Four months was how long Kamilah had to wait for Ana's return. Though occasionally marred by doubt at Ana keeping her promise – she had cancelled visits home before – the wait felt considerably shorter than it was. After all, four months was nothing compared to the two years Kamilah had spent hoping for a reunion. And, with something to look forward to, she had more than enough to occupy her mind and buoy her spirits in the meantime.

It was nothing much, really. Though she had plans for places to go, things to do, and meals to prepare for her family, most of her time was spent quelling her own fears. Ana and Fareeha's relationship had been on the rocks for years, and neither had made significant overtures to smooth things over, merely walked on eggshells around each other while using Kamilah as the go-between. It was frustrating, truth be told, and Kamilah hoped to pull the two closer together this time around.

Or, the two stubborn mules could butt heads again, which was just as likely. But Kamilah had trained herself over the long years to focus on the positive, despite a nagging doubt in her gut.

So it was that November arrived, and Kamilah was pouring herself some green tea one night, when she heard a car pull over outside. It was the faintest sound, and Kamilah pricked her ears, listening for the thud of the cab's door, then the click of the front door's lock. She took a long sip of hot tea, then set her cup on the counter, strolling out into the corridor just in time to meet her wife, who walked in with a duffle bag in her hand. The corners of Ana's eyes crinkled as she smiled at Kamilah, dropping her bag on the floor to draw her wife into a hug.

"See, I keep my promises."

"Some of them, at least," Kamilah replied quietly, feeling Ana's laugh as she rested her head on a broad shoulder. Ana squeezed her about the waist, and Kamilah sighed, glad to finally feel this comforting touch she'd missed for much too long.

Reluctantly, Kamilah pulled back. "You didn't eat on the way here?"

"Why would I, when I know my wife will have something for me?" Ana's lips curved in a lopsided smirk.

"You can have the grass on the lawn," Kamilah deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the kitchen, where she did keep some soup and rice for Ana. Just as she crossed the doorway though, Kamilah was given pause.

"Fareeha," she heard Ana say behind her.

A short pause. "Ami."

Kamilah busied herself with the food, popping them onto the stove while she snuck a peek over her shoulder, looking at where Fareeha had walked forward to meet Ana's hug.

Ana laughed softly into Fareeha's shoulder. "I keep forgetting you've grown so tall, little one."

Fareeha's eyes flickered to Kamilah, whose heart sank at her daughter's hesitation. But she nodded, and Fareeha replied, "Not so 'little' now, then."

"You'll always be little to me, dear."

Fareeha took a breath, but an amused huff came in place of the sigh Kamilah had expected. "I guess."

Kamilah was the one to sigh instead, but her heart felt lighter as she turned back to the stove. "Why don't you take your ami's bag up, Fareeha?"

"I'm not that frail yet, dear," Ana said. "But here. Thanks."

Kamilah had pulled a bowl over when she glanced up at Ana, who'd come to stand beside her.

"Did you talk to her or something?"

"No. Maybe," Kamilah relented. "But she's trying."

"I can tell."

She looked over at Ana, and the thoughtful expression on her wife's face. "You are, too."

"I am." Ana crossed her arms, leaning on the counter with a wan smile on her lips. She fell silent in thought, then glanced down at the pot. Her hand reached for the ladle, only to be slapped away.

"You never learn, do you?" Kamilah said.

"Not if I can help it."

They were careful, perhaps a little too careful with each other. Though Fareeha didn't initiate much conversation, she responded to Ana well enough. But it was clear as day that Ana was avoiding that one sore topic which hung between them both. After all, how familiar could she be with her daughter's life without asking about her career as well? It left the two with precious few topics to talk about, and they frequently fell back on Kamilah, who provided an easy escape from potential conflict. Part of Kamilah wished they would just broach the subject and get used to it, yet another part wished she didn't have to sit through another argument again. The tension was heavy enough...but it seemed Ana was of the same mind, with less of Kamilah's reservation.

"How are things?" Ana asked one night, lounging in an armchair with a datapad in hand. "Back in base?"

Kamilah looked away from the television, eyeing Ana cautiously. "They're alright?"

"Oh? I guess Fareeha hasn't landed in the hospital again, huh?"

Faereha looked over, face straight. "No. I figured mama doesn't need all that trouble on her hands."

"Now where's the fun in that?" Ana mused. "But it's just as well you're behaving. How do you find it?"

"Find what?"

"Being a soldier. Is it everything you'd imagined?"

Fareeha took some time to reply. "No. But it's alright."

"Gonna stick with it?"

Fareeha's mouth twitched. "Yes."

Ana clasped her hands together, eyes on Fareeha, so she missed the pleading look Kamilah wore which said 'stop'. "Any plans for the future?"

"Yes. I'll be staying in the army," Fareeha said, obviously picking up on Ana's trajectory. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ana cocked her head, and finally made eye contact with Kamilah, who then averted her own gaze. What Fareeha said was a partial lie, as they knew her end goal, but she was digging her heels in.

"Well, you can still pursue further studies," Ana said slowly. "There are programs you can enrol in."

Fareeha heaved a sigh, sitting up where she'd been lying on the sofa. "Ami. You really wanna go down this road again?"

Ana cocked a brow, and Kamilah sunk further back into her seat. "I'm just trying to discuss your future, Fareeha. You don't have to lock it down so early in life."

"I've decided what I want to do. You're not going to change my mind."

"I know I'm not. But I want you to know there are other–"

"When will you stop, ami!" Fareeha cut in. "Stop trying to undermine my decisions!"

Ana's gaze turned sharp. "I am not trying to undermine you."

"Then why do you keep suggesting alternatives? You're trying to–, to control my life still–"

"I am not, Fareeha." Ana's voice turned cold. "And you'd better watch your tone."

"There you go, treating me like a damn child again."

"If I am treating you like a child, it's because you're acting like one."

Kamilah covered her face with one hand, almost hearing the last string snap in her ears as Fareeha rose to her feet.

"Yeah? Trying to get you of my back is acting like a child, is it?"

"I'm just trying to talk to you, Fareeha–"

"No, don't you dare. You've always tried to pull this shit, and always with the same goddamn tactic. I'm sick of it."

"And I'm getting sick of your attitude," Ana bit back. "Seems being in the army has taught you nothing but aggression, has it?"

"What it has taught me, is to stand up for myself!" Fareeha snapped. "I'm not going to let you try manipulating me anymore!"

"'Manipulate'?" Ana repeated, rising to her feet as well. "Don't you dare paint me as a villain, Fareeha–"

"So what if I do! It's not like you're anything to me anymore!"

She might as well have flung the knife into Kamilah's heart instead. Chest growing tight, Kamilah closed her eyes briefly, blocking out the argument before her. With shaking hands, she pushed herself up from the sofa, and walked quickly up the stairs.

In her desperate need to disengage, she didn't hear the argument grind to a stop behind her, and Ana's voice calling her name.

Kamilah shut the bedroom door behind herself to stifle any noise from the outside. Her hands shook, and she wrung her fingers together as she paced the room, head feeling light. She took deep, slow breaths, unable to clear the tightness in her throat. With much effort, she shook her head empty of troubles and feeling, and stared out of the window. Kamilah ended up standing at the window for a long while, unable to break away from her forced detachment, until the door was swung open.

"That girl is unbelievable," Ana said, shutting the door with a firm thud, and Kamilah was shaken back to her senses once more. She lowered her head as Ana continued, "I was just trying to talk to her, then she flings everything back into my face?"

Kamilah took a breath, steadying herself. "You shouldn't have talked about the army."

"I want to smooth things over, Milah! If I can't talk to her about her damn job, then what's the point of trying to patch up!" Before Kamilah could speak, Ana went on, "Maybe I shouldn't even try. You heard her say it – I'm not anything in her life anymore." She laughed sardonically. "She wants me out of her damn life."

"You're her mother, Ana," Kamilah said.

"Obviously she doesn't think so anymore!"

"Just because she's being irrational doesn't mean you have to be as well!" Kamilah replied. "She's young, she has a temper. You could've been more patient with her–"

"I am not going to be anything with her, not when she has that attitude–"

"Yeah? Is that so? Then maybe I shouldn't try either!" Kamilah snapped, anger flaring. "What, do you think it's easy being middleman to you and Fareeha? We're family, for god's sake! Do you think it's easy to come home, and be reminded every single day that my family can't even talk to each other without fighting? Do you have any idea how it feels? To see this? To try holding everything together, only to have it all–"

Kamilah threw her hands up as her voice cracked. A sob rose to her throat, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. She took a step back as Ana reached for her, but she pushed her wife's hand away. Taking a deep breath, Kamilah wiped the tears that had fallen.

"I'm done," Kamilah uttered thickly. "I'm...done."

Staying out of Ana's range, Kamilah walked out of the room, her feet bringing her to the balcony. She stood there for a long while, mind squeezing tight before letting go, and she fell heavily into the bench. Kamilah didn't leave the balcony that night, but when she opened her eyes the next morning, she found herself back in bed.

Regret was the first thing Ana felt, when Kamilah walked out in the middle of their argument, and she turned back to Fareeha to find that her daughter couldn't even look at her.

Guilt hit her next when she spoke to Kamilah, only to drive her wife to tears.

Anger at herself simmered, then welled up inside her when she found Kamilah sleeping in the balcony, curled up on the bench. She'd carefully lifted Kamilah in her arms, and tucked her wife into bed, stroking her grey hair as she eyed the lines on Kamilah's face. Should she have tried harder? Probably. Most likely. But the years had done little to mellow her temper, and she'd hurt Kamilah in her crossfire with Fareeha.

Like always, a small voice told her, but Ana quashed it as she bent down to kiss Kamilah on the forehead.

The following days were spent with an unspoken distance between the three of them. But like Fareeha, Ana sought to draw closer to Kamilah again – the one caught in the middle, who only tried to smooth things over between her wife and daughter. And, it seemed, the one who took the brunt of their estrangement the hardest.

Ana had gone down to the kitchen, just to fill her water bottle before going for a jog. But she stopped dead in the doorway, and watched as Kamilah swallowed a pill at the counter. Her wife turned around, then froze when she saw Ana – though her hand slipped the packet smoothly into her pocket.

Old habits die hard, Ana thought drily, knowing full well what the medication was.

"Milah." Ana reached for Kamilah, who sidestepped her.

"I'm fine," was all Kamilah muttered, as she walked out of the kitchen.

Ana watched her go, feeling as helpless as she'd been the first time.

That Kamilah was back on antidepressants was worrying. Ana wondered what had pushed Kamilah back on it, if she was the reason – then she stopped wondering. She knew very well that she was part of the problem, that she had left it untended for too long. So when Kamilah took her bike out for a ride one night, Ana sat on the porch, waiting for Kamilah to ride off her tension before speaking with her.

Kamilah was gone for over an hour, not that Ana had much trouble waiting. The night was quiet, peaceful, occasionally broken by the meowing of cats in the distance – and eventually, the soft purr of a powerful engine.

Ana looked up, watching the hoverbike glide smoothly into their driveway. She stood and followed the bike into the garage, waiting as Kamilah dismounted. Her heart felt soft when Kamilah pulled off her helmet and ran a hand through her mussed hair – but Ana steeled herself and moved close when Kamilah looked at her.

"We need to talk."

"We needed to talk years ago, but fine."

Ana felt a twinge in her chest. "You're back on your meds."

"You're surprised?"

The ride had done nothing for her mood, it seemed. "How long?"

Kamilah busied herself with the helmet, checking it over, before setting it in a nearby cabinet. "Last year," she said quietly.

Ana's heart dropped. "Your doctor…"

"Recommended it."

"Why?"

Kamilah snorted, and shook her head. She seemed disinclined to answer, moving around Ana to head for the door into the house, but Ana kept pace with her.

"What happened, Milah?"

"'What happened'?" Kamilah repeated, coming to an abrupt stop. She wore a disbelieving, sarcastic smile as she stared at Ana. "What happened?" Kamilah took a step closer, and Ana stood her ground. "Overwatch. That's what happened, Ana."

"I know my being in–"

"Of course you know, Ana! I know that you know, and that's what hurts the most!" Kamilah wanted to let loose, to start shouting. Ana could see her self-restraint, and half-wished Kamilah would just let go, if only for her own sanity. "I know that my wife has dedicated her entire life to saving the goddamn world, and cannot make time for her family anymore. I know that my wife has so many other pressing matters on hand, that I'm lucky to see her even once a year. I know that my wife has priorities so much bigger than me, that I have to beg her to even come home."

Ana caught the shimmer in her eyes, but the anger was burning too fiercely to give way to tears.

"And you know what's the worst part of it all? That my daughter wants to be just like you. To be in Overwatch." She spat the name as if it were a curse. Kamilah breathed, controlled and deep, staring back into Ana's eyes before stepping away.

Ana reached out, and caught Kamilah's arm this time. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Kamilah barked a laugh, before her face crumpled. She raised a hand to wipe her eyes, still laughing thickly. "If only that were true."

"I mean it, Milah."

"I'll only accept it if you retire," Kamilah muttered. She tried to break away from Ana's grip, but at the tug on her arm, allowed herself to be pulled close.

Ana stared at her wife, wanting to apologise again, but forced it down. No amount of apology could repair the damage she'd done. Instead, she cupped Kamilah's cheek gently, and was relieved when her wife made no move to break away. She stroked Kamilah's cheek with a thumb, as her wife looked back at her.

"At least let me take care of you," Ana offered. "Why don't you move to Zurich for a while? I can rent a house there, and I'll be around for you–"

"Don't kid yourself, Ana," Kamilah replied. "You barely had time for me even when I was in your base."

Ana deflated, but stayed long enough for Kamilah to turn into her palm, closing her eyes briefly before pulling away. Kamilah's voice was flat – it seemed she'd worked her resentment out for the time being.

"This is my home, Ana. I'm comfortable here, and I'm not going to leave, for better or worse." Kamilah sighed. "Besides, Fareeha is here. I'm not going to leave her behind."

Ana nodded quietly as Kamilah made her way to the door. But she looked up when her wife stopped midway.

"About what I said," Kamilah began.

Ana smiled. "Don't tell me you didn't mean it. I know you did."

"I did," Kamilah confessed. "And I'm not going to convince you otherwise. I hate how Overwatch keeps you away." She crossed her arms, looking hesitant for a moment. "But I still love you."

Ana's throat grew tight, and she blinked the tears from her eyes. "Yeah. I love you too."

Kamilah stared back at her for the longest time, then flashed the briefest smile at Ana, and walked into the house.

On the last day of Ana's visit, Kamilah drove Fareeha back to base first, then ferried Ana to the airport. She offered just a tired smile in farewell, and returned Ana's kiss with a softness that made her want to miss the flight. But she didn't – and found herself sitting in a cushy business-class seat in the airplane a few hours later. Before take-off, her mind wandered back to Kamilah, and she reached for her phone.

[Take care of your mama]

Fareeha: [I know]

Ana hesitated, then continued.

[She's on medication. Keep a closer eye on her]

Fareeha: [I have been. For a long time]

So Fareeha had known before her. Ana was...out of touch.

[Ok. Thanks]

Ana set the phone down, and leaned back in her seat, staring out the window.

You know what, Milah? I hate it too.

Knowing Kamilah's feelings did little to deter Ana from her job. After all, she had been aware of her wife's opinion for years. But having it said plainly to her face did help to make an impression in her mind. Ana's focus on her job didn't waver, but she made the effort to keep in touch with her family as well. Where texts and calls had trickled almost to nothing in the recent years, Ana spoke to Kamilah often, checking that her wife was taking care of herself. It was a routine much like in their younger years, and Ana quite relished the renewed connection, even feeling the sharper bite of missing her partner.

With Fareeha, however, things were less warm. Though they could discuss small, inconsequential details of Fareeha's career now and then, her daughter was still unwilling to share much on the subject. Most of the information came from Kamilah, and she knew that her own reputation was still an obstacle Fareeha faced often. So Ana kept their conversations going in little doses, hoping the ease the pressure on Fareeha's shoulders with a bit of familiarity.

And so their lives passed in a relatively peaceful manner for the next four years, until Ana encountered a slight bump in the road which made her heart drop an inch.

She stared at the holo-screen of her computer, and the dossier displayed on the main window. Captain Fareeha Amari of the Egyptian Army had submitted an application to Overwatch, and she had a stellar record which would've encouraged a quick acceptance for any other applicant. Unfortunately for Captain Amari, her mother now held her application, and her fate had been predetermined a long time ago.

With a few quick taps on her keyboard, Fareeha Amari's application was rejected.

Ana let out a breath, and leaned back in her seat. Somehow, that simple action had given her a keener sense of trepidation than anything in recent days. Overwatch's systems were efficient, and she knew the rejection would reach Fareeha's inbox soon.

Sure enough, she received a call from Kamilah later that night.

"So. Fareeha's application to Overwatch was rejected," Kamilah said. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with it?"

"Dear, I had everything to do with it."

Kamilah sighed. "Thought so. I think she knows too."

"Is she upset?"

"Very. She hasn't been out of her room since noon."

"Is she alright?"

"Not right now, I think. But I gave her half the pizza I ordered and a bowl of ice cream. She should be fine...soon."

Ana chuckled, moving from the couch to fall into her bed. "Think I did the right thing?"

"I'm…actually happy you rejected it. As far as I'm concerned, it was the right thing." A short pause. "Does that make me selfish?"

"If you are, then I am too."

Kamilah sighed again. "I want to let her do what she wants, but this…"

"I know, Milah. It's alright. Besides, I'm the one who hit the button. Let her think it's me, okay?"

"Ana…"

"Just let me play the devil. She needs one mother to support her, at least."

"I think she'll want to try again."

"So let her. It'll be alright, Milah."

"If you say so," Kamilah said quietly. "Thanks, Ana."

After the call, Kamilah walked out of her room and bumped into Fareeha, who had trudged up the stairs with a full bowl of ice cream in her hand. Kamilah cocked a brow, and Fareeha groaned.

"It's a second bowl."

"I figured." She patted a hand on Fareeha's head. "Are you alright, habibti?"

"I will be," Fareeha muttered, shoving a huge spoonful cookie dough ice cream into her mouth. She chewed slowly, then asked, "You think ami had anything to do with it?"

Kamilah shrugged. "I don't know. Probably."

"I'm sure she did." Fareeha pouted, biting on a second spoonful. "She's not going to stop me."

"Are you going to apply again?" Kamilah asked, and her daughter nodded – as expected. "It won't work as long as she's there, you know."

"I know, and I don't care. I'm going to keep trying," Fareeha mumbled as if to herself, and walked back to her room.

Kamilah watched her daughter shut the door. "I know you will," she said quietly.