Revised on the 21st of November 2017
30-Miles West of the Iraq-Iran Border, Iraq
2076
There was a field of rubble around them. Most buildings demolished into an indistinguishable pile. The deeper they went into the city - the farther they got from the refugee camp - the more evidence of this war being displayed to the rescuers and aid workers. The streets were rife with litter and dust, dirtying the boots of the people venturing into the abandoned neighborhood. Despite the apparent absence of life, the security personnel guarding the aid workers had to be on guard, as their boots sometimes clanged against piles of ammo casings that joined the litter on the street. Nathan could still smell the gunpowder in the air.
After the camp received tremendous help from Dr. Ziegler and Overwatch, they were finally able to deploy search parties to seek out other civilians and refugees in the war-ridden city. Of course, Dr. Ziegler wanted to spearhead it. And obviously, Nathan followed. Making sure to stick close to her, even if she was currently scouring a large pile of concrete and rebar.
"… No life signs detected," the woman donning the Valkyrie suit stated, patting her dust-covered hands before floating off the big pile with her glowing wings. She muttered to herself, "I conducted the proper calibrations to my halo, didn't I? Why am I not picking up life signs? Something must be wrong."
"Your calibrations are fine, Dr. Ziegler," Nathan reassured her, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. "I'm sure that pile just didn't have anybody in it."
"Even if that were so, we haven't found nearly as many civilians as I would like. There are still many people unaccounted for. I know it."
Nathan narrowed his eyes at how Angela was reacting, thinking she was worrying herself more than needed. He'd never seen her like this and wasn't certain what to think of it. However, before he could respond, a short gunfire burst echoed in the distance and made everyone look up into the sky to pinpoint where it came from. It was far away and not directed towards them, but it didn't make anyone any less wary of their situation – especially the armed escorts.
The Field Medic pushed forward, nonetheless, the aid convoy following her through the streets and flanked on either side by armed security forces. A truck with a canopy displaying a red cross was in the middle of the convoy. They were basically patrolling this neighborhood, trying to spot any sign of life but with the purpose of aiding. They were successful in finding a few civilians, but the Doctor wanted to push on. She was unusually quiet on this patrol, Nathan making occasional glances at her to see if her stern expression had changed at all. The Swiss woman was like that ever since they left camp, and he almost wanted to ask if everything was okay. Nevertheless, he decided to keep his mouth shut and let her have her focus, out of respect.
They crawled along the street, convoy inching along at the snail's pace set by Dr. Ziegler. It let Nathan examine the full extent of the damaged city in the daylight, trying to not draw more comparisons to ruins he's crawled through as it was starting to get tiring.
'You've seen a hundred places like these, Brin,' the Courier tried to placate himself. 'Boulder City, Hopeville, Boneyard. Just stop fucking gawking and watch over the Dr. Ziegler.'
He grumbled as he visibly shook his head and spun to face forward. Focusing on the horizon of the street and trying to hide his scowl behind the aviators and the shadow of the hat's brim.
"Nathan, is everything all right?" Dr. Ziegler asked, noting his demeanor.
"What?" he asked aloud, caught off-guard. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'm fine, just a little tired. Why?"
"You seem… Out of it."
Angela looked at him with a genuinely concerned expression, the first time her façade broke on this patrol. Even with those aviators over his face, he couldn't help avoiding her gaze by glancing at the ground. Only after a few seconds did he muster up some courage to look up at her, again.
"I'm fine, Doctor, just worry about…" he stopped himself as he noticed Dr. Ziegler looking past him.
Turning, he sees she is looking at a dim alleyway and sees something dashing through the shadows. As a precaution, Nathan begins to raise his carbine up towards the alley but is halted as he feels Angela's hand go on top of the barrel shroud and push it down. The Waster twists his head to see her giving him a disapproving look.
"There's no need for that!" she stated before her face lightened. "Stay here."
Nathan stands back and watches as Angela walks into the alleyway. He signals the convoy to stop before looking back and sees the Doctor clad in white approaching a dumpster. One of the local security personnel runs up to him.
"Hey, what's the holdup? Where is Dr. Ziegler going?"
"Shh!" the Waster hushed, eyes glued on her.
He continued observing Angela, watching as she slowly approached the dumpster until she stopped and crouched low to the ground. She began very softly and faintly in Arabic, the others barely able to hear what she was saying and unable to see who she was speaking to. Then, a set of small, brown eyes appeared from the dumpster, looking at the "Angel" squatting in front of them. The pupils darted to the front of the alleyway, seeing two armed men standing there, the eyes recoil further behind the dumpster. Seeing that, Angela then got closer and spoke, maintaining that reassuring tone in her voice.
"Do you know what she's saying?" Nathan asked the other security guard.
"I think she's trying to tell the child that we're not going to hurt them," the man replied. "She's referring to me and you."
"Of course."
Going back to the scene, Angela slowly extended one arm, the palm facing down, and gestured to herself as she kept repeating a phrase. Slowly, an arm extended to her and a tiny hand wrapped around the gloved fingers. Smiling, she stood up and slowly guided the child from out behind the dumpster. The child was a boy. He had short, black hair and a shirt a couple of sizes too big that was covered in dirt. His face and skin looked filthy as if he had been scrounging throughout the city for the past few days. He didn't look older than ten.
Without warning, more gunfire rang out and made everyone tense up, again. The boy yelped and hid behind Angela's legs, the woman then crouching to eye level and addressing him softly as she caressed her hand against his cheek. The gunfire kept echoing, the register of multiple weapons reverberating through the air. It sounded far away but lasted much longer. A full-on firefight, it seemed. Then, after a full, agonizing minute it stopped, the security still having their muzzles up and ready. Nathan looked back to see the Doctor continuing to guide the child and walk him out of the alleyway, still trying to comfort him. Seeing how tender and sweet she was being to the kid. They noticed the little boy staring at them with eyes still unsure and fearful. His eyes mainly darting to Nathan. Once they were out into the open, a volunteer approached the two and took the little boy by his hand and began to walk towards the aid truck. Angela watched them go as her bodyguard walked up beside her.
"You handled that well," he complimented.
"Thank you," Dr. Ziegler appreciated but not entirely enthused. "That poor boy, though. I wonder how long he's been on the streets? I could've found him earlier…"
"I think it'd be best for you to not worry about that, for now. You were doing a pretty good job, so far. Keeping at it, I mean."
"Thank you, again, Nathan," she reiterated, before perking an eyebrow up at him and cocking her head to the side with a small smile. "I'm flattered by how generous you've been with the compliments, today. Are you sure everything's okay?"
He just shrugged. "I'm just in a good mood, today… I guess."
"Well, I hope it's-"
"Doctor! Doctor!" she was interrupted by one of the volunteers, running to her with a holopad in hand.
"What is it?" Dr. Ziegler asked, her expression morphing into worry.
"One of the search parties found something at the edge of town, very close to the combat zone. You need to look at this!"
The volunteer brought up the holopad and Angela huddled close to her, their backs to Nathan. He wanted to get a closer look, but another sound of a firefight distracted him. It sounded closer, more than they would be comfortable with. When it died down, the volunteer ran back to the aid truck and the Doctor pulled out her Caduceus Blaster, the energy pistol's parts separating and rings of energy pulsating before shutting. The Courier immediately knew something was wrong.
"We need to move, now!" the First Responder, itching to get moving.
"Hold on, what did you see?" Nathan asked, concerned at how riled she seemed.
She stopped and looked up at him with her blue eyes, but they looked sad, heartbroken even. Angela couldn't even maintain eye contact as she turned her gaze to the ground beneath her feet, her grip tightening around her Caduceus Staff and hugging it close to her chest. Seeing her like this felt almost uncomfortable for Nathan to look at.
"Something…" she choked up a bit, bringing her shoulder up to an eye and rubbing against it. "Something I wouldn't wish upon anyone."
No longer crawling along at a snail's pace the entire convoy was rushing along the streets. The medical convoy, having dropped off the people they rescued at the camp first, now carried the volunteers and the security as they were driven to whatever the search party spotted. Nathan sat at the back of the truck and Angela sat across from him. The Doctor hasn't said a word during the entire drive, just hugging her Staff close to her body and staring at the floor of the truck. He still had no clue what they were being sent, and he obviously didn't want to press Angela, but it must be serious if the truck they were in was now being escorted by two massive, armored vehicles with turrets on top. He just stared at her, an urge to do something gnawing at his gut. Nathan wanted to reach out and figure out what's bothering her.
But before he could do anything, he felt the truck halt and the guards were the first to leave the truck with their rifles ready to meet any threats. After everything was clear, they instructed the rest of the volunteers to come out. Nathan and Angela were the last ones to hop off, the latter slowly descending using her wings. As they got onto the ground, Nathan followed Angela from behind the truck and went up the street. They were near the edge of the town, but it didn't look different to what they've seen so far. It was just a street that led out into the countryside, where they could see the desert beyond it. However, he noticed the other team that reported the news to them near the end of the road, at the intersection. They were taking cover, some of their guards pointing their weapon in either direction, as if aiming at some unseen threat.
'What are they doing there?' he wondered as he ran up the street. 'I don't see anyone in sight-'
His eyes went wide, sharply inhaling and almost stopping in his tracks as his gaze just drifted to the side and finally saw what they were here for. On the other side of the intersection, there was a wall, practically parallel from where they were, and they were dozens of bodies lined up against it.
The aid workers ran up to the intersection, only to stop themselves from crossing the street. The armed security keeping watch on all flanks. The sound of war had increased the closer they got to this site, practically on the battlefield's doorstep. The day had decided the small skirmishes would devolve into a full-on battle. Without a doubt, very shitty timing.
They got a closer look at the scene. Blood was splattered everywhere along the wall, a crimson mural complimented by small craters that he could assume were bullet holes. Looking like the perpetrators dumped their entire magazines in just one burst. Even at this distance, the Courier could make out the faces of all the dead bodies, their skin starting to turn into a sickly shade of purple and blue, chunks of flesh spread throughout the surrounding space. Their expressions completely void of the life they once had. Their eyes glazed over and blankly staring into whatever direction their pupils or pointing at. The smell of all those corpses rancid, even on the other side, but they didn't look like they were there for long. Bodies haven't decomposed dramatically, and the birds were still pecking away at the meat. And the most damning thing was what they were wearing. No vests, no armor plates, no gear, no helmet, nothing to signify they were military. They were in civilian clothes – Men, Women, and Children. The Courier could only gawk at the massacre. At least, a partial massacre.
"Oh my God…" Angela hushed out, unable to believe her eyes. "They're always worse to see in person."
"We noticed some movement among the pile of bodies, ma'am," one of the personnel said to her with a frown. "Survivors."
"Yes, I'm detecting life signs," the Field Medic stated, shutting her eyes and bowing her head for a moment. "Some of them are very faint. How can anyone survive this?"
"I don't know, but as soon we try to approach them we end up receiving fire from the East. We don't know where the hell they are but they nearly nicked us."
"What? Why? We're a completely neutral party – a humanitarian effort! They shouldn't be doing this!"
"I one-hundred percent agree, but I have a feeling they don't care. They probably just saw some of us had guns and fired away."
Dr. Ziegler stared at the scene, trying to spot out survivors among the pile of corpses. Finding and getting to them would be easy with the Valkyrie suit, but doing it under fire would be different. The only thing that mattered was getting to the survivors and rescuing them. The First Responder had the means and she felt they didn't have any more time to spare. Not with people still writhing in the pile.
"Okay, here's the plan," she turned to address the security personnel. "I'm going to use my wings to fly over there and fly back with the civilians in my hands. I'm going to be as fast as I can, but I need you and your men to give me covering fire. Focus on shooting, I'll focus on saving."
"Sounds like a plan, ma'am," the man said, getting up to discuss the plan with the others. "I'll round up one of the armored cars to go up and soak up some fire.
"Right, and Nathan, can I count you to…"
Angela stopped midway at her request as she noticed the man only stared blankly into the distance, directly at the bloody wall and the corpses. His expression neutral at best, his mouth hanging slightly ajar. He looked like he was caught in a trance.
"Nathan?" Angela asked, again, her tone growing with concern.
The Courier didn't respond to her calls, his name sounding like a blur in his ear as his focus was one-hundred-percent on something else. Not just her voice, but the other sounds on the street and from the nearby battlefield only sounded flat to his ears. The Courier could barely feel a sensation for himself, feeling as if he was floating in place. A disembodied head lost in the air.
'…You couldn't do anything, y'know? Even if you really wanted to. There was nothing you could've done to prevent it. All of it.
His breath changed, his neck trembling slightly.
'But remember this: It was all your fault. Do you understand? Nathan…? Courier Six is deaf now, huh? Or simply too stupid to figure it out? Get ahold of yourself, Nathan…"
'Nathan?'
'Nathan!'
"NATHAN!"
The Courier's name snapped him out of his trance, feeling the dryness in his eyes until he blinked rapidly and darted them around the street, retrieving his semblance for where he was. He felt out of breath, as he looked to see Dr. Ziegler kneeling next to him at eye-level and staring at him with her blue eyes, newfound concern present on her face. Angela had her hand on his shoulder, Nathan glanced at it.
"Nathan…" let out, her brow furrowing with the concern. "A-Are you-?"
"Let's focus on getting those civilians back, Dr. Ziegler," Nathan stated, grabbing her hand and gently moving it from him.
"Brin! You can't honestly expect me to-!"
Suddenly, the sound of a baby's cry echoed through the street, nearly silencing everyone but the gunfire. Angela turned and looked back at the massacre, hearing the shrill crying of an infant emanating from the pile. Dread not only taking over her eyes but many of the other volunteers, as well. The absolute worst timing, indeed.
"I think you should hurry, Doc," Nathan plainly said, already shouldering his carbine.
Angela regarded him for a moment before looking back at the bodies and listening to that baby cry. An engine started rumbling behind her and she looked to see one of the armed escort vehicles was getting ready to drive into the street and soak up incoming fire as well as return some of its own. The woman with wings looked down at her Staff as she firmly wrapped her hands around it, before handing the long piece of equipment to Nathan, who looked at her questioningly as she did that.
"We'll discuss this later. Just cover me."
Her bodyguard regarded her for a second before taking the Staff and nudging it between his back and his pack, held together by friction. He stood up to take cover by the corner of a building, Angela running up beside him. Donned in her Valkyrie swift response suit, she planted a hand once again on his shoulder, looking up and nodding at him, before the metallic wings on her back expanded and a gold light flooded out of them with a glistening sound. He tried his best not to stare at her wings. Taking a step back, the winged woman rocketed off towards the wall, a trail of gold shimmering behind her. Promptly, as soon as she cleared their line of sight, the guards burst from cover and fired towards the East. The cacophony of their small arms drowning out most other sounds, except other gunfire.
Scoping his carbine, he could see a series of muzzles flashes in the distance and unloaded his magazine at that direction. Too far and obscured to hit targets, only hoping to suppress them in this situation. But as his finger kept squeezing the trigger, feeling the rifle lightly kick against his shoulder with every click, his vision drifted to the left and peered at the wall. He saw Angela, literally sifting bodies away to let her reach through the pile. Still firing, spent brass casings flying in his peripheral vision, he watches as she finally stands up and is holding something in her arms. She then flew across the street again and was back on their side. Nathan twisted from cover to reload and saw Angela was cradling the crying infant against her chest. The baby, wrapped in rags and covered in blood, was then handed to an aid worker who ran back to the aid truck.
Back on the street, their technical drove further up and was in the middle of the street, the mounted gun creating concussive blasts that kicked up the sand and dirt around them. Rounds pinged off its armor. Without a word, Angela ran around and behind the technical before flying back to the wall. The technical obscuring his view of the wall, Nathan peeked from cover again and fired off his rifle, dumping at least half of the magazine in a few seconds as he just focused on the muzzle flashes. However, his cover suddenly cracked and popped, forcing him to recoil back. The sound of golden light made him cast his gaze up to see the Field Medic was back, this time holding a boy in rags. As with the baby, a worker took the child by the hand. However, she placed her hands on her knees and leaned forward breathing heavily.
"You alright?" Nathan ran up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine," Angela responded in between breaths. "There's still two more! Get ready!"
He nodded, already running back to the corner and changing out mags. However, he heard a faint screeching and nearly fell on his ass as what appeared to be a bright ball of fire flew across the street and over them, nearly hitting their armored vehicle.
"Jesus fuck that's an RPG!"
"Back up! Back up! Back the fuck up, now!"
A repetitive, high-pitched noise now emitted from the armored vehicle as it slowly began to back up, the turret still delivering fire until the nearby buildings obstructed its line of sight. However, it slowly peeled back to reveal Dr. Ziegler now holding another child in her arms, then flying across the street and dodging streaks of lights. She went up to Nathan as he was the closest and he held out his arms and grabbed the child – a girl in a little pink dress with curly short hair – from her. He barely had time to say anything as the rescuer then turned and flew right back to the wall. One of the local security took the little girl from him, speaking to her in Arabic over the gunfire as Nathan went back to the corner and repeated what he has been doing for the past couple of minutes. However, as his carbine rocked in his hands with every repetitive motion, his eyes drifted to the wall.
At first, he couldn't see the Doctor, his eyes scanning across the blood-stained barrier, seeing rounds whizz by like flies or sometimes strike a hard surface. Finally, spotting a blotch of white and gold, he sees the blonde still at the pile, hunched over. She was taking longer than before, Nathan feeling something build up in his throat as he watched her be there for ten seconds. Then, twenty seconds. Then, thirty seconds. And when it was getting close to a minute, a plume of debris got into his eyes, making him wince as he withdrew from the corner. Getting his glasses off and rubbing his eyes, his looks back up and across the street to see why Angela was being held up. She was trying to carry a man, bigger than her, with his arms slung over her shoulders. Her wings, while were expanded and emanated that golden glow, weren't strong enough to speedily carry both their bodies across the killzone. He felt his heart jump into his throat when Angela nearly tripped and dropped the unconscious man. Peering from the corner, seeing the muzzle flashes in the distance did not drop in their intensity, he looked down at his hands to see All-American and a fresh mag. He then looked at the wall, the blood and guts splattered across it.
"Not her… Not her."
Jamming the mag in and slapping the bolt-lock, the Courier dashed from cover onto the street towards the two.
"Hey, where the hell are you going?!"
He ignored them as he got closer to Angela, closing the distance as fast as he could. She looked up and was shocked.
"Nathan, what are you-?!"
"Get to cover, I'll take care of him!" the tall Waster declared, grabbing the man and throwing him over his left shoulder. "Go, I'll cover you!"
Angela stared at him for a second, her eyes wide in disbelief, but she jumped up and grabbed her Staff from his pack before flying across the street and getting to safety before them. Nathan ran, obviously slower than usual but faster than if Angela was by herself, as he fired his carbine like a pistol almost aimlessly to the East. He could feel the rounds whizzing around him, buzzing by his ears like a Cazador. The survivor's limbs flopping uncontrollably from his movements, hitting the side of his body. The Courier had walked half of the road until he felt a sudden pain in his left thigh. He dropped to his knee, gritting his teeth as a stifled groan of pain emanated from between them. He could feel the blood start to rush out from the wound, but Nathan ignored the feeling as he now limped across the street. Feeling the pain surge with every pressure on his left foot, like something was cooking his flesh from the inside. He always hated that about getting shot. The burning sensation from a still hot round. Laser weapons at least cauterized the wound upon impact, but they weren't that much better. With a final cry of exertion, he made it behind the cover of the shot-up building and fell to the ground on his forearm. The man he carried flopped to the ground, two guards rushed to him then grabbed him by the shoulders and legs before carrying him back to the truck. The rescuer tried to pick himself up before he felt some people grab him by the strap of his pack and begin to drag him up the street.
"Base command," one of the voices behind yelled over the radio. "We're pulling out! Rescued all the civilians from the site. Coming in with wounded! Over."
As he was carried and slid against the concrete, the Wastelander looked up and found himself staring at the bloody wall. The sight of the corpses and the mural of blood becoming farther away. The sound of the battlefield still hammering his ears. Breathing raggedly, he reached to his behind and retrieved a canteen wrapped in blue leather. Looking down at it, the yellow, grimy number "13" greeted him before he picked the cap off with a bloody hand and brought the nozzle up to his mouth. Feeling the liquid wash down his mouth, but with a burning sensation. After taking two big gulps, he let the canteen down before sprinkling some of the liquid over his wound, the stinging bringing some of the pain away from the bullet. He could still feel the projectile in there, felt close to a 5.56, the only bright side that it seemed to miss his main artery. How close, he didn't have the time nor patience for.
'Still tried to help… Still got shot…'
The Courier eyed at his canteen, again, the top now dirty with sand and crimson. He brought his sleeve up, wiping it against the metal. It just smeared the blood across the shiny metal, but it was good enough as he brought it up to his mouth, again.
The campfire's flames dance across the shiny chrome parts of his canteen as he looked down at it, hunched over as he occupied a seat close to the fire. His finger gently rubbed against the leather grafted to the container, feeling the indentation of the yellow number. Nathan has had that thing for as long as he could remember, being one of the few things he brought from his home in the canyons. A memento, left by the village's ancestors. And like a lot of things he brought or learned from Arroyo, it helped on the long treks through the desert. Shaking his trusty canteen, he hears the liquid slosh and could feel it was about half-empty. A bit perturbed by this, but it should be enough for the dinner he was preparing.
At his feet, there was an old Vault-Tec lunchbox open wide and filled with discarded containers, while next to it was a tray that had sliced pink meat in one section and steaming white mush in the other. The last ingredient was a can marked with the fading label "Greasy Prospector" near its rim, and it was cooking over the campfire. He could smell the mixture of two-hundred-year-old pork and beans from where he was sitting, his watering mouth not helping with hunger.
It didn't take long for him to get patched up, mainly due to him performing some… Self-medicating to expedite the process and get back on his feet in no time. He had faith in the Swiss doctor's magical wonder stick, but he was just too impatient to wait and see. Pulling the bullet out hurt like a motherfucker, though. His hand went to his left thigh, but he felt the fresh pair of pants covering his healed wound. It still felt a bit numb, but he'd take that over the sensation of his veins almost getting ruptured any day of the week.
He looked back at the campfire after hearing a few pops and bubbling from the can of food, seeing steam rising from its open top. With a tool, he grabbed the can and hovered it over to his food tray, then dumped out its hot contents onto the metal pocket. As he watched the moist beans spill out of the can, he heard footsteps approaching from behind him. The campfire provided just enough light for him to spot Dr. Angela Ziegler walking towards him, out of her Valkyrie suit and in casual clothing under a doctor's coat. Nathan got up to address her and was about to ask if she wanted something to eat until she got closer to the flame to show her expression. The usually friendly and approachable looking blonde now had an expression that said anything but. As if to further express her discontent, she crossed her arms over her chest as she kept looking at him with those critical, blue eyes. Nathan stood there and sighed, tugging at a corner of his mouth as he looked around for a split second until he gazed back at her. The Doctor just slightly raising an eyebrow in response.
"Yup, you're pissed…" he observed, not even going to pretend he was clueless.
"I wouldn't say that, but… Yes," Dr. Ziegler clarified, maintaining her stern gaze. "I'm disappointed, Nathan. In how you acted today."
"Yup," Brin concurred, sitting back on his box but still facing her. "I'd imagine."
"I'm serious, Brin. You were reckless and made things more difficult than they should've been. It may not have looked like it, but I had things under control. What were you thinking rushing out into the street like that?"
"I was thinking it was going to be more difficult for you to lug a full-grown adult male across gunfire than carrying the children would be. You would've become a slower target, thus, an easier target. I didn't want to risk that."
"But you apparently didn't mind risking yourself and possibly the well-being of others, including the man I was carrying before you got to him. And as if it was to prove my point, you still got wounded in the process of your 'rescue'!"
Her tone had gotten louder, firmer as she went on. This wasn't the first time the Courier was on the receiving end of a verbal scolding for something he did, not by a long shot, but this was the first time he was receiving such a lecture from Dr. Ziegler. Though, she wasn't the only one disappointed with the Waster that evening.
"But, I understand your heart was in the right place," the Swiss woman lightened up, sighing as her eyes drifted to a corner before coming back up. "And you are right – I couldn't use the Valkyrie's wings to launch myself and the man across the street, so it indeed would've been slower transporting him than a child. It wasn't necessary… But you did help. Unfortunately, that isn't the main reason for why I'm mad at you."
His eyes snapped up at her when she said that, feeling his heart skip a beat as his mind started to race to the most obvious reason for what she meant.
"What is?" he enquired, despite being completely aware that Angela was smarter than his stupid question would imply.
"Don't act coy with me, Nathan," she responded, narrowing her eyes at him and not having any of it. "I heard about what happened last night; That a cart of supplies mysteriously appeared in front of the camp, and the thief from earlier beaten and restrained next to it. At first, I didn't make the connection, but when I overheard that the man said he was apparently ambushed by a man in black armor with red eyes… Well, I certainly don't remember Morrison coming here or ever wearing black, and I did notice you were missing from the tent that night - so, it couldn't be anyone else, could it?"
Angela stared down at him as he slowly rubs his hand against his scruff, rubbing his chin in between his thumb and finger. Looking at the ground beneath her feet.
"I see your point… Though, I have a feeling you wouldn't detest to the supplies coming back to people who need it dearly or the thief being caught. No, you're mad about something else. Is it…?"
"He talked about what had happened at the warehouse. What happened to the seven other men there. Tell me, Nathan, did you really have to resort to such-?"
"They outnumbered me, were armed, and were stealing supplies from a refugee camp. As far as I'm concerned, getting those supplies back is all that mattered… And I didn't hear you protest that night at Lijiang, Oasis, or Giza when I shot at people."
"Because innocent lives were directly in danger at that moment," Angela retorted, stepping closer to the sitting man. "This situation was different, there was an opportunity for you to not take all their lives and still get those supplies back."
"And what would you have suggested that I do?" Nathan questioned, his brow furrowing. "Ask the eight men armed with fully-automatic weapons for the supplies they've been stealing, nicely? Use what little non-lethal methods I have and significantly decrease my own chances of survival? I've been around the block, but I'm sure as hell not keen on handicapping myself to preserve a few thieving scumbags."
Nathan got up, all riled, and paced around the crackling campfire. Angela stood there, staring at the flame go as her expression dampened, seeing that there was a point to his actions. Even if they were violent. Nathan rubbed his face into the palm of his hands, grumbling at the fact that his actions were now being called into question by someone else in Overwatch. As if the Waster didn't have enough on his plate.
"But…" he said, his voice muffled by his hands until he let them down. "I understand your concern. If this really does trouble you, Doctor, I'll consider… Restraining myself if I encounter another situation like this."
He turned around to look at Angela, who looked up at him with a curious expression.
"You'll consider it?" she questioned, not entirely convinced.
"Old habits die hard," the Wastelander responded. "Habits I learned in the Wastes have proven useful. I'm not regretting their use. But, as I said, if it troubles you I'll think about turning it down a notch. It's the least I can do for you."
Angela stared at Nathan, unsure of how to take that entire response. It didn't sound like a promise, so it wasn't a guarantee, but it seemed like a start. It would, however, be another thing the Doctor would have to concern herself with, but what's another pin to the pile? This was still a compromise, and compromise is good. More so, considering who she was even speaking to. She honestly didn't expect him to turn around so easily…
Angela opened her mouth to respond but was cut off as the sudden chopping of helicopter blades rushed over the camp and made them look up to the sky. It was another transport chopper, same as the one that dropped them off a day earlier. Not expecting visitors so soon, the two exchanged glances with each other before Angela adjusted her coat to cover her body from the cold wind and began walking to the landing pad. Her colleague switched back and forth between her and the tray of food on the ground until he groaned and started following the blonde.
At the landing, they saw the helicopter was already on the ground and its occupants were filing out the ramp. To their surprise, it was more Overwatch personnel unloading crates and supplies. To an even bigger surprise, a dark-skinned woman walked out in a blue dress with golden stripes and highlights, wearing a white headset with wing coming off at the side and a blue visor over her eyes. Nathan almost didn't recognize her as she walked up to them.
"Satya?" he asked aloud.
"Mister… Brin, is it?" Vaswani stopped in front of them, her hands folded in front of her. "And Dr. Ziegler. How are both of you this evening?"
"Umm… We're fine," Ziegler answered, eyeing the man next to her. "What are you doing here, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Were you not informed? I believed Mr. Winston sent out a message to you. I assumed you would have seen it."
"He did?" the Doctor asked before her face grew with realization. "Oh, I left my tablet at the tent! I was out on a search party. He must've sent the message during that time."
Hearing that, Vaswani raised an eyebrow, her eyes then looking up and down at the older woman.
"I see," she stated, her face going back to neutral. "That's unfortunate. Well, then I am here to inform you that I have been sent to this refugee camp to provide aid in the form of hard-light construction for the denizens here."
"Oh, that's great!" Angela admitted, smiling. "I'm glad Winston was able to convince you to do such a thing."
"Indeed, but you can thank Vishkar for this initiative. I am also here to inform you that you must depart soon and report back to Gibraltar."
"What? So soon already?"
The smile on her face disappeared and was replaced by worry as she bowed her head slightly, her blue eyes darting across the ground. Nathan looked down at her, his face growing with some concern, too. Satya furrowed her eyebrows.
"Do you wish to stay?" the Architect asked.
"Yes, actually…" the Doctor answered, before straightening herself. "At least a little while longer. There is still much work to be done."
"This isn't a part of the plan."
"I know, but Winston will understand. I'll contact him to tell him I'll be here for a while but not too long."
The Architect stared at her, her head now cocking to the side slightly as if trying to get another perspective on something directly in front of her.
"Of course," the Doctor started again, turning around to face the man behind her. "Nathan can go if he pleases."
"I'm good, actually," Nathan responded, making Angela look up at him in mild surprise. "If you're going to stay, I should, as well. I'm still your bodyguard, mind you."
The charge tilted her head to the side with a slight frown, the bodyguard just shrugging.
"Then, I will leave the choice to you," Vaswani interjected, bowing to them both before walking past and going off to the camp to do her work. "I suggest contacting Mr. Winston to inform him of your decisions."
The two watched her go, the blue dress trailing slightly in the desert wind. After a few moments of silence, Nathan addressed Angela.
"So… When did she become a part of Overwatch?" the Courier questioned.
"When you left for Numbani," the Doctor answered. "Ms. Vaswani is polite but things became rather interesting since her recruitment. The other agents and staff aren't quite sure what to think of her."
"Well, I'm not gonna think about this stuff on an empty stomach. I'm going back to the campfire."
He started to make his way back to the camp until he stopped and twisted around to face Angela to ask, "You want some food, by the way?"
Again, Nathan surprised her as she recalled them arguing just minutes earlier and reckoned he would be holding a grudge for a period after. Also, she was quickly becoming astounded by how openly friendly the tall, usually brooding man was acting recently. It was… different seeing him like this.
"Sure," she accepted, walking up to him. "I could eat."