"How goddamn fucking long do they need to line up one fucking shot?!" Khalid yelled through the bulletstorm engulfing their position.

Ana kept her eyes closed and shook her head, busy mouthing a mixture of prayer and curses to whatever higher powers that watched over them. Did they mind cussing? Did language matter? Sincerity was the key, right?

Violent tremors shook the twelfth floor, where they were currently pinned down. The sound of debris crumbling from the building's outer edges mixed with the cacophony of hot lead punching into painted concrete.

Well fuck you too.

Tossing her sudden spark of piety aside, Ana reopened her eyes to discover double the bullet holes decorating the wall she faced. Well, at least there were no craters left by RPGs. Yet. She glanced to her left, where Khalid was hiding behind his own concrete pillar. He pulled a grenade from his belt and, waiting for a rare lull in gunfire, yanked the pin out. Doing his best imitation of a shot putter, he flung it through the demolished wall where full length windows used to be. The rattle of firearms gave way to urgent warning shouts, then a distant explosion.

Ana burst from cover and slid behind a dirty office table, rifle already rested on its sturdy chrome surface. She spotted four insurgents standing away from the explosion, looking up in their direction, and placed a neat bullet hole in each of their heads. Those struggling to stand in the aftermath of the explosion had no chance to react – blood spouted from their chests and they fell back to the ground, lifeless.

As Ana lined up another shot, the remaining enemy platoon turned away from her in unison. Her finger paused on the trigger for a split-second, then squeezed repeatedly. It was like taking out wooden targets at a carnival game booth – easy as all hell. Then her earpiece crackled, answering her silent question.

"This is Mafdet-1. Target Alpha is down. I repeat, Target Alpha is down."

"Took you long enough," Ana said on a private channel.

"Sorry for the delay, Mafdet-2. But he's got a pretty small head for someone leading the entire shithead carnival." Their fellow sniper's laugh carried an audible euphoric high. "Thanks for drawing fire from us, by the way. Anyone hurt?"

"Lucky for you, no. At least, I don't think so," Ana continued the banter, even as the sniper teams took down the disorganised insurgent troops together. "Are we hurt, Issa?"

"We are not, Amari."

Happy though she was, Ana kept a tight rope on the celebratory swell rising from her gut. The insurgent's scattered movements started showing coordination, and they flowed towards a concentrated point in front of the city hall. They were not very bright, it seemed. Ana roved her scope over the armoured bodies until she spotted the source of their new order. She took a breath, then sent a round through the woman's head. Her body had only fallen halfway when Ana took down the gung-ho looking man next to her. There was a complete halt in the insurgent's movement, before they split into two. One half smartly decided to place their weapons on the floor and kneel with hands behind their heads. The other half scattered from the site. After enough bodies had fallen, they started dropping to their knees as well.

The snipers stopped their fire, keeping a tight watch on their surrendered charges until the army had taken control of the area. They stayed in their nests, keeping a lookout as their allies regrouped at the city hall – their new HQ. Much of the tension in Ana's body dissipated as she watched the various squads running down the streets, with many wounded slung over shoulders. She spotted their squad, covered in blood spatters but looking as energetic as ever. Then she saw Safiya running through the city square with a small Sa'ka group. Her lips were a little pale but she still moved strong, a fierce focus sitting where her characteristic gaiety normally was.

Ana started to feel settled in her position, shoulders relaxing until she spotted Deyab. The man was sprinting ahead of his squad, helmet sitting askew on top of messy black hair. He glanced down at the woman he carried in his arms, who clung weakly onto his shoulder, free hand clutching the fabric underneath a combat knife. Embedded up to its hilt between her ribs.

No.

"What?" Khalid asked.

She must have vocalised the thought, but she could not care less. The warm humid air hanging around her grew cold as she tracked Deyab's frantic dash towards their new base camp. Blood had soaked the light-coloured fabric around the knife to a near-black shade. Kamilah's gaze was unfocused, face pale and drawn, twitching in pain with each wide stride Deyab took. Red-stained lips were parted, giving a glimpse of clenched teeth. Her head lolled dangerously from Deyab's shoulder until it fell back limply, eyelids fluttering shut, hand dropping from her wound.

"No. No, no." Each repetition grew louder, and Ana stood unconsciously with her eye still peering through the scope. She dropped her hands when Khalid pulled her back down, asking what was wrong.

"Kamilah, she–" Ana held onto her left, where the combat knife had been on the medic's body. "A knife."

Khalid kept a hand on her shoulder. "Is she with her squad?"

Ana nodded, adjusting her grip on the rifle. She swallowed through a suddenly dry throat, setting her weapon back on the table.

"Then she'll be fine. When you get back to her, she'll be patched up and ready to call us idiots again." He held a hand out towards her sniper rifle. "Do you want to switch or…?"

"No," Ana said, flexing her fingers around the gun to dispel the growing numbness. "We have a job to do."

Disassociate.

Ana took controlled breaths, filling and emptying her lungs, focusing on the rhythm as she turned her attention back to the scope. The mild trembling in her hands slowly stilled as she scanned their surroundings, repeating the drill over and over, falling into an induced calm that shattered the moment they received orders to regroup, three hours later.

Her mind zeroed in on one target, and one target only. Her body moved on instinct the moment they left the sniper's nest. Joyous grins and hard slaps of approval on her shoulders barely left an imprint on her memory at all. Ana kept silent during the whole debriefing, demeanour hard through the praise lavished on the snipers. She shed her body armour and disassembled the sniper rifle mechanically, but was saved the trouble of cleaning them by Khalid. He took the parts in his hands and nodded at the armoury's door.

Ana gave him a grateful squeeze on the shoulder, then flew straight for the field hospital which was conveniently set up in an actual hospital building nearby. They had gotten the power back up and running, stark white lights illuminating grimy floors and dusty furniture. Ana navigated her way carefully through the bustle of activity, searching for…

"Amari."

She stopped in her tracks, facing left to find Deyab standing at the entrance of a ward. His face was clean, though his haggard appearance begged for respite.

"Kamilah–"

"She's stable now. Fuck, Amari." Deyab closed his eyes and shook his head, leaning on the door frame. "I thought we were going to lose her. Her heart stopped for a minute, she was bleeding all over the fucking place, her lung refused to cooperate for a while."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wearing a deep frown. Ana felt a surge of sympathy for the man, who almost lost the last member of his former squad.

"But you brought her through."

Deyab squeezed a laugh past strained vocal chords. "Yes. Yes, I did." He lifted his gaze, pushing himself away from the door frame. Pointing at the corner of the ward, he said, "Far left, at the end. And Amari."

Ana, who had walked past him, paused again to meet his tired gaze. The man stared at her unblinkingly for a few moments, before nodding slowly.

"Be gentle with her. She's been through enough."

She cocked her head, but the man turned away and walked out of sight. Leaving the unanswered questions for later, Ana made her way past the various drawn partition curtains, then slipped through the one Deyab had pointed out.

Kamilah lay peacefully on the hospital bed, wearing a loose off-white gown. An IV drip was attached to her left arm, and a pulse oximeter was clipped on her fingertip. Colour had returned to her skin, but it was still pale enough to set her heart off again. Ana stood at the foot of the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as if to catch a stutter in breath. Satisfied after a prolonged observation, she took the chair sitting in the corner and settled to the right of Kamilah.

Relief soothed the ache in her chest, granting her reprieve from the constant burn of anxiety. She sat in silence, air conditioning slowly turning her sticky fatigues chill against her skin. A shiver ran down her spine and she looked down, realising how dirty she was. Her skin and clothes were covered in dirt and dust and gunpowder, stray hair escaping its bun to stick to her jaw. If Kamilah was awake to see her like this, Ana would no doubt receive a reproving look and be chased out of the ward. She laughed soundlessly at the thought, raising her eyes to the sleeping medic. Part of her wished Kamilah would open her eyes right now and do just that. Sit up and chide her for dirtying the hospital, then sigh exasperatedly as Ana left a trail on the floor with her boots.

After a lengthy internal struggle, Ana decided to go clean herself up and rose slowly from the chair.

"I'll be back soon, alright?"

Ana returned to the ward freshly scrubbed, smelling faintly of some citrus and floral scented soap bar a squad mate lent her. There were several visiting soldiers around as well, sitting beside their friends and knocking back a few. Some in honour of their victory, some in memory of their fallen comrades. There was a particularly merry group in Kamilah's ward, and Ana had an open bottle of beer shoved into her hands as she passed by them. She laughed a thanks, then slipped back into the corner cubicle, where its occupant still lay unconscious. Heaving a sigh, she sat in the same spot and emptied the bottle in silence.

She woke the next morning with a crick in her neck from falling asleep in the chair, head bent at an uncomfortable angle towards her right shoulder. After an entire day of patroling and being tricked by Khalid into turning her head where it hurt – for the first couple of times – Ana went straight back to the ward after hitting the showers.

That night, she walked through the partition to a welcome sight. Kamilah was awake and flanked by Deyab and another medic, who were checking her vitals and asking her a list of questions. The patient's quiet replies halted abruptly at Ana's arrival, mouth curving the instant her gaze landed on the sniper. Ana returned the smile, though she stood in the corner as ordered by Deyab while he finished her examination. It did not take long – they switched out the IV bag for a full one, injected her with a painkiller, and then waved Ana over.

"Feeling better?" she asked, sitting next to the bed.

"Much. But still not great." Kamilah sounded weak, and had to take frequent breaths between words.

"She had a knife in her lung yesterday, Amari," Deyab said as his colleague left the cubicle. "What did you expect?"

"Come to think of it, what happened?" Ana asked, letting the sarcasm fall aside. "Someone shooting knives back there?"

A dark pall fell over Deyab's expression. "Squad of bastards surrendered to us. We were about to tie them up when one pulled a knife out of nowhere. Would've stuck it in Rahal's back if Shadid didn't pull her away." He nodded at his wounded colleague.

Ana growled. "And? What happened?"

"Their surrender was a trick, firefight broke out, and we won. Bastards," Deyab spat. He looked to be on the brink of a tirade, but someone called his name from outside the cubicle. The captain took a deep breath, shaking his head, and waved vaguely at the women. "Don't talk too long, Shadid. You're still weak."

"Really. I wasn't aware."

The sniper bit down on her lip to stop the smile from showing. Deyab rolled his eyes and left just as his name was called again, barking irritably in reply. Waiting until his voice had faded into the distance, Ana turned back to the patient, whose gaze was already on her.

"Admiring the view?" Ana said reflexively, hiding the sudden lick of self-consciousness.

"Deyab told me you spent the night here."

"Yeah. After four straight days of fieldwork and some beer, I can sleep just about anywhere." Trying to ignore how breathless Kamilah's eyes made her, Ana pulled her chair closer to the bed. Then she paused uncertainly. "But if you want to rest, I can leave–"

"No. Stay."

Ana hooked her fingers onto the front of the seat to stop her antsy legs from carrying her away. The usual comfortable privacy afforded by the partition curtains invoked in her a sudden urge to flee while spouting a thousand flippant jokes. What the hell was getting into her?

Then she realised she had been staring blankly at the bedsheet while Kamilah looked on in silence. There was a trace of concern in the slight lift of her eyebrows.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"So am I. Thought I was done for back there." Kamilah wore a small smile that just did not resonate with the sniper.

"Me too," Ana said. "I saw Deyab carrying you to base. I thought you were–" She could not finish the sentence, eyes moving to where the knife had been on Kamilah's body. "I thought I was going to…"

Fuck. I thought I was going to lose you.

"You thought you were going to…?" Kamilah filled in heavy silence for her. "Jump off the building? Again?"

An inelegant snort blew through her nostrils, turning into a quiet laugh. She lifted her gaze when Kamilah tapped at a corner of her mouth, which was curved in a smile.

"Much better."

Fingertips lingered for a short second, leaving an invisible mark on warm skin. Ana caught her hand as it withdrew, pressing palm-to-palm in a firm yet tender hold, which was returned with a weak grip.

"If it meant getting to you faster, I'd jump off a skyscraper."

Kamilah laughed. "Romantic, but unrealistic."

"Not if I have a parachute."

"Then jump with fireworks in the background."

"Now you're being unrealistic," Ana said between sniggers, though she quietened when Kamilah grimaced slightly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I just feel a little…" She placed a hand over her ribs, where the wound was. "Odd. Don't look so worried," she added when Ana shifted forward in her chair. "It's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Who's the doctor here?"

"You are," Ana sighed, letting Kamilah tug their hands down to rest by her side.

Running a thumb over the back of Ana's fingers, Kamilah said, "Speaking of unrealistic, were you hurt?"

"Not a scratch," Ana declared proudly, lifting her chin as the medic arched a brow and gave her a once-over. "It seems you owe me that dinner."

Then she fully processed what Kamilah just said. "What do you mean, 'unrealistic'?"

"I didn't expect you to come through."

"Wow. Thanks a lot."

"If it's any consolation, I planned to let you win even if you were hurt."

"Really?" She grinned at the affirmative nod. "Be careful, Kamilah. You're starting to go soft on me."

"Never."

"Good. It'd be weird–" Ana paused when a voice rang clear across the ward, announcing lights-out within ten minutes. She sat undecided for a while, listening to chairs being dragged across the floor as other visitors started to leave.

"Would you…like me to go?" she asked, only to have the grip around hers tighten.

"Do you want to?"

"Not really."

"Then don't ask silly questions."

Ana scoffed. "It's not silly. Not many people can fall asleep with someone watching them, you know."

"True. But not many people have someone like you."

In that moment, she could feel her puppy tail wagging so fiercely it almost came into existence. Ana was ready to roll over at a single command and damn, was she more than willing to do so.

"Someone like me?" she asked.

"Yes," Kamilah drawled. "You have a face that puts me to sleep."

She blinked as the medic was overtaken by laughter. "What's that even supposed to mean? That didn't– Shit, are you alright?" Ana rose halfway from her chair when Kamilah grimaced again, the crease between her brows deeper this time.

"Five minutes!" came the voice outside.

Ana touched her cheek, drawing Kamilah's attention as she regained control of her breathing. "Shush. You should rest now."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"A professional patient's opinion, yes," Ana replied smoothly, sitting back in her seat. "This is usually where you'll tell me to shut up and rest, isn't it?"

"Mm. Then you'll grumble like a child."

"I'm not that bad."

"If only that were true."

"You're lucky you're hurt, Kamilah. If not, I'll…"

"You will…?" Kamilah said, with a quirked brow. "Stumble over your words and run away with a blush?"

"I don't–"

As if in pity, the lights were switched off. The ward was plunged into darkness, hiding the warmth that swept over her cheeks. She could feel Kamilah's upper body shaking in silent mirth. Damn this woman.

Kamilah slipped her hand from Ana's, pressing it against flushed skin. "You are blushing."

"I'm not," Ana muttered, peeling the hand from her face.

"Are you pouting as well?"

"No." She quickly pulled Kamilah's hand away before it could move to her lips, which were pouting.

"You are, aren't you?"

"Just–just go to sleep."

She heard one last chuckle before the medic relented, lowering her hand.

"I'll let you off just this once."

"Growing soft, Shadid."

"Don't count on it, Amari."

They stayed in Abu Minqar for three more busy weeks. While one half of the army helped the local garrison guide displaced refugees home, the other half hunted down the scattered remains of the insurgency. Ana's company was one of the hunters – raiding safehouses and makeshift bases, taking prisoners, rescuing civilian hostages used as bargaining chips. The soldiers made quick work of the demoralised insurgents, and returned to the Minqar camp in just two weeks. At the end of which, Ana presented her still-unwounded self to a livelier Kamilah in the hospital ward. The medic had recovered steadily in her absence, and was able to greet the sniper while sitting upright, wearing the brightest smile that sent Ana's stomach doing flip-flops.

She spent the last week on lookout duty with Khalid. Whatever free time she had was split between Kamilah and Safiya, though her sister did get the larger share due to their imminent separation. They had a video call with their father, poking fun at the worry lines on his face and assuring him they were okay. It was a relatively short exchange – just general life updates and settling dates for a reunion. Any more personal discussions were saved for a face-to-face – a routine they had lived with their whole lives.

When Ana's company was finally flown back to Heliopolis, they were given two weeks' worth of block leave which all claimed without hesitation. Many seized the chance to go back to their families, but Ana was one of the few who stayed back at base. Her own family was busy, but just as well. It gave her more time to spend on the second floor of their barracks.

Kamilah spent the first few days of leave resting in her own room. Her ribs still felt tender, and though she felt well enough to take leisurely strolls around base, preferred to regain her strength before being thrown back into work again. Part of Ana felt grateful that her entire squad was off base. Almost every minute Kamilah spent outside – or inside, for that matter – the sniper was right next to her. It spared her from their obnoxious teasing. For now, at least.

She sighed at the thought, rolling onto her side on the floor. Then she jolted up when Kamilah sneezed and grunted from the impact, going still for a moment on her bed. The medic chuckled when she caught sight of Ana's observant gaze, and pushed at her forehead.

"I'm fine. Don't look so worried."

"I'm not worried." Ana leant her chin on the bed, bringing her tablet to the front. "Just thought I could see someone sneezing their lungs up."

"How macabre."

"Not like you haven't seen worse."

"I meant your sense of humour."

"Whatever." She scrolled idly through the newsfeed, skimming through reports of the aftermath of the army's victory, updates on the relocation of civilians and reconstruction of destroyed infrastructure. It felt odd to be sitting there peacefully after all the fighting. No orders to follow, no smell of dust and gunpowder, no ache in her body. Such a jarring change – not unwelcome, but it left her fingers twitching restlessly.

Ana closed her eyes, letting the tablet fall to the mattress. How sad a person that made her, she wondered. Feeling lost without a war to fight.

A soft touch on her bicep made her look up at Kamilah, whose countenance somehow seemed more radiant than the brilliant sunlight pouring through the open window. Ana smiled – maybe she was not that lost after all.

"Didn't know you were into guns," she said, watching Kamilah's brows crinkle in momentary confusion. Dark brown eyes landed on where her hand sat, and widened in understanding. Ana received a slap on her bicep when she started snickering.

"I was going to ask if you're tired," Kamilah said. "You should return to your room, if you are."

"No, I'm not. Just bored," Ana sighed, turning the tablet over in her hands repeatedly. "There's nothing to do around here."

"Then why don't we go out soon?"

That grabbed Ana's full attention, snapping her spine upright. "Finally going to settle your debt?"

Kamilah hummed in the affirmative.

"Do you have somewhere in mind?" Ana asked.

"Yes."

"And?"

"How does this Saturday sound?"

Ana grinned. "Like Beyoncé at a live concert. Beautiful."

"I never really listened to Beyoncé," Kamilah said. She tilted her head in curiosity when one long minute stretched into two, Ana staring at her in stunned silence.

"Then we have a major fucking problem."

A/N: Look. If Reinhardt can listen to Hasselhoff, then Ana can listen to Beyoncé, aight.