Fareeha: [She's not gonna stay]
Fareeha: [You saw what she brought?]
Fareeha: [Just a duffle and backpack]
[I know.]
Fareeha: [I mean, what's even the point]
Fareeha: [If she's just gonna be like she always was]
[Habibti, stop thinking about it.]
[You're away, you should take the time for yourself.]
Fareeha: [I'm trying but I can't]
[I'll handle things here. Just focus on work, alright?]
[Or better yet, try to relax.]
Fareeha: [Mama]
Fareeha: is typing…
Fareeha:
Fareeha: is typing…
Fareeha:
Milah: [Yes?]
Fareeha: [Just tell me if you need anything, ok]
[Ok.]
For the first time in a very long while, Kamilah took a good, hard look at herself in the mirror. There was nothing quite out of the ordinary; the white hair and wrinkles were nothing new, though her eyes lingered on them as always, pondering the swift passage of time while she was distracted by more...important matters. She thought she'd aged better than expected – much more graceful than the exhausted, decrepit waif she'd glimpsed in the mirror in the depths of her depression. Something to take solace in, she supposed, but her tired eyes offered a slight cause for worry – they bore a quality she hadn't seen since the aimless days of her youth.
The reminder was a slap to the face, more jarring than any physical blow could deliver. She'd left this lost, pitiful soul back in the blurry jumble of fading memories she'd rather lose forever. This woman who'd given up on herself long before she was even aware. Somehow, even with a family she'd yearned for in the past, Kamilah had slid back into her old self. Lost, unsure of her next actions, with a future as uncertain as her own heart.
She huffed a bitter laugh, lips curved incredulously as she stared back into her own eyes. After all these years of living – beyond her expectations – life had decided to send her stumbling back to the starting line, huh? To undo all those years of progress, to make a mockery of all that she'd achieved, while she still held all the pieces of her happiness in both hands. No…she shouldn't have to take this. She won't take this.
Fingers tightening on the cool porcelain of the sink, Kamilah gritted her teeth, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. On the exhale, the unease in her veins slipped into unnatural calm, her mood condensing into a cold, logical state which offered one solution to her troubles: to speak. To what end, Kamilah had no idea. All she had was days, years worth of things to be said, and it was all she could do to trust them to spill out when needed, as she straightened herself and marched out of the bathroom.
Her mind was in a whirl as she strode down, and when she found Ana in the kitchen – sitting casually on a seat with a finished plate of food, looking up at her – Kamilah's mind screeched to an uncomfortable, dead silence.
"Oh, you got up late today," Ana said, after swallowing some tea. "I was going to put your food in the–"
"We need to talk."
Ana paused at Kamilah's brusque interruption, blinked, then met Kamilah's steely stare with an inscrutable one of her own. After the longest minute, Ana slowly broke into a smile.
"We do, don't we?"
"What are you trying to do?" Kamilah proceeded without preamble, and Ana took it perfectly in stride. When Ana offered nothing more than a tilt of the head, she continued, "You've been here for a week. A whole week, and I still can't tell what you're trying to do."
A wry smile creased the corners of Ana's lips. "You know, that's...a very good question. I've been asking myself the same thing, long before I even came back."
"And?"
"Truth is, I...don't know. What I'm trying to do, specifically? I can't give you a good answer. I just know that I need to be here. Back home." Ana lapsed into silence, gaze falling in thought. "The whole time I spent in hiding, I tried convincing myself, over and over, that it would be better for all of you that I was dead. Think I even believed it myself, for a time. Maybe I still do." Her voice dropped into a whisper, then faded. "But I couldn't stop thinking about you. All of you. How I still owed you the truth as long as I was still alive. How I still have to...make up for the consequences of the lie."
Kamilah snorted, crossing her arms as she shifted on her feet, growing restless where she stood before the table where Ana sat. Anger licked at her, and Kamilah caught onto it, fuelling her on. "'Consequences'. What a nice, convenient way to put it."
The resentment must've shown in her voice, because Ana's eye – which had drifted away as she spoke – snapped back to her. When Ana spoke, her voice was soft, "I know it couldn't have been easy on you–"
"It wasn't, Ana," Kamilah bit back roughly. "It damned well wasn't. You knew me. You knew what would happen to me if I'd lost you. How it would–" She choked on her words, throat squeezing painfully as she glared back at her wife. "And knowing that you chose to hide yourself away despite it all, makes it so much worse."
"I thought the short-term pain would be better for you, instead of letting you deal with me for the rest of your life–"
"That's not your decision to make!" Kamilah's voice cracked briefly. "It's my damn life, not yours, or anyone else's! And I am the one who gets to choose what to do with it, what I experience with it, not you!"
"I just thought–"
"You're so damned arrogant, Ana!" Catharsis broke through with her shout, spurring her on. "And you've been like this for such a long time, I just chose not to acknowledge it!"
Heavy silence fell over them at the end of Kamilah's outburst, and neither woman tried to break it. In fact, neither knew how to break it; Kamilah had grown mute from the tumult of buried grievances clogging her throat, and Ana's composure seemed to have finally broken – even if nothing gave it away save for the slight widening of her eye.
Then Ana took a breath, and exhaled audibly. A dry smile curved her lips. "I suppose I deserved that. And...looks like that's been a long time coming."
"Too long."
"Agreed." Ana's smile withered to a cynical, crooked line. "We have a few years to discuss, it seems."
"More than a few years, Ana. Many more."
"Too many." Ana sighed, clasping her hands together. "Well, seems clear what I should do, then. I would like to stay and talk this out – every little issue we have between us, no matter how long it takes." Ana regarded Kamilah's stony expression, then added, "If you would let me?"
Kamilah clenched her jaw and, with more effort than expected, nodded.
Ana smiled once more. "Great. Now, would you like to sit and eat first? This is going to take a while, I'm guessing."
She hesitated, glancing between Ana and the plate laid out for her at the table.
"I'll keep quiet if that helps your appetite for now."
Despite herself, Kamilah rolled her eyes. And, ignoring her better judgement, Kamilah pulled the plate to a seat farthest from Ana, and sat at the table.
It was an odd experience, to sit and eat calmly after a brief lashing out at Ana. Kamilah didn't look her in the eye, and Ana left her in peace while she ate, but they managed to set a few ground rules with equally few words. Any one of them could initiate conversation whenever they wanted, and either had the power to cut the conversation short if they needed space to breathe, or some time to themselves.
An agreeable system, though Kamilah didn't put it to use that day.
Then she tried a few times after, catching hold of Ana when they crossed paths. But each time, she opened her mouth only to find out she had nothing to say. No words to carry her thoughts forth. To Ana's credit, she didn't give much away save for a smile and a soft, indulgent gaze as Kamilah backpedalled and muttered apologies for the sudden, awkward stop.
After that, Kamilah sat herself down and put pen to paper, jotting down the little things she had to say to Ana – who seemed plenty amused when she first pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
Noticing Ana's smile, which she tried to hide by biting the bottom of her lip, Kamilah said drily, "Maybe you should start planning these too."
"But I wing everything I do, don't you know?" Ana smirked, then her eyes drifted away. "Except your proposal…and our wedding. And Fareeha."
She spoke mostly to herself, as if in afterthought, but her words still knocked the wind from Kamilah's chest, replaced with guilt which sours with a sliver of resentment.
"Maybe you should've planned more than that, then."
Ana stared at her for a long while, face unreadable, then conceded with a small smile. "Yes, I should have." She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, before looking back at Kamilah. "Alright, let's do this. What do you have on that paper of yours?"
Kamilah glanced down at her note, and suddenly all her scribbles seemed so...unimportant. But she took a breath, and went on, "About your 'death'. I just want you to know that I don't hold anything against you for that."
"How do you hold anything against anyone's death, really?"
"True enough," Kamilah replied flatly. "But my point is...it must've been difficult for you as well. And I wish you'd have came back after you recovered, so that I could help you."
Ana tried to hold her gaze, but seemed unable to, and dropped her own.
"I wish you would've trusted me to take care of you, no matter what state you were in. It was part of our vows, Ana. Through thick and thin. It seems you've forgotten that a long time ago." Kamilah swallowed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you didn't come home. You've been distant from us for more years than I care to count. Ever since Overwatch began."
"I know," Ana said quietly. "There's so much that I saw in Overwatch that I can never tell you. So much that I wanted to confide in you, but I couldn't – not if I wanted to keep you safe. At first it was just about my work, but then...I pulled myself away too. Away from everything else. A habit spilling over, I guess. And I'm sorry that I allowed it to. Truly."
She fell silent, then looked up at Kamilah. "You know that I still love you, right? Very much. I always have."
Kamilah took a breath, feeling her throat ache in protest, then desisted before the tears could well up. The piece of paper in her hand shook, and she folded it back into half, slipping it into her pocket. She stood, took a few steps away, then turned back to look at Ana, seated on the couch.
"I love you too," Kamilah whispered, so easily she caught herself off-guard. "That's what makes this so difficult."
"I know the feeling."
"You said I became distant, and I agreed."
They were in the backyard this time, sitting on the steps of the small porch.
"So I'll be honest now. Or try my best to be, anyway." Ana fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweater. "I said I kept things from you because I wanted you to be safe. That's not all of it." A slight pause. "One of our agents...had a family member kidnapped, then turned against us. Managed to kill that agent."
"Who?"
A wry smile. "Doesn't matter. Point is, this is why I was scared. I didn't want to get any of you involved with anything about Overwatch. Even if it's just knowing certain details."
"I don't need external help to kill you, Ana," Kamilah deadpanned, and Ana burst into a hearty laugh that might have shaken the leaves of the lone tree in their backyard. Ana's hand landed on Kamilah's knee, and she stared at it for a moment, before Ana jerked it back when she realised what she'd done.
"Sorry," Ana mumbled, but Kamilah had already let it slide.
"You should've told this to me long ago," she said. "To me and Fareeha. I know what you do is dangerous, but even if you'd just said 'I want to keep you safe', it would've meant much more than saying nothing. I thought you were losing interest in your family, Ana. Fareeha thought you didn't care anymore."
"I know. She's always been so angry at me. Still is," Ana chuckled flatly. "Some things never change."
"Tell me you're not going to leave things like this."
"I won't. Promise."
"Would you mind telling me something?" Ana asked, sitting forward in the wooden park bench as she looked over the small pond they sat by.
"Hm?"
"Fareeha. How has she been?"
"She's been fine. Strong. So damned strong, even after all that's happened." Kamilah frowned. "After we heard the news of your death, she just...kept going. Even after I'd laid down to…" Her voice trailed off, and she determinedly ignored Ana's curious glance. "She mourned, I could tell. But she still took care of me. Put me first before any of her own needs."
"You raised her well."
Kamilah locked her fingers together, squeezed. "I shouldn't have...relied on her as much as I did, but she never complained once. Even changed jobs so she could keep a better eye on me."
"Yeah, that was a surprise. I never thought she'd leave the army of her own will," Ana said, a note of laughter in her voice, which died out quickly. "But then again, with the way Overwatch crashed and burned… Being an Amari in the army would be difficult, huh."
"She never said anything, but...I could guess."
Ana sighed quietly, lowering her head. "And the tattoo?"
Kamilah glanced over at Ana's hushed tone, but the headscarf obscured her face from view. "To honour your memory."
"So I gathered," Ana said drily. "Remember what I said about being scared for you both? I didn't want her to follow in my footsteps because I was afraid she would come to harm. That she would end up the way I am now."
"I've said this a thousand times before, Ana. You don't get to dictate her life. You've already inspired her to choose the path she wants in life, and that's enough. Let go and allow her to make her own way."
"I don't want her to end up hurt."
"That's not something in your power to prevent."
"I know."
"And I'm not the one you should talk to about her. Promise me you'll talk to Fareeha yourself. Without the both of you fighting."
Ana chuckled, leaning back in the bench. "I'll try, Milah. I promise."
Life had slowly slid back into its normal, boring state since Ana's return had disrupted it over a week ago. Kamilah didn't leave the house to get some air or escape from the returned ghost in her home anymore, and merely looked for a chance to stretch her legs and look up at the clear skies – a reliable method of regulating her mood. She didn't find her mind endlessly twisting itself into knots over Ana anymore, having accepted that her wife wasn't going anywhere for the time being; in fact, she'd even started to factor Ana back into her daily life, after such a long time of having her wife out of sight and mind.
She sighed as she dropped two boxes of tea leaves into the shopping cart – the two which Ana always loved brewing together – and then had her mind completely distracted by the familiar voice of a neighbour.
"Kamilah! Nice to see you out and about. I was getting worried when I haven't seen you around for the past week."
Kamilah flashed a quick smile at Amirah – wife of an engineer, in her late 30s – and continued strolling down the aisle as her neighbour rolled up beside her cart.
Amirah looked her up and down, left and right, then asked, "Didn't bring your friend along, huh?"
"My friend?" Kamilah asked slowly. Why would she mention Khalid or Mesi or anyone out of the blue–?
"The one at your house?"
Her brows rose as she glanced at Amirah, then tore her eyes away as she hurried to find an answer. "Oh. Um…she's not–"
"Oh come now, there's no need to be shy. It's good that you've found someone to share your time with! In fact, you're looking so much better now!"
Kamilah looked at her incredulously, but decided to bite her tongue at Amirah's obvious enthusiasm. This woman's sincere, at least. If only she wasn't so…exuberant. "I...well. If you say so. But don't talk about it to anyone, alright?"
"Oh, I get it. Hush hush. No problem."
"Thank you."
Kamilah smiled politely and waved her neighbour goodbye as they wandered down different aisles. When she was alone, Kamilah let out a sigh and rolled her eyes at Ana – who, unfortunately, wasn't there to see it.
The kind of rubbish you get me into…
It'd been a long time since Ana allowed herself to be absorbed in doing anything normal and thoroughly civilian. After all, a vigilante's ingrained instinct to be always alert, even in a safe house, wasn't compatible with one's enjoyment in a castle-defense mobile game. Back in the Necropolis, Ana Amari couldn't afford such little distractions as placing artillery on a long, curving road to thwart a goblin invasion. In the Amari home, however, Kamilah Amari's wife could shuffle along the floor, tapping diligently on the screen and listening to satisfying bleep-bleeps from the phone in her hands, until she bumped into Kamilah Amari in surprise.
"Oh, sorry," Ana said automatically, looking up at Kamilah – whom she gave a quick once-over. Her wife wore a simple shirt with sleeves that reached her elbows, dark pants, and had a brown leather jacket slung over one arm. "You're going out?"
"Yes," Kamilah replied, giving Ana only a passing glance as she walked to the front door, pushing a wallet into her jacket's pocket. Picking a pair of shoes from the rack, Kamilah turned around and gave Ana a flat stare. "It's your death anniversary."
"Oh," Ana said, watching as Kamilah sat on a stool to pull the shoes on. "But...you know I'm alive."
"Yes. But your friends don't know that."
Right on cue, the sound of a car driving up to the house reached their ears. A couple of beeps on the car horn, and Ana knew exactly who was driving.
"That's Khalid, isn't it?" Ana said, and Kamilah nodded. "Who else?"
"Your old squad."
"Ah. They're accompanying you this time? Since Safiya's out of state?"
"They accompany me every time," Kamilah said.
"That's nice." Ana smiled, then shrugged. "Well, have fun."
"Oh yeah, I will," Kamilah replied, monotonous. "How many people get to stand over the empty grave of their living spouse?"
"Not many," Ana said, nodding sagely.
"Man, can you believe that I still kinda miss this bitch?"
"Yes, Khalid," Mesi replied.
"Wish she's still around."
"We know, Khalid. You say that every time we come here," Layla said, elbowing him in the ribs like always.
"Why not? Maybe if I say it enough, it'll come true."
"Beware what you wish for," Kamilah deadpanned, not looking up from the tombstone. Little did they know, Khalid might've wished for it too much.
"Yeah, Khalid," Hakim chuckled, knocking his walking stick at Khalid's shins. "Do you really still want her to be dragging you around tall places? Falling off from buildings?"
"Oh, please," Khalid snorted. "I bet she can't even climb that well at this age. I know I can barely climb up the stairs in my own house now."
"Yeah, you can," Layla chipped in. "It's just that you complain a fuck lot when you gotta go up to get something."
"I'm old and I reserve the right to be a grumpy old bum," Khalid retorted, putting on mock airs before he cracked into a grin at the pinches he received on his arms.
Kamilah stood quietly by the tombstone, listening to the squad chatter and jab at one another, all of them still boisterous and upbeat when together. 'Trouble in a pack', as Khalid's son liked to call them, and Kamilah tended to agree with the assessment. She supposed it was fortunate that they'd outgrown their penchant for hitting the bottle and making a mess of themselves.
She looked them over, all with grey hairs and lines on their faces, creases which grew more noticeable with their shining, youthful grins. Some things never change, Kamilah mused, and that included all the fond talk about Ana in their gatherings. Being with the group since Ana's 'death' had been quite the experience – their grief over her had been strong, but they'd banded together to pull Kamilah from the pits she'd fallen into, turning into a family unit to support the Amari in their loss. And when she'd finally raised her head to look at them proper, they were already pitching jokes about Ana at each other – subtly around Kamilah, of course. Their way of processing the loss, Kamilah supposed, and allowed them pull her into the centre of this tight-knit group.
Kamilah listened, and had to bite on her lip to keep from voicing the irony. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved a better friend than one who'd rather them believe her dead. These idiots loved Ana so damned much, spoke of her with misty eyes and memories turned pristine and happy over the years. But...this was Ana's point, wasn't it? For the pain to be short-term, to offer them happiness in the long run.
But… Kamilah gazed at the squad, now passing out cans of iced tea among themselves. Don't they deserve to know the truth as well?
And maybe, if Ana was back with them, she'd also know just how cherished she is here, among friends.
The thought hit Kamilah like a hammer to the head, and she had to fight to keep her face straight as she accepted a can from Hakim.
Ana had been separated, isolated from her friends for so long. Her duties in Overwatch had demanded it so. Yet even in her absence, Kamilah had never once witnessed Ana being forgotten in their gatherings. Perhaps...Ana felt that she had to stay away, because all that time she'd spent alone had made her forget how it felt to be surrounded by her friends back home. She'd traded comfort and familiarity with loved ones for the heavy responsibility of safeguarding the world, bearing an unthinkable burden that had taken over her life.
Kamilah's heart ached, and she regretted not dragging Ana out with her; though she knew discretion was better than throwing her wife into a group of friends who might hug or punch her at the sudden revelation of her survival.
One day, hopefully, Kamilah thought, pulling a smile onto her face as she held the can up with the rest. One day, Ana could be reunited with them once more.
A/N: Tough times all around. Stay safe and keep strong, peeps.