[Fareeha, read this when you have some time. I've been thinking.]

[When you're ready, I want you to come home. Talk to your ami. I know this is the last thing you want to hear, and you're still angry at her. You've been angry for years. But I don't want you to go on like this. It's not healthy.]

[You should talk to her, if not to work things out, then at least have some form of communication with her. Going about our lives pretending she doesn't exist is not going to help. Not in the long run, anyway.]

[It's difficult to deal with her, I'm well aware. But try, at least? And when you do, I want you to think for yourself first. Your own feelings, your own well-being. I know part of your anger's for my sake, but I want you to deal with this for yourself. Just yourself.]

[You've taken care of me, and I thank you for that. But I want you to watch out for yourself too, okay?]

[Promise you'll think it over?]

Fareeha: [Sorry was busy at work]

Fareeha: [Yeah, I know I'm gonna have to talk to her eventually. Thing is, I can't even control my temper when I just think about her being home. I just get so]

Fareeha: [I don't know. I need more time. But I'll be back when I'm ready, I promise.]

[Thank you.]

[Sorry to drop all that on you like that.]

Fareeha: [Oh yeah you'd better be]

Fareeha: [Saw that first message and sat down on the floor just to be safe]

Fareeha: [Nearly broke my project with my ass]

[Haha. What project?]

Fareeha: [Secret]

[That's not cryptic at all.]

Fareeha: [You'll see it soon]

Fareeha: [ :) ]

One question had lodged itself in the back of Kamilah's mind since Fareeha's text from a few days ago, and though she hadn't given it much thought, it started digging into her. She suspected with growing dread that they knew the answer already, but this certainty clashed with that stubborn bubble of hope which had grown since Ana's return, and the resulting emotional conflict pushed Kamilah first into impatience, then restlessness. A desperate cling to blissful ignorance held her tongue at first, but she'd lost her grip this night, and marched up to the study.

Ana sat in her half of the office, with old books and papers stacked neatly in short piles on her desk, organised into things to throw or keep. But Ana's attention wasn't on her old possessions at the moment; she sat quietly in her chair, posture always smart and upright. In her hands was a pocket edition of a book she'd never in her life expected Ana to touch unironically. Kamilah had spotted the Qur'an among Ana's belongings from time to time, but never thought too deeply into it...until now.

"Ana."

"Oh, f–," Ana spat as she jumped in her chair, swivelling around to look at Kamilah. Her startled expression carried an edge of cold alertness, which melted away under Ana's good humour. "God, Milah. If I didn't know better, I would've thought you were a trained spy."

Kamilah tilted her head, face plain, while Ana set the Qur'an in a desk drawer. It wasn't until Ana turned around with an expectant smile on her face, that Kamilah started – albeit reluctantly, what with Ana's good mood.

"I have a question. I want you to be honest with me."

"Of course."

"Are you going to stay this time?"

Ana's lips twitched as her smile slowly faded, along with the spark in her eyes. She didn't reply, long enough to make Kamilah uncomfortable.

"The silence is your answer."

"Milah…"

Kamilah took a moment to compose herself, calm shattered despite expecting this response. Growing anger licked at her, and her patience grew thin. "Where are you going to go?"

Ana peered at her quietly, then stood from the chair. At first, it looked as if she was going to move closer, but she heaved a quiet sigh and walked to the window instead. Farther from Kamilah, who was grateful for the space to breathe.

"I'm going to wherever I need to be," Ana said quietly.

"Oh? That's not here, then?"

"Milah, please." Ana turned to fix her eyes on Kamilah, pleading. "You are important to me, more than anything else. But there are other things I have to take care of as well–"

"You come back, tell me that you want to stay and work things out, then expect me to be happy when you leave us again? Is everything you've said just…lies?"

"Milah–"

Ana reached for her, but Kamilah jerked herself back, maintaining the distance between them. Who knew what would happen if she let Ana get too close? Even Kamilah didn't know, and she didn't trust herself enough to find out.

"It's not like that, Milah."

"Where are you going," Milah ground the words through the overwhelming pressure of a shout waiting to happen. She clamped her lips together and swallowed painfully, glaring at Ana.

Ana lowered her gaze in thought, practiced calm pulling a cool mask over her torn expression, before she met Kamilah's eyes again. "Where I've been for the past year."

She gazed at Kamilah longer, and when her wife didn't reply, making her dissatisfaction with the vague answer obvious, Ana sighed and gave in. "I'm going to Giza," she said, whisper-quiet as if wary of eavesdroppers. "I have a safehouse there. Truth is, I've been in Egypt for over a year. At first, I've been doing some...vigilante business to keep myself busy, but one thing led to another, and...well. I have something important to see to, Milah. It may give me closure, or it may not. But I want to try and see where it takes me."

Milah clenched her jaw. 'Where it takes me,' Ana said. She might as well have declared, 'I'll stay out there for as long as I deem necessary.'

History was threatening to repeat itself, and Kamilah's stomach twisted into a tight knot.

"And what is this important thing you need to do."

It wasn't so much a question as it was a demand, and Ana spent a good minute wrestling with the decision while her wife watched. Kamilah had expected Ana to dodge the question, like all those times before, but Ana surprised her with a small smile.

"Promise you'll keep this quiet? Even from Fareeha. I'll tell her when she's ready."

Kamilah nodded curtly.

"I was working to take down a local syndicate, when I came across a trail familiar to the handiwork of this terrorist organisation Overwatch had been desperate to take down. Talon." Ana had walked closer, her voice growing quieter. "So I followed this trail, and guess who I bumped into? Jack."

"Morrison?"

"How many Jacks do we know?" Ana said with a crooked smile. "Yes, Jack Morrison. He's not dead. In fact, he's very much alive and up to the same bullshit we did back then. Like I'm doing now," she admitted. "Our goals are aligned, so we started working together, following the Talon trail in Egypt. Now guess who else this trail led us to."

Kamilah snorted. "Don't tell me. Gabriel."

She stared at Ana's smile – which didn't reach her eyes. "Fucking hell, are all the old ghosts coming back? The explosion at your HQ wasn't as deadly as it should've been, was it?"

"I wish it was," Ana said, voice hushed. She averted her eyes, hiding a flicker of...something Kamilah couldn't read. "We found out Gabriel's with Talon. He was the one behind the explosion. He may have...done so much more even before that." Ana frowned, a hard edge appearing in her eyes. "I need answers. Jack needs it too. If we work together, there's a better chance of us getting what we want, then getting out alive."

Ana stared at the floor for the longest time, before closing her eyes and losing most of her tension in a deep exhale. "I need to do this, Milah. I know you don't like it, but I won't be able to rest before it's done."

Kamilah met Ana's steady gaze, but couldn't hold it for long. She took a breath, but found her throat blocked. So she took a step back, and turned to leave without a word.

Nothing was worse than having what you dread most proven true. Kamilah kept her distance from Ana since her wife's confession, sharing Fareeha's fear of losing her own temper and lashing out at Ana. Did Ana deserve it? Maybe, maybe not. But Kamilah didn't want to risk laying more blame on Ana's shoulders than she could carry.

The divide between them grew wider in the frosty silence Kamilah kept between them – for her own peace of mind, and possibly Ana's – and though it felt like she was undoing the progress they'd made together in the past few days, this silence was...comforting. A reminder that Kamilah could still step back, take some time for herself, and think.

It hadn't quite provided a measure of calm, or anything to fight back her dark mood, but it gave her some self-clarity – which prepared her for Ana's visit in her own room.

Kamilah didn't bother looking at Ana as she walked in, fixing her eyes instead on a distant tree through the window, where she sat with knees drawn up to her chest.

"Milah," Ana began gently. "I just...want to check on you."

No reply.

"I understand that you're upset. Hell, even I'm upset at myself for just...going back on everything I said before. But–"

"If you're going to give me another excuse, Ana," Kamilah said quietly, tone flat. "I don't want to hear it. I've had my fill."

Kamilah didn't move from her position, seated on the couch by the window, her arms wrapped around an orange cushion worn around the edges. And when Ana didn't make a move to leave, Kamilah spoke.

"You saved my life, you know? Way back then, during the insurgency."

"Yeah?" Though Kamilah wasn't looking at Ana, she could picture Ana's smile from the warmth in her voice. "I'd wager you saved my life as many times too."

Kamilah kept quiet after that, the thuds in her chest growing painful as a muted voice in the back of her mind demanded her to stop. This was something Kamilah had never told Ana – she'd never wanted to. Let Ana believe herself the hero, Kamilah had figured back then, which she absolutely was. And Kamilah didn't want to taint that shining memory of success with something like this. Her lowest, weakest moment, which had returned to dog her memories so often with its utter irony, now spilled itself out.

"I was alone. I had to leave a teammate to die just to keep running. My SOS had gone unanswered for so long, I thought no one would come for me."

"I remember."

Kamilah lowered her eyes, staring at the cushion as she fidgeted with its corner. "Before you came, I was ready to end things. I had my pistol pushed up against the bottom of my chin. I was going to end it. Then you found me. You saved me."

Despite herself, Kamilah laughed briefly, bitterly. "Since you died, it never escaped me how ironic it was; that the very woman who saved my life, was the reason why I wanted to end it again."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. I never wanted you to know," Kamilah said, voice on the verge of cracking. "Now you're back, and you want to risk your life again. Risk having me go through all of that again." Her voice faltered, throat tight.

"I'm sorry."

Kamilah huffed, wanting to laugh and cry at the futility of all this. She was baring her soul, and for what? Her wife was determined, and she knew she couldn't sway Ana. All she could do was lay everything bare, everything that came to mind, so she could stop living with this weight on her chest every single day.

"I used to resent your eye so much, Ana," Kamilah said. "Because of it, you were taken away from us so often. You became the best with that cybernetic eye. Then the world took notice, and wanted to take you away from us. And it did. So often. Sometimes I would forget how it felt to have you at home, with family."

"Would it make you feel better if you knew I resented it too, sometimes?" Ana said, and Kamilah knew it wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. "It landed me a position that kept me away from my family. Part of me is glad that it's gone."

"And yet, you're still doing what you did before. You're still leaving us behind for...whatever higher cause you've chosen for yourself this time." Another bitter laugh rasped through her throat, and Kamilah fell silent, chewing on her bottom lip.

"I never pushed you to leave Overwatch, or retire, because I didn't want to be selfish. You were a hero, one of the precious few keeping peace in the world. I didn't want suffering to exist where you could stop it, simply because I wanted the luxury of having you back with me. And you know what? I still feel this way, and I'm sick of it."

"I married you because you were the only one who was always there for me. I knew you wouldn't let anything stop you from returning to me, simply because you loved me that much."

"I still love you, Milah."

"Yeah?" Kamilah's lips curved, cynical. "It's getting harder to believe that."

And despite that, I still love you. More than anything.

Kamilah quashed the thought, resentment flaring at its spontaneity. Her brows furrowed into a frown, and she returned her gaze to the window.

"I want to be alone now," was all she said.

After a moment's pause, Ana left quietly.

Just a week after Kamilah had texted her plea to Fareeha, her daughter returned home, surprising Kamilah with the powerful hum of her hoverbike pulling into the garage. Fareeha hadn't said anything beforehand, but this was one surprise Kamilah welcomed. Though her frosty relation with Ana had thawed after their last conversation, they couldn't speak long enough without awkward pauses. Having Fareeha around would help alleviate this tension...provided their girl didn't contribute to it further.

But Fareeha had come home prepared this time, and Kamilah's troubles were forgotten when she caught Fareeha in the living room. A bright grin appeared on her daughter's face, and Fareeha told Kamilah to wait while she set her bag on the armchair and dug into her backpack. She produced a slim cardboard box, opened its lid and presented its contents proudly to Kamilah, who peered in.

It was a figurine of a vintage glider, meticulously painted baby blue with white stripes on its wings. Kamilah couldn't help but smile at it.

"Recognise this?"

"How can I not?" Kamilah replied, picking the plane up. "It's that toy plane you gave me when you were younger...then broke when you couldn't stop playing with it."

"Yeah," Fareeha said sheepishly, scratching at her nape. "But here's a new one! I had it made from stainless steel instead of wood this time, so it won't break."

"Habibti, I have no doubt that you can break stainless steel if you had a mind to," Kamilah deadpanned.

"Why, thank you," Fareeha recovered smoothly, smile crooked in jest. "But I won't. It's yours, and I swear I won't touch it."

"Good to know." Kamilah bit on her lip to keep from laughing, turning the plane in her hand to admire the smooth coat of paint. "You ordered a custom job?"

"Yeah. Just the figurine though. I painted it myself."

"You painted it well." Kamilah raised her brows. "If your jetpack-rocket thing doesn't work out, you could be a painter."

"Please. I'd rather use my guitar than a paintbrush." Fareeha laughed, then slung her backpack over a shoulder. "Anyway, have you eaten? Thought we could go out for dinner."

"Sounds good. And…" Kamilah slowed when she caught onto the hesitation in Fareeha's expression. "We can ask your ami if she–"

"Oh, you two go on ahead," came Ana's voice, catching them off-guard. There was a shuffle from the kitchen, then Ana appeared at the doorway, holding a bowl on a coaster. "I'm drinking last night's soup. I'll go for supper if I'm hungry later."

Kamilah glanced at Fareeha out of the corner of her eye, and noticed the slight stiffening in her daughter's posture. To Fareeha's credit though, her face didn't sour at the sight of Ana – as it always had before.

"Alright then," Fareeha replied simply, not losing her jovial tone.

Her daughter's acting had gotten better, Kamilah thought drily, as Fareeha looked back at her.

"I really, really feel like pizza, mama. Please–?"

"You'll buy."

Fareeha puffed up her chest. "Of course I'll buy!"

Kamilah smiled, eyes flickering over Fareeha's shoulder to catch a glimpse of Ana's gentle smile, before her wife slipped back into the kitchen.

Sleepless nights were a common occurrence for Ana, a problem she'd had much longer than she'd like to admit. Captain Amari had enjoyed little of the luxury of sleep, and now Ana Amari suspected her body had made it a habit. It made her really want to punch herself sometimes, but better judgment saw her making tea instead of resorting to such silliness.

That's why she was perched at the kitchen's counter with a teapot and a steaming cup of tea, like so many nights before. Her night-time teas were usually spent alone, and Ana missed the view she had at the Necropolis, where she could gaze out at Giza blanketed in the inky dark blue of night. It had helped too, when she had a grizzled, grumpy old colleague to chat or sit with. Needling Jack often helped to take her mind off her own troubles.

Ana sighed softly, and as she brought her cup to her lips, someone entered the kitchen, distracting her as she'd wished. She looked up, and made only the briefest eye contact with Fareeha, before her daughter jerked her head away and opened the fridge. Ana bit down a smile when Fareeha took a bottle of strawberry milk from the fridge – a night-time indulgence that her daughter hadn't been able to shake, it seemed.

As Fareeha made right for the door, hand twisting the bottle's cap, Ana spoke.

"Fareeha."

Fareeha slowed after taking two more steps, then stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't turn to face Ana, though.

"Is it so hard to even look at your mother?"

Her daughter's shoulders rose, then fell sharply. Oh yes, a very familiar sign of Fareeha's irritation. To her credit, Fareeha took only a moment more, then turned around with a placid expression. Not that it meant much, since turning on each other at a finger's snap was a hallmark of nearly all their conversations before. Still, Ana chose to take her daughter's calm as a good sign.

"Oh, I nearly forgot I had another mother too."

Or...not.

The jab was all too expected, and Ana couldn't help but let her mouth curve in a tired smile. Everything Ana said was a matador's red flag to Fareeha's bull, even if she tried not saying anything inflammatory. Now, looking at Fareeha...Ana realised Kamilah was merely a warm up for this.

"Well. I do deserve that, don't I?"

Fareeha merely pursed her lips, which curved down into a sulk as she crossed her arms, bottle of milk in her hand forgotten.

"Would you mind if I asked you to sit down and talk for a while?"

Fareeha's eyes flickered to the stool in front of her. Her face remained stony as she considered, then finally sat at the counter, back ramrod straight as if she were sitting with a superior officer. Which was...not inaccurate, Ana thought, if she could still lay claim to any rank after her term as Captain during Overwatch's downhill slide into infamy.

Ana kept the soft smile on her face as she looked Fareeha over, her daughter fidgeting with the bottle's cap. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Fareeha uttered, curtness apparent in that single word.

"I heard you're working in a security firm now. With some kind of suit that lets you fly?" Ana chuckled. "Guess you've finally achieved your childhood dream of flying, huh?"

Fareeha's gaze rose briefly to Ana, before dropping again. "I suppose."

Well. This was difficult, but still. It was progress.

"And you're a captain now! You're doing very well for yourself. I'm proud of you."

Fareeha didn't look up, but she scratched briefly at her temple, before opening the bottle of milk to take a gulp. She sighed as she set the bottle down, staring intently at the counter's marble surface, then spoke.

"Thanks...I suppose." Fareeha paused, looked conflicted, then her shoulders sagged by a fraction in defeat. "Mama told me to talk to you, but I don't know what to..."

"Oh, you do know," Ana laughed. "You know very well what you want to tell me. You just need some time to get them in order, that's all."

Fareeha let out a long, slow breath, then cracked into the first smile she'd worn around Ana, albeit briefly. "I need a long time, then."

"Of course. You have many years' worth of ammo, after all." Ana waited, and when Fareeha didn't reply, she continued, "How about this? You know about the system I have with your mama?"

"Yeah. You talk to each other whenever."

"Yup. We talk whenever. So, if you want to sit me down and have a chat...just stop me. Not like I have anywhere to be, anyway." Ana shrugged. She earned a long glance from Fareeha, though her daughter gave little away before averting her eyes.

"Okay." Fareeha waited, drumming her fingertips on the milk bottle, then took it in her hand. "I think I'm...done. For now."

"Alright." Ana watched as Fareeha stood slowly. "Goodnight, little one."

Fareeha glanced at her, then shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving Ana alone to process the short conversation. It went smoother than she'd expected, and Ana suspected it had much to do with Kamilah. No doubt her wife had already spoken to Fareeha, and that girl always did give her best for her mama. Ana tapped at the countertop idly in thought, then a wan smile crossed her face.

Even if Ana couldn't salvage her relationship with her daughter, Fareeha would be there for Kamilah, at least.

"Milah? Could we talk for a while?"

Kamilah paused in her rummage through one of the storeroom's containers. She rested her hands on the container's edge, and nodded with a sigh, not bothering to rise from where she sat in the storeroom. One of Kamilah's methods to work out her vexation, was to sort out whatever messes she could find – this time, her chosen target was the storeroom, which must have seen little housekeeping in recent days.

Ana hesitated on her feet, then sat down, just outside the storeroom's threshold.

"I just wanted to tell you…" Ana's voice wavered, but she held herself steady, and ploughed on. "About my leaving. It'll take me some time, but I'll be back after that. I promise."

"I've heard that promise a thousand times before," Kamilah said quietly, reaching into the container again.

"I mean it this time."

"Heard that a thousand times too."

A pang deep in her chest, and Ana knew she couldn't build this trust between themselves again. Not without staying for good. And yet…

"I know it's hard to believe me again, after all those times I went back on my word. But I'd like to ask you for a chance. Just one more. I swear I'll do right by you and Fareeha this time."

Kamilah fidgeted with the bedsheets in the container, her silence heavy. "I'll think about it," she muttered, then returned to her task without sparing Ana a single glance.

"Thank you."

Ana gazed at Kamilah longer, but gave into her wife's obvious desire to be left alone. She rose to her feet and walked away, anxiety tying her stomach into knots.