Ana had, long ago, stopped putting much stock into her birthdays. Hell, she didn't even bother keeping track, and would only remember when Kamilah texted or had a gift delivered to HQ. After a time, all the years had started to blur together, and lighting candles on a cake just seemed an arbitrary milestone to celebrate another year of breathing despite the risks she kept taking. Alright, that was an accomplishment in itself, but a part of her had internalised that macho mantra, 'I'll sleep when I'm dead', after hanging around Jack for so long.

And when her birthday came rolling around, the first in her retirement, she had to be reminded as usual. She'd started to wave it off, then stopped herself to accept this modicum of normalcy into her life. It certainly wouldn't hurt to indulge now that she was free, and it gave her something to look forward to every year. But as she watched her family light so many damned candles on the cake she'd baked with Kamilah, Ana started to have second thoughts. And third thoughts. And murderous thoughts.

"Are you going to smother the entire thing in candles?" Ana asked exasperatedly, when her sister stuck yet another candle into the cake.

Safiya met her frown with a dead stare, then cracked into an impish smile as she reached for another candle – the tenth. Her eyes never left Ana's as she melted the candle's base with a lighter, fixed it to a tiny stand, and poked it into the cake.

"Alright, that's enough," Zahra finally stepped in, hugging Latte to her chest so the kitten couldn't stray close to the cake. "Didn't we say one candle's for ten years?"

"Yeah," Safiya replied, grinning as Ana pursed her lips into a mighty pout. "Exactly."

"I hate you."

"I hate you double."

"Tell me if you're gonna start fighting," Fareeha drawled, taking a swig from her soda bottle. "I'll take out the camera."

"Fareeha," Kamilah warned, handing a knife to Ana, then angled it down so her wife didn't look like she would stab someone. "Alright, make a wish."

"I wish Safiya would disappear."

"Quietly."

"I wish Safiya would disappear," Ana whispered loud enough for her sister to hear, who smacked her head.

"Behave, you overgrown children," Kamilah growled, cracking the sisters' sulks into smirks. "Now make your wish, or I'll make it for you."

"Oh, alright." Ana's eye roved over the women gathered around her – the only four she'd trusted with the truth that she was alive. With their faces in mind, Ana closed her eye briefly, then blew out the candles – with multiple huffs, because Safiya had placed the candles annoyingly far apart.

"So, what did you wish for?" Safiya asked.

"It's supposed to be a secret." Ana said drily, handing the knife to Kamilah after making the first cut. "But I guess you probably have a good idea already."

"Uh, science has made great progress," Fareeha piped up. "But I don't think it can bring Beyonce back from the grave."

"Not yet," Ana emphasised. "Besides, I came back from the grave."

"You can't come back from something you never went into."

"Hm. Good point–"

"But you do look like you spent a few years in it," Safiya interjected.

"Fuck you."

"Asshole."

"Girls," Kamilah sighed, handing the cake slices over. "Language."

"Yes, mama," they echoed the same defeated tone they'd used on their mother before, then gave each other one last kick under the table, earning narrowed glares from each of their wives.

Safiya snickered, then reached down for the cheap paper bag beside her feet. She tossed it at Ana's face. "Here. For you."

"A bag? I'm touched." Ana deadpanned, peering into the bag. She snorted and took the pirate hat, setting it on her head. Then her eye widened, as she pulled out the toy parrot from the bottom of the bag. "Hey, this looks exactly like the one I wore to Halloween at HQ."

"Yeah. Milah showed me that photo of you once. Who knew it'd turn prophetic."

"No one," Ana sighed, setting the parrot on her shoulder, then snatched it from the air when it fell. She hooked the parrot in her sweater's collar, and reached out for the bag Zahra held to her.

"Here's your actual present," Zahra chuckled.

"Oh, I don't know. I love the parrot." Ana grinned. "Thank, Zah." Premium tea leaves, and a new French press – Zahra always was one of her best sources of tea. Her 'dealer', Kamilah liked to say.

Following the trend, Fareeha brought up the two boxes she'd kept in a bag on the floor as well. She handed one to Ana, and the other to Kamilah – who raised her brows.

"It's not my birthday, habibti."

"Yeah. But you know…" Fareeha shrugged, as they looked over the gaming devices – the same model as the one she has. "There's multiplayer in that village sim I'm playing and I thought…"

"Must've cost a lot," Ana commented.

"Nah. I bought them on sale."

"There's a sale? You didn't tell me!" Zahra broke in – Fareeha's shopping partner-in-crime.

"Oh, no. this was a while back." Fareeha broke into a sheepish smile, a faint flush on her cheeks and she massaged her nape.

Ana had to bite down a smile – she must've planned this for a while. Despite her daughter still keeping an unspoken distance from her, Fareeha cared more than she let on. She did have Kamilah's softer heart, after all.

Ruffling her daughter's hair, Ana leaned over to plant a quick peck on her temple, which nearly made Fareeha drop her face right into her cake slice.

"What did you get for her, Milah?" Safiya asked.

"I let her stay in my house," Kamilah snipped.

"Oh, I pretend to die for a while, and my house becomes yours?"

"Yes. That's how wills work, my dear." Kamilah took a sip of tea, her impassive mask breaking with a smile when Ana pinched her cheek.

Ana lay in bed, her back rested on a stack of pillows, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, hands interlaced on her stomach. A picture of repose, which hid the mute anxiety spiking her veins with the occasional rush, repeating the same question in her mind with different combinations of words and tone, imagining every possible reaction to what she kept under the covers beside her. She'd wanted to do this for the longest time, but never could find the right moment to approach Kamilah. Even now, she felt unprepared, and was ready to scrap her plan when Kamilah emerged from the bathroom.

Ana's lips quirked into a faint smile at the sight of Kamilah's oversized t-shirt, and her eyes remained on her wife as she climbed into bed.

Noticing the attention, Kamilah glanced at her. "What is it? You have that look on your face."

Ana opened her mouth, then backpedaled. "I'm dying. Shouldn't have eaten that much at dinner."

"I told you to give some of your food to Fareeha."

"I'm not gonna overstuff my daughter like that. Besides, her plate was full enough with your share."

Kamilah shrugged. "She exercises enough for the two of us."

"Because you keep giving her food."

"Oh, hush."

Ana chuckled, then caught herself as Kamilah lifted the covers. Her hand darted towards Kamilah, who paused, shooting Ana a quizzical look.

"I, uh. Have something to ask you." Ana's throat threatened to clog as she spoke, so she left the words alone. Reaching under the covers, she retrieved the necklace she'd worn ever since she'd woken in a hospital with a missing eye – the wedding band she'd kept on a fine chain. She held it up between them, and Kamilah merely stared at it, then looked at Ana in question.

"Are you going to ask your question, or…?"

"I...don't actually know what to say." Her words were dotted with pauses even though she spoke slowly. "Just...thought I'd give this to you."

Kamilah frowned, and Ana knew she'd worded it wrong.

"Not in that way! Not–, ugh. Shit."

"Use your words, Ana."

"I am," Ana grumbled, though she took heart in the gentle tease in Kamilah's voice. "Well, I noticed you weren't wearing your ring anymore. So...I thought I'd like to give you mine."

"I still have my ring, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought...you'd like mine."

Ana's cheeks grew warm under Kamilah's silent stare, growing self-conscious from the attention and her stubbornly elusive eloquence. Though Kamilah didn't say a thing, Ana knew her wife had understood the point she'd tried to get across, no matter how clumsily. Her heart picked up pace, and the idea to withdraw started to take shape, when Kamilah turned around.

Reaching for the nightstand, Kamilah pulled its drawer open, and took the ring box from within. She lifted its lid easily with a thumb, revealing the wedding band she'd kept hidden from sight since Ana's return. It looked unbelievably pristine, as if she'd just bought it from the shop. She must've cleaned it well before putting it back, like Ana had cleaned hers before tonight. Kamilah still cared for it, at least Ana knew that much.

"You want mine, I assume?"

"That was the idea. But only if you want to." Her voice trailed away towards the end, as she looked back at Kamilah, who wore a slight frown with her stare. Ana cocked her head.

Kamilah remained silent for a long while. "The last time I wore the ring you gave me," she began, muted. "I only had...two, three years with you before the world dragged you away from me."

"And how long before it takes me away again?" Ana completed the unspoken question, wearing a tight smile. "I don't suppose a promise could make you feel better?"

"No. You have a poor track record with your promises," Kamilah muttered, eyes lowering to the ring box, as Ana's lips twitched. "And I know better to think that life will behave the way I want it to."

"It's all behind me now, Milah. I swear."

Kamilah took a breath, held it as if to speak, then released it in a sigh. Raising her eyes to Ana's, she lifted a hand to cup Ana's cheek gently. "Don't misunderstand, Ana. I trust you. But only you, and nothing else."

Ana swallowed, throat tight. She knew well the implications of that statement – after all, Ana had fought tooth-and-nail to be with her family before, only to have the years lay brick after brick between herself and her family, until a wall existed that neither knew how to pull down.

"I know," she said quietly. The hand which clutched her necklace drooped to the covers, then stiffened in surprised when another covered her own.

"All that said." Kamilah heaved another sigh, fingers clutching tighter around Ana's. "I'm not going to wait until something else comes crashing down on us again. I've waited, wished for too long to just let this go." She fell into thought, thumb brushing over Ana's hand. "Do you really want this?"

It was less a question of what Ana wanted – of course she did. This asked for a promise, a vow to never let anything else break their family apart again; Ana pressed her lips to Kamilah's knuckles. "Yes. And I swear I'll do everything in my power to keep it this time."

She held Kamilah's gaze steadily, and her heart skipped when Kamilah set the box down to take the ring from its cushion.

"Wait, if you'll indulge me." Ana stopped Kamilah in her tracks, uncertainty crossing her wife's features. "I want this, but only if you really wanna put a ring on it."

Kamilah rolled her eyes. "Don't push it, you idiot," she huffed, sliding the ring onto Ana's finger. She held Ana in place, staring down at the ring, before she raised her own hand for Ana to do the same. Ana slipped the ring on reverently, willing herself not to tremble from a dream made reality. She held Kamilah's hand in both of hers, drinking in the sight she'd long for, and pressed her lips to Kamilah's knuckles, just above the ring.

"Hm. It just hit me that we could've gotten remarried."

"Ugh, no. Spare me the ceremony," Kamilah groaned.

"You've gotten so lazy," Ana teased.

"Says the one who wanted to exchange rings in bed, right before we go to sleep." Kamilah huffed, pulling her hand away to knock Ana's forehead, then crawled under the covers.

"You're still as grumpy as ever." Ana leaned over her, dipping down to steal a kiss, then two when Kamilah's hand caught her by the neck. "But I still love you anyway."

"You'd better." Kamilah laughed under her breath, as Ana coaxed another kiss from her. "Because I love you too, despite my better sense."

"Then I'm glad all your time around me has turned you into a fool too." Ana crooned, pecking her forehead. She lay down as well, snuggling up to her wife, arms winding around Kamilah. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, scoundrel."

Often did Ana dwell on that night they exchanged rings – a simple, symbolic act which had finally anchored her jittery heart to the present, convinced her that it's where she was meant to be all along. There's no need for her to keep looking to the horizon, no need to worry for a future already secured. She would remember the gentle caress of Kamilah's fingers on her own, the kiss she placed on her wife's hand, and smile to herself. Nothing could compare to a life falling together.

But it was only a year later that Ana started to dwell upon their conversation that night as well. Kamilah's fears, and Ana's vow to keep them from turning real once more. It haunted her when the news first reported the reactivation of Siberia's omnium, spewing violent omnics which terrorised the region and dragged it into a turmoil which would soon rival that of the chaos of the Omnic Crisis. Her throat had grown dry in the electronics retailer that day, and she'd slipped away from the small crowd gathered around the TV displays, took Kamilah by the hand and led her out of the shop.

As news trickled in of unrest spreading across the world, Ana became aware of Kamilah's eyes on herself, and Fareeha's glances which weren't discreet enough to escape her notice. She would keep her face plain, offer a quick smile or two, and deflect to more mundane matters like food or plans for the day. Never did she show any interest deeper than that of an ordinary citizen keeping in touch with world events – not while in plain sight.

Try as she might, a knot tied and twisted itself further in her gut, with each update conveyed in that practised inflection of a newsreader. Unease led to late nights, then lost sleep, and eventually Ana gave into the curiosity which threatened to burn her the longer she tried to ignore it.

In the dark of night, after ensuring that Kamilah had fallen into deep sleep, Ana snuck out of her wife's arms with fluid motions formed from past habit, and sequestered herself in their study. With the table lamp for illumination, Ana reactivated a nondescript holopad for the first time she'd moved back, the glow of its monochrome-blue interface sinking a heavy stone to the pit of her stomach, stirring guilt at the duplicity. But she pushed past it, engaged the holopad's software to tap into information networks which branched into all corners of the world. It was a favourite of Overwatch and Blackwatch agents back in the day, and though many connections had gone dark since Overwatch's fall, there were enough for Ana to keep an eye on more...important events.

Pro- and anti-omnic movements arose once more, in much the same fashion as it had before and after the Omnic Crisis. With the reactivation of the Siberian omnium, military forces worldwide had been dispatched to defunct omniums in case of a similar incident, though it did little to ease the socio-political plight of omnics in their respective nations. In some countries, omnic rights were stripped away in the name of national safety, and in others, protests pushed for the same action.

One particularly ugly incident occurred in King's Row, London, where rioters fell upon omnics during a peaceful march. Not an uncommon incident, given current circumstances, but what caught Ana's eye were accounts of bystanders witnessing a Crusader defending omnics from rioters. All footage caught of this figure was blurred and unfocused amid all the action, but Ana recognised the polished grey armour, and the way it thundered across the roads, activating its shield with precision and excellent timing. She thought she saw a glimpse of familiar red hair in the background of all the footage as well, shadowing the Crusader's movements.

In remote Kurjikstan, disaster had risen in the form of a reactivated Omnic Titan walker, which had crushed the military forces sent to contain it. A few days later, an unknown agent had taken on the walker by themselves, reportedly climbing into the Titan to take down its pilot and disable it. The agent had slipped away before anyone could catch their identity.

In North America, there was an attempted terrorist takeover of a hypertrain bound for Houston, which was resolved in a shootout on top of the train itself. Word was, only one man was responsible for the rescue – a gunslinger with an impressive revolver in his hand, a red serape wrapped around his shoulders, and boots with spurs attached to its heels. This one, Ana needed no stretch of logic to guess who it was, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes when she found a photo of those spurred boot heels.

Just south of the gunslinger's location, reports of a lone vigilante arose from Dorado, Mexico. Ana knew this 'Soldier: 76' well enough. Obviously he'd found something to live for; and it seemed running afoul of Los Muertos was on his agenda at the moment. She kept an eye on him longer than the rest, and wasn't surprised when he'd successfully ruined plenty of the gang's operations, narrowly avoiding one disastrous explosion which had claimed countless Los Muertos members' lives.

On her home soil, a half-dismantled omnium had reactivated overnight, and fell upon the residential district on the outskirts of Cairo. The Amari family had been woken up in the dead of night by multiple calls and texts from their military contacts, and they'd packed essentials into bags, loading them onto cars in case they needed to evacuate. Ana had sat with Kamilah on the porch, arms around her wife who'd fallen into silence, while Fareeha paced by their car. Then Safiya and Zahra had come over with a suggestion, and they spread out across the neighbourhood to rouse their neighbours with news of the danger, calming those who panicked when sirens soon blared across the city. Most residents recognised it – they'd lived through the Omnic Crisis thirty years ago.

Only when the sky started to brighten did news arrive that the omnic advance had been beaten back – a victory only ensured by the fact that the omnium was not at optimum efficiency. The family had convened in Kamilah's house then, unable to rest with frazzled nerves, looking for comfort among loved ones. They noticed Fareeha brooding alone in the armchair, eyes fixed on the carpet beneath their feet, and after a bout of coaxing, she'd confided that the Anubis temple had an incident not too long ago. Its A.I. had nearly broken free of its restraints, and only her team's quick action had prevented a disaster.

A grim revelation which only sharpened Ana's focus on Egypt – keeping track of rogue omnic movements through Cairo and beyond, and on U.N. humanitarian forces dispatched to alleviate their situation. Ana noted the presence of one ex-Overwatch doctor in the aid camps, and even without her holopad pulling data from official channels, word flew around the city of 'Mercy' and her work in the camps.

In truth, the doctor's close proximity made Ana feel ill at ease – like history was about to catch up with her, and it seemed Kamilah shared the same sentiment. Her wife never said anything, but her quiet, lingering gazes on Ana were telling enough.

She was working on her holopad one night, going through her usual intelligence-gathering, when the device picked up a curious signal – protected by an encryption sequence she recognised. With the holopad in hand, Ana padded around the house, and found that it was the strongest outside Fareeha's room. The signal hadn't been there the day before – and neither had Fareeha, who'd returned from Giza that afternoon.

Fingers flying over the holopad, Ana analysed this signal – it had a video attachment, but she couldn't open it there. The signal was distorted, as if pulled from somewhere else and stretched too far. Heart rising to her throat, she retreated back into the study, fingers gripping the holopad, knowing she would get little sleep that night.

The next day, she left the house alone, tossing a guilty glance at an oblivious Kamilah on the way. She sneaked into an Overwatch safehouse tucked away at the opposite end of the city, and with the computer within, decrypted the signal captured within her holopad. It was an easy enough task – after all, the signal was Overwatch in origin. Whoever had sent it was either careless, or desperate. And when Ana had watched Winston's message play out on the screen, she knew it was the latter.

Something she could relate to well enough, but she had a more important issue weighing on her mind then. This signal was sent on a sub-frequency used only by Overwatch agents, and she knew her house was out of range of this frequency.

And she'd picked it up outside Fareeha's room.

She chose to say nothing of it, just as she chose to sit on Winston's message. In her lifetime as a sniper, there were times when she knew, instinctively, that she should wait for an opportunity to show itself at the door. So it was with Fareeha – and her daughter didn't disappoint.

"I'm thinking of going to Spain. For a short breather," Fareeha said at lunch, drawing an incredulous glance from Kamilah.

"At this time? Really?"

"Well, yeah. Spain hasn't been affected by the omnic movements. So it should be safe."

"Who are you going with?" Ana asked.

"Myself."

"Which part of Spain?"

A slight hesitation. "Somewhere in the south."

"Near Gibraltar?"

Kamilah's eyes cut to Ana at its mention. Captain Amari's wife knew there was a base at Gibraltar, but opted to say nothing.

So did Fareeha, who had fallen as silent as her mother. Her eyes searched Ana's, and her mother knew that she'd caught on.

"Ana?" Kamilah broke the stalemate tentatively. "What's this about?"

Without looking, Ana covered Kamilah's hand with her own, and Kamilah's fingers curled around hers for comfort. "I know why you're going there, Fareeha."

Fareeha watched her quietly, then spoke, "And why am I going there?"

It was a dare – a smart one, Ana had to admit. If Ana explained, she'd reveal that she had been tracking Overwatch's frequencies despite her promise to Kamilah to leave her old life behind. If she didn't say a thing, she'd have to keep her guise of ignorance and let Fareeha do as she pleased. Neither would end well; Ana clenched her jaw briefly, irritated that she'd been maneuvered into a corner. But Fareeha was overconfident if she thought she could keep Ana's mouth shut, when both of them had the same things to lose.

"I picked up an Overwatch frequency from your room," Ana said, feeling Kamilah's fingers tighten around hers. "Have you decrypted it?"

Fareeha's jaw worked, as a familiar frown creased her forehead. "Yes."

"Then you have watched the video."

"Yes."

"And you're going to answer it in Gibraltar?"

"Hold on," Kamilah cut in. "Explain what is going on."

"I picked up a signal from Fareeha's room," Ana explained, voice dropping into that steady chill from years past. "It was broadcasted on an Overwatch frequency. I picked it up while...monitoring the news, and decrypted it myself." She looked Kamilah in the eye, steeling herself. "It's a video message from Winston. He's recalling Overwatch agents."

Kamilah's placid expression didn't change, but Ana could feel the tension radiating from her wife's body. The only hint to her distress was revealed when Kamilah tried to speak, lifting a hand that trembled visibly before she set it back down on the table, fingertips digging into polished wood to stop the tremors.

When she spoke, it was deadly quiet. "We are not going to argue over this. We will talk. Calmly." She raised her eyes to Fareeha. "I know you're over thirty, but I need you to go to your room. Please."

Fareeha didn't move.

"Think about what you have to say. We'll talk to you later."

A stiff nod, and Fareeha left the table for her room, scooping up Latte along the way.

Silence had settled over Ana and Kamilah, almost suffocating with its weight, when Kamilah spoke again.

"I know you've been up to something. You'll leave the bed at night, when you think I've fallen asleep."

Ana's heart sank.

"You did the same thing back in Overwatch."

"I'm s–"

"What are you doing?"

She stuffed the apology down, knowing Kamilah wouldn't accept it. "I've just been gathering information, I swear. With everything going on, I had to know exactly what's happening."

"And what is happening?"

"I…can't be sure. But you know it looks like another Omnic Crisis is brewing."

Kamilah's eyes fell shut, and she remained still as stone for the longest time, before a sardonic smile twisted her lips. "I knew my life was going too smoothly."

"Milah, I–"

"You're going to answer Winston, aren't you?"

"I wasn't–" Ana shut her mouth abruptly, wishing she could take back the mistake, which revealed her intention before she even knew it.

"Wasn't." Kamilah laughed – forced, and ragged. She tried to pull her hand away when her stoic mask crumbled, but Ana gripped her tighter, pulling Kamilah in for a firm embrace.

"It's happening again, Ana." Kamilah was still laughing, though hitches dotted her breath. She continued in this vein, laughing bitterly on Ana's shoulder, before she calmed into that unsettling silence once more.

Ana ran her fingers through Kamilah's hair. "Milah? Sweetheart, talk to me."

"I don't want to lose you again," Kamilah whispered into her shoulder, and Ana squeezed her tightly.

"You won't. And we won't be broken apart again. I swore it to you, and I will see to it."

Kamilah buried her head in the crook of Ana's neck. When she spoke, she sounded hollow.

"Can you?"

A/N: Ok ok, I know how it looks, but don't worry! It'll be fine, I promise :3

We're near the end now! Just popping in to say again - I won't write about reformed-Overwatch happenings/the second Omnic Crisis. There'll only be a very touch-and-go brief for what's going down in Overwatch itself, before we skip the gap and right onto the finale. (You can skip from the previous chapter (82) to the last chapter, in fact)

So...yeah. 2-3 more chapters to go! Beepbeep!