatch.
She supposed he could be ex-Overwatch. He did carry her tech and the weaponry that was standard issue back then, but she had to push her musings aside as the police came into the room, their own weapons drawn, and she knew it was going to be a long night.