You choked on the smoke as you flapped your wings, desperately trying to clear the air around you as you searched for the little splotches of colour that marked your targets. The air was getting hotter and more oppressive, clouding your lungs, burning your throat, and stinging your eyes even through the goggles you wore to protect them. You didn't have much time left, and neither did they. The building was collapsing around you, fire licking at the walls and eating through the furniture that had previously decorated the hallway.

"Monarch, what do you think you're doing?! That building is about to collapse! Get yourself out of there!" the voice screamed in your ear as you slowly made your way down the hall, breathing as shallowly and as little as you could. Your skin felt like it was about to melt off and you knew your lungs were full of smoke.

"No way," you responded, throat raw from the smoke and giving your voice a nice, husky element to it. "Not without getting them out first! Mercy, I need you and Reinhardt on standby outside. I can't guarantee my wings are going to support us both, I'm starting to run low on energy here."

"Understood. I will have a bottle of sugar water ready for you when you get down here, Monarch."

"Absolutely not! Monarch, get yourself out of that building right now! That's an order!"

You rolled your eyes at Jack's antics, shaking your head as you paused in a doorway. Poking your head in, you desperately searched the room, watching the smoke turn from a dark gray to a deep red as your vision switched. Nothing. Sighing, you turned away. "I'm not leaving them here to die, Soldier!"

A buzzing by your ear turned your attention towards another room, the little fluorescent bee-bot zooming through the doorway. From within the room, you could hear a faint child's voice calling out. Summoning your strength, you pushed away from the wall, stumbling into the smoke-filled room. In the corner was a little girl, trapped beneath some rubble, her cheek glowing a soft yellow from the bee-bot rubbing up against it. She caught sight of you standing in the doorway and cried out, reaching one little hand towards you. She couldn't have been more than six, the poor thing, and she looked like she was in agony.

"Hey, it's going to be okay! I'm here to help you!" you said, hurrying over to her side to begin lifting some of the burning debris off of her. You couldn't imagine the damage done to her body already. You had to get her out of there before it became worse. "Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?"

The little girl sobbed, looking up at you, helpless. "Lizzie," she coughed.

"Lizzie? That's a beautiful name! You're doing such a good job Lizzie. Here, hold this over your mouth, okay? It'll help you breathe better." You handed her a small oxygen mask, making sure she had it on correctly and it was working before turning back to the steel beams pinning the child down. "Alright Lizzie, I'm going to try to pull these beams up, okay? When we feel the pressure lighten, we're going to need to use all the strength in our arms to pull ourselves forward, got it? Alright, three, two, one!"

The beams only lifted about an inch, not enough to free little Lizzie, before they fell back as your strength began to fade. The ceiling above you shifted, threatening more collapse. 'No, no, no, okay, there's other ways to do this. I need something for leverage… No, nothing in this room will help… Maybe-' "Okay, we're going to try this again. I need you to be as still as you can, Lizzie."

"Am I gonna die?" she asked, her tearful voice muffled by the mask.

"No, sweetheart, you are not going to die," you said, your heart hurting a bit as you tugged one of your pauldrons off your shoulder. "We're going to get you out of here safe and sound, Lizzie. Let's try this again, alright? Three, two, one!" On one, you lifted the beams and shoved the pauldron underneath before activating it. The pauldron expanded into a golden hard-light shield, lifting the beams up a few more inches. The pile of debris shuddered, and, before it could collapse again, you yanked Lizzie out by her arms, sweeping her up against your chest, and hurried to the door. You heard the tell-tale crunch of your pauldron behind you as the debris pile collapsed, taking large chunks of the ceiling with it. The new falling debris nearly flattened you and the child as it closed off your escape.

'Well, Torbjorn isn't going to be happy about that…' you thought, turning around to assess your surroundings.

Lizzie cried softly, one little hand clinging to the fabric of your kevlar suit.

You shushed her, brushing your fingers through her hair as you thought. It looked like the window was the only way out, so you hurried over, only to find the latch melted shut. 'Fuck. Looks like the only way out is smashing through this… Shield first. I'll heal from the glass cuts, but Lizzie might not be so lucky.' "You're being so brave for me, Lizzie, thank you so much," you soothed, giving her a smile. "I need you to cling to me as tightly as you can and close your eyes, okay?" You shook out your wings as you attached your last remaining pauldron to your forearm, preparing to smash through the window and fall from about thirteen stories above the ground.

Nerves bouncing in your veins, you activated the shield, holding it in front of you as you stepped back as far as you could, ready for that running start. The glass shattered on impact, and soon you were free from the smoke-filled room and careening backwards through the air as you twisted to shield Lizzie from the falling shards of glass. You vaguely heard the screams and shouting of the gathered crowd beneath you, too focused on taking a few deep gulps of fresh air and trying to right yourself once you were a safe distance from the building. Wind fighting back against the spread of your wings, you tipped over, facing the ground you were rapidly approaching. In this position, it was much easier to flare your wings just so to catch the wind and control your descent. Flight was out of the question. It'd been too long since your last sugar intake and you'd wasted a lot of your strength getting other people out of the building as well.

"Monarch, you're going too fast, you need to slow down!" Angela said, her voice strained from the worry.

"Not happening. I can hardly keep my wings open. Someone's gonna have to give me a soft landing!" You shot back, tilting your right wing to send you hurtling to your left. Spreading your wings a little helped slow your fall, but it wasn't enough.

"You're going to have to stall, then," came Jack's reply. He was pissed and you could tell. "Circle the street, we'll get something jerry-rigged."

"Copy!" Tilting your wings a bit more, you managed to turn your high-speed descent to death into an extended glide, flying over the crowd of reporters and evacuated tenants. Oh, great, the press was here. Lizzie clung tightly to you, squeaking out a soft whimper from time to time. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but already you could feel the exhaustion creeping up on you. Thankfully, by that time, you noticed they had managed to put together a life-net in the middle of the street, away from the crowd of people.

With a sigh of relief, you turned your wings to angle yourself towards the net, twisting in the air at the last second to shield little Lizzie from the impact. Pain shot through your spine as you collided with the net, though it quickly disappeared as a light golden glow enveloped you, quickly healing whatever damage the impact had caused. As soon as the net stopped bouncing, someone gently pried Lizzie from your arms and thrust a bottle at you, which you greedily downed.

"That was an idiotic move," Angela said tersely, already setting to assessing Lizzie's injuries. By the look on her face, it wasn't good. "You could have died in there, Monarch."

You grinned, taking off your goggles and wiping some soot off your face. "Yeah, but I didn't, and we got everyone out. At the end of the day, that's all that matters."

You saw the frown creeping on the edges of Angela's lips, but you knew you were right. What was your job if you weren't helping people? Sometimes if your life wasn't on the line, it meant you weren't doing your job right.

"Monarch! Are you okay, kleinen?" Reinhardt asked, reaching down to gently help you to your feet. His eyes were filled with worry as he looked you over, almost as if you'd not taken near impossible dives before and lived to tell the tale.

"I'm fine, Reinhardt, really," you said, offering a cheery smile as you wobbled unsteadily to your feet. "Just a little dizzy." You waved away the small group of medics, already feeling the soreness in your throat and lungs beginning to fade. Your small burns had long since healed, nothing having been deep enough to take more than a few minutes to heal over. Anyway, those medics had more important people to look after who didn't have an accelerated rate of healing.

"You should let them look over you, kleine biene," the crusader said softly, his heavy hand coming to rest on your shoulders. "At least for your lover's sakes."

"Han and Jess know about my rate of healing, they'll know I'm fine," you insisted, cringing as you saw the swarm of reporters fighting against the line of police meant to keep them away from the Overwatch members that were there that day. "I'm just a little wind-drunk. I'll be steady in a few moments."

"Monarch! Monarch!" The reporters broke through the barrier of bodies, pushing each other in their rush to make their way over to you. As the last hero out of the burning building, and the newest face on the roster, you were their favourite to pester.

"Monarch! What happened in there?" asked one, trying to shove her microphone into your face, only to have it batted aside by another.

"Monarch, how are you still so calm after jumping after a thirteen-storey height?"

"How did the fire start?"

"Why didn't you fly down like normal? Is there something wrong with your wings?"

"Was that an explosion we heard earlier? What was going on in that building?"

"Who was that little girl?"

You hesitated, still smiling brightly at the reporters as you desperately searched for Jack. "Um, no, nothing's wrong with my wings. I just didn't have the energy to fly, I'd used too much getting other people out earlier. I'm calm because I've taken dives like that before, and-"

"And the rest is classified," Jack interrupted, his frown audible behind his mask and visor. "No more questions. Monarch, a word."

"Have the medics looked you over yet?" Jack asked, leading you into the array of emergency vehicles parked near the explosion sight.

"No, they haven't, but I-" you tried to dismiss the idea of being looked over, but Jack wasn't having it. He silenced you with a wave of his hand and ushered the medics over.

"Look her over," he said, the sternness in his voice unmistakeable. You were definitely in for a talking to.

"Commander, I-"

"It's standard procedure, soldier. If you can't follow my orders in the field, you are going to follow procedure afterward, do I make myself clear?" he snapped, his glare tangible through his visor. "Now, please, look her over. If there's so much as a scratch, I want to hear about it."

"Yessir," one of the medics, a colleague you knew by the name of Nairit Mari, said, as he quickly set to giving you the general physical. "Sorry, Bri," he murmured under his breath, offering you a small smile. He, like everybody else, already knew of your condition, of your quick healing. It was what made you such an efficient agent, after all.

The five of you sat in silence, the medics knowing better than to ask too many questions. If you'd had a problem, you would have mentioned it. One of them handed you another bottle of sugar water, which you sipped at while they poked and prodded at your body. You dutifully opened your mouth so they could inspect your throat and mouth for any damage from the smoke inhalation and sat still when they combed through your hair to free it of glass debris. When they were done, they all stepped back, Mari staying while the others left.

"Well, it looks like you're in good condition, Miss Monarch. One of your hindwings was torn, looked like damage from a hot metal slicing through it, but it looks to be healing up just fine. You should be ready to fly again in a matter of minutes at this point," he said, giving you a smile before turning to Jack. "Commander." He gave Jack a salute before he left, leaving you with the quietly furious soldier.

Eyes wide, you spun around, trying to get a look at your wings, which had become difficult as they'd hardened months before and no longer bent forward enough for you to see more than the wing tip. "Did- What? I- When did that happen? I swear I would have felt that!"

"Be still, Monarch," Jack growled, making you freeze in place. "What will it take for you to listen to me? I gave you an order and you willfully ignored it. This isn't the first time you've done it, either. I will not stand for insubordination! If this keeps going, I'm going to have to start benching you, and eventually removing you from the roster permanently."

You frowned, scrunching your brows together as you looked up at him. "You wouldn't."

"Try me, soldier. You're reckless, you take risks that don't need to be taken, you don't follow orders, and you throw yourself into the line of fire every chance that you get. You need to get your act together or-"

"I'm reckless because I can afford to be," you cut in, folding your arms over your chest. "Who else here has such a fast rate of healing? Who else here can walk into a smoke-filled building with minimal risk of permanent damage? Who else here can throw herself out of a thirteen storey window with only the threat of maybe a few broken bones? I throw myself into the line of fire because I know I can handle the pain and I would rather save my teammates than save myself, and I go into those burning buildings because I'd rather risk injury to myself or die trying to save someone than letting them die knowing I could have at least tried."

The Commander was quiet, watching you as you glared at him.

"My job is to save people, Commander. Are you really going to punish me for doing so?"

"Yes. At least until you learn that orders need to be followed- Don't argue with me, soldier. You're benched until further notice," he said, but you could hear the reluctance in his voice. "I'll contact you tomorrow morning with your punishment. Now, go help Angela with the other injured tenants, you are a trained field medic, are you not?"

You hesitated, wanting to argue your case further, but knowing it would get you nowhere. So you turned around and went to help with the victims of the explosion. Beenz, the little bee-bot, hovered near your shoulder, connecting to the omnic parts of your mind to talk with you.

"You should listen to him from time to time, you know," she said, her little voice clear in your mind. It had taken some getting used to, connecting with her. She was originally just supposed to be a support tool, a little bot to help you on missions, but she'd eventually developed a consciousness of her own, which helped especially on those long, lonely missions.

"I know. But I shouldn't have to listen when doing so puts someone else's life in more danger. It's unfair," you thought back, sighing and tugging on your gloves. You hissed as pain shot through your fingertips and quickly pulled off your gloves, sending a few shards of glass cascading to the ground. The cuts on your fingers healed as you watched, leaving little to no blood behind, and suddenly, you were more than glad you'd gotten them. It was a residue from saving Lizzie's life, from getting her out of there before the floor collapsed. It was a reminder that you'd done a good job.

Looking around, you smiled, nodding to the tenets you'd helped evacuate, checking up on a few of them. You stopped and had conversations while helping to bandage up their wounds, using some of the medical grade honey in your kit to help soothe some of the burns. The honey was made specially for you. As a rescue medic, sometimes you found yourself trapped or stuck with victims you had to take care of until the real heroes arrived. The honey, filled with plenty of sugars and Angela's nanotechnology, could serve as emergency energy rations for you, or a salve to spread on burns, cuts, and avulsions to help them heal faster. You had different kinds for different types, and even a few that weren't meant to be used for healing purposes but instead quite the opposite. Each batch was made by a swarm of bee-bots similar to Beenz, but created for the sole purpose of creating your healing kit. Thankfully, none of them had developed a consciousness like your miniature partner had.

As you helped with the victims, you listened to their stories. One was an old woman who lived with her two little dogs, only one of which made it out of the building alive and stuck close to her side, licking the honey from your hands when you were done tending to his owner. Another was a mother visiting her son, another a businessman renting a room for a month, another a chef. Their stories were one of your favourite parts of being a field medic, you loved hearing about their lives, what they did for a living, who was waiting for them back home, what they had been doing before you saved them. Their thanks were all you needed, but the pay from Overwatch wasn't bad either.

"Excuse me, Monarch?" one of the patients called, waving you over as you finished with another victim, an old man who'd barely made it out alive. This new patient was young, probably in her early twenties, and she looked nervous.

Giving her a gentle smile, you came over, wiping your sticky hands off with a disinfectant wipe another medic had handed you. "Yes, miss? Is there something I can help you with?"

She furrowed her brows a bit, but managed a weak smile. "I, uh, I was wondering if you could help me with this?" she asked, holding out her arm which sported a rather nasty third degree burn on her forearm. "I-I-I'm so sorry to bother you, but I've heard your honey relieves wonders, and I-"

"Of course! There's no need to be so nervous, you know. I'm still a person just like you," you said with a knowing grin. You crouched down next to her, removing one of the vials from your belt and set to spreading the salve. Her sigh of relief was audible and made you both chuckle. You talked, though she didn't give up much detail as to her life, and she was a little less nervous when you finished drying the salve.

"That's going to stay hard for at least a day," you said, wiping your hands off on the wipe. "Don't get it wet, and wait for it to fall off on its own. It'll come off when the wound has healed enough for normal topical treatments to still offer relief, if it hasn't healed entirely by then."

"Thank you so much, ah, here." Suddenly, she grabbed you by the hands, pulling you close enough that you were nearly in her lap. Her lips sought out your ear as she pressed something hard into your hands. "Be careful. She's watching."

You yanked yourself quickly away, eyes wide with alarm. The look on the woman's face was serious as she nodded and pushed herself up, not looking back up at you as she wove her way into the crowd.

The object was hard in your hands, the edges poking into your palm. It was a usb drive, old technology that hadn't been used in ages. On it was two words written in black sharpie. Black Wasp.