Mercy

The young woman's presence unnerved her more than she thought it would. The resemblance to the infamous Ana was uncanny. Fareeha seemed far more serious, upon closer inspection, so the differentiating factors were already beginning to separate mother and daughter.

Angela offered Fareeha a chair, watching the way she moved and acted to get a better read on her character. She was honest to a fault. There was no hiding her emotions or feelings to someone as in tune with the human psyche as Doctor Ziegler. As the seconds passed, Angela could hear the conversation they were about to have before it even began.

'What can I do for you, Fareeha?' Angela started, her own voice sounding strained. She was tired. She was hungry. She had a headache. It was a trinity of discomfort that hadn't left her since her third day in this poor country.

'I…' Fareeha began, obviously struggling. This actually pleased Angela, for it meant Fareeha was sensitive to her surroundings and the scenario put before her. She wasn't like most brainwashed soldiers. She still had a mind. 'I was asked to speak to you about returning…to Overwatch…'

Again, Angela was impressed. She already liked the woman Fareeha had become to a degree. Based on what she knew about Ana, this shouldn't have come as a surprise. Fareeha carried out her mission, but she did so reluctantly, aware of its futility now.

'May I get you a glass of water? I'm sure your journey was a dry one.'

'…Please.' Fareeha accepted, maintaining her composure save for the slight way she tugged at her own pant leg ever so subtly.

Angela handed the other woman her room-temperature beverage and finally seated herself, as if dealing with a patient. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She didn't have the energy to seem dignified. Angela watched as Fareeha drank, seeing a hint of shyness about the presentably strong individual. A lovely contrast.

'You already know my answer, I presume?'

Fareeha paused before nodding.

'This country needs me. Many countries need me. Overwatch doesn't need me. There are far fewer gifted doctors willing to do what I do over joining a team like Overwatch. My involvement here isn't illegal either. At least, not technically.'

'But…you're one of a kind. You're the guardian angel of Overwatch. You saved hundreds because of your Valkyrie Suit and Caduceus Staff. You're a miracle worker!'

'Well, not always.' Angela answered soberly, diverting her eyes. 'I've seen enough unnecessary death for many lifetimes. This country has been abandoned by its government. The people are crying for help and yet not a single soul will listen. Innocent children die on the streets daily. I…cannot turn my back on these citizens. It is against my very nature.'

Angela waited for Fareeha's rebuttal, but blinked in surprise when it didn't come.

'I know.' The Egyptian nodded. 'I know. But you are beginning to crumble as well, aren't you? Even with your self-regenerating abilities the toll is showing. Are you sleeping?'

'E-enough…' Angela was taken aback. She hadn't read Fareeha perfectly. Perhaps she was tired. She pegged this woman for a stubborn, insistent dreamer, but she zeroed in on Angela's condition and asked for her own evaluation. As much as Angela longed to provide for the people of Iraq, they only seemed capable of taking. It was understandable, of course, but Angela was human, at the end of the day.

'What about food?'

'They need it more than me. There's so few resources to begin with, and my nanotechnological enhancements enable me to…'

'So, little if any.' Fareeha muttered.

Angela's eye twitched. This conversation wasn't what she had projected in her mind.

'Who sent you? Was it Jack?'

'No. Winston.'

Angela's heart leapt without her consent. If Winston was willing to rebel against the U.N., the situation must have changed. Angela's access to the outside world was stuttered in the best-case scenario. What was happening?

'Why now?'

'He says the second Omnic Crisis has already started. He claims Talon is more active than ever. He knows something big is about to take place. He wants to have Overwatch in place before it's out of control…like the first Omnic Crisis that you helped stop.'

Angela didn't answer immediately. Winston was a genius. Certainly, his emotional attachment to Overwatch was a factor, but he would never make such a bold move if he didn't feel it was absolutely necessary. Yet, Angela Ziegler had come to terms with her place in the world. She had no desire to fight again. She was meant to heal, not hurt. Overwatch forced her to kill; an act that went against everything she stood for and had worked toward. The age-old, philosophical paradox mounted before her: kill the few to save the many? Did that make killing acceptable?

'But you're needed here.' Fareeha interrupted Angela's thoughts, and the doctor let out air she didn't know she was holding. 'My plea is not fair to you. Winston sent me because he may have thought I wouldn't be sensitive to your position. He's still getting to know me, I suppose.'

'Perhaps…' Angela gripped at her hands. 'I'm sorry you made such a trip, Fareeha. I appreciate knowing what's taking place in the world, but this country continues to be ravaged, and I'm not leaving this space until the next time it's necessary to move due to terrorists catching wind of my objective.'

'Affirmative.' Fareeha nodded, her dark eyes mysterious but committed. 'I will assist you for the time being. My departure isn't scheduled until tomorrow.'

'Assist me?' The surprises wouldn't cease.

'You need to rest, Doctor Ziegler. I do not have the skills you do, but basic army medical training should suffice for some of the patients to allow you some relief.'

Angela breathed out slowly, shaking her head. She knew for certain that Fareeha wouldn't back down from this proposal. She would give her the win here.

'I will accept your offer, then.' She stood up, moving to Fareeha and extending her hand. 'Thank-you, Fareeha Amari.'

'No. Thank-you, Doctor Angela Ziegler. You're a hero to me, now more than even back when I knew of you as a little girl, and this is an honour more than anything.'

'Her name is Sara. She can speak a little bit of English. Her parents are no longer with us. She's quite shy, but needs her bandages changed almost every two hours.'

'Hello, Sara.'

Angela grinned, seeing the way Sara hid her face in her blankets.

'This is Fadhil. He was a soldier.'

'He's quite young.'

'That doesn't matter.' Angela grimaced. The boy was barely older than twelve. 'He was shot in the eye. I saved him, fortunately. He doesn't speak. He has some restrained anger, but he fights against it.'

'Fadhil. A brave man.' Fareeha commented, and Angela almost smiled sadly. Her voice was tight, as was expected. Such an iconic injury for the seemingly stoic Egyptian woman.

'Mohammed. His family was executed before him. He sleeps continuously. His brain has reverted back to that of a child. He needs a lot of love.'

Fareeha didn't reply to that. Angela continued to show the newest Overwatch agent her work. Greeting some of her patients kindly, knowing all of their names and understanding their needs immediately. Her memory was incredible. Her bedside mannerisms were perfect. She was stern but kind, capable yet not unwilling to allow her "family" to take care of themselves as need be. Angela wanted Fareeha to see all of this. She wanted her to report the whole truth to Winston now that Fareeha had agreed to stay with her for a bit.

It took almost an hour for the tour to be done, and eventually, Angela brought Fareeha into another room full of approximately twenty makeshift beds with yellowing sheets. Each bed was occupied, ranging from adults, to children, to men, to women.

'Just ask what they need, and help them feel cared for. That's all I expect from you.' Angela turned to an elderly woman, the Iraqi's eyes lighting up the moment she saw her. 'Good evening, Ms. Noora. It's nice to see you.'

'Mercy…' The woman touched the doctor's face. 'Oh, Mercy. So beautiful.'

'You flatter me. How are we feeling today?'

'Mercy…Mercy…'

'Yes. That was my name. I mostly go by Dr. Ziegler now, if you would be so kind.'

'Mercy. So much prettier. So many men would love you.'

'That is certainly not my priority right now, Ms. Noora. You are who I am worried about.'

'Bah. Leave me to die. You must live for me.'

'Now that's lunacy.' Angela's lip quivered. 'How is your stomach?'

'…Smelly.'

'Truly? After all that work we did?'

'Mercy…I'm sorry.'

'Don't be, Ms. Noora. It is hardly your fault.'

'I am causing more work for you.'

'I welcome it.'

'Mercy…Mercy…'

'There, there. Here. Drink this medicine while I take a peek at the wound.'

'Sorry. Sorry, Mercy…'

Angela had seen death more than she could count, and her peers scoffed at her for being infamously emotional in the face of it. Every. Single. Time. The worst part was hiding her fears from her patients. Ms. Noora's stomach was beyond saving. Her body was too old to adapt to any form of nanotechnology as well. She wouldn't be able to hold food down at all, soon enough. She would starve to death. Her innards had been ravaged by a bomb. Her organs were on a timer that continued to tick. Her sanity was fading.

However, Fareeha had to see this. She had to understand the core of Angela's efforts.

'Who's that?' Noora asked, as if reading Angela's thoughts.

'That is…an old acquaintance of mine.'

'Fareeha Amari, Ms. Noora. A pleasure.'

'Huh.' A beat, Angela wondering if that was all her sometimes-sassy patient would say before a more appropriate follow-up was made. 'Manly.'

Fareeha hardly seemed bothered, shrugging indifferently.

'I take that as a compliment in most cases.'

'There, Ms. Noora. How does that feel?'

'Oh, fine. Mercy. Mercy, it always does. But I'm done, right? Have mercy on this old soul.'

Angela prayed she hid her feelings well enough as she stood to help with some others in the room, noting that her assistants were making their rounds as well.

'Can you handle this, Fareeha?' She looked up to the woman, noting the hint of masculinity about her as well now that her perceptive patient had made the point.

'I will try. I make no promises. However, so long as you get a moment's rest, I am willing to do my best.'

'I'm trusting you.'

'Rest, Dr. Ziegler.'

Angela almost huffed, not appreciating being told what to do in her own hospital, but she knew Fareeha's curtness belied intense consideration. Angela went to her "room". That is, what used to be a washroom before the piping was scavenged ages ago. She took off her coat and plopped onto the collection of worn-out pillows on the ground. When was the last occasion she actually slept for more than an hour at a time, sitting up in a chair next to a patient who could pass on if ignored for too long?

Fareeha was an interesting one now that she was a full-grown woman, Angela would give her that. If circumstances could've been different, perhaps they may have become close friends. However, joining Overwatch now was out of the question. And if Fareeha thought she could convince Angela otherwise by forming some kind of bond through the doctor's work, the girl was delusional.

Still, Angela had a feeling Fareeha earnestly wished to help, and that in itself gave the doctor pause.

Angela wanted to think about it further, but sleep engulfed her hard and fast, the rest of Dr. Ziegler's thoughts merged into incomprehensible images and sounds.

'Where…?' Angela asked in her swiss dialect. Her eyes were still heavy, but her mind knew that something was off. She wasn't allowed to rest for so long. What if someone was lost because of her negligence? Angela scrambled to put her ratty lab coat back on and rubbed her face over and over, regretting her willingness to sleep on the job.

And yet, it had felt so good. Her energy was recharged, if only a little bit, and her patience, she found, had been appropriately adjusted.

'Where is my guest?' Angela asked one of her fellow doctors. The man snickered, pointing to the first room Angela had shown Fareeha. When the doctor made it to the doorway, she found Fareeha sitting next to Fadhil, with Sara clearly eavesdropping as best she could.

'…It allows me to fly, to a degree. Its fuel isn't infinite, so that causes some trouble, but what it does allow me to do is perform jobs very few could.'

'Hm.' Fadhil hummed, staring at the Egyptian with his remaining eye.

'Perhaps you could man one someday as well. I'm currently testing the prototype, but when the time comes, they may become standard gear for a very special taskforce.'

'Mmm…'

'Let me change your bandage here.'

'Ugh…'

'No. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You are a strong man. My mother didn't even survive such a wound, and she was quite famous, I'll have you know.'

Angela didn't want to interrupt. She was enraptured by the interaction. Fareeha was awkward, yes, but her heart was in the right place. Fadhil responded to few very well, yet the young boy was connecting to Fareeha quite readily.

'What was your mother's name?' Sara finally chimed in.

'It was…Ana. Ana Amari. She fought with Overwatch. Do you know who they are?'

'Bad people?' The little girl answered earnestly, and Angela waited in anticipation, her stomach turning. She needed to get back to work, but the hospital felt quiet, and it was getting late. The rounds would be left to Angela soon enough. She could work then.

'Maybe some. But they were mostly heroes who fought for humanity in the first Omnic Crisis, when machines were hurting people.'

'The machines were sick.' Sara nodded.

'Yes. They were irreparably sick…' Fareeha didn't make the bandage as tight as Angela would have preferred, but her hands worked decently enough. Fadhil seemed pleased as well. 'This tattoo is in remembrance of my mother. I didn't always get along with her, but she fought hard, just as you did, Fadhil.'

'…Hero…' Fadhil muttered, and Angela's eyes widened, covering her mouth.

'Yes. You could be a hero, too. I know it. Overwatch wasn't perfect, but they were undoubtedly heroes.'

'Hm.' Fadhil nodded.

'You're pretty cool, Fareeha.' Sara giggled.

'I…I'm not, really. I just admire Overwatch a little too much for my own good, I think.'

'Tell us more about your super suit!'

'Or about fighting the bad guys!'

'Are you going to save us from the robots?'

'Quiet down! Some of us are trying to rest!'

Angela could feel the tension building, and clapped her hands, entering one of her most needy rooms with a slight skip to her step.

'Now, now, everyone. It is almost time for bed. Let's thank Fareeha for helping today. She'll be departing tomorrow…?'

'Yes.'

'Let's say goodnight for now. Is everyone settled? Does anyone need anything before I go for a bit?'

'The doctors helped ensure everyone was taken care of.' Fareeha reported.

Angela led Fareeha down one of the halls to what could be considered her office, if not for the fact it was literally the smallest table and two stools. She offered the woman a seat, the itch to continue making her rounds festering. An emergency could disrupt them at any moment, but for now, Angela felt the need to talk with this individual.

'Your bedside manners are better than I expected.'

'Thank-you. But I did not connect with everyone. One man was particularly disgruntled by my presence. He didn't speak English, but one of the other doctors translated that he wanted his angel, not some Amazonian warrior.'

Angela gasped, but then couldn't help but giggle a little.

'Was that Shad?'

'…Yes. I believe that was his name.'

'I'm so sorry, Fareeha. He's something of an old…er…charmer.'

'Charmer?'

'Let us just say his hands have been slapped a number of times.'

'…I don't understand.'

Angela continued to laugh. When was the last time she sincerely found humour in something? Fareeha was obviously smart and had enough life experience to boot but, at the same time, she was oddly ignorant and innocent at times. It was highly amusing.

'He…ahem…likes to touch inappropriately when given the occasion.'

Fareeha's face went red, her dark skin turning a wonderful shade in compensation. It was overly adorable, considering her stature and demeanor.

'He has groped you?'

'On many occasions. A sly devil, that one.'

'You are not bothered by this?'

Angela giggled again, knowing Fareeha was being exceedingly sincere, as always.

'Honestly, Fareeha, I'm not; not to the extent I could be. He's an old man. I don't encourage it, but most of my patients aren't leaving here anytime soon. If that's what helps him fight, and if he happens to catch me with my guard down, then so be it.'

'I would not appreciate such a breach.'

'That doesn't surprise me.' Angela was still smiling, eyeing Fareeha with intrigue. 'But Fadhil seemed to like you. He's never responded so well to someone before. Perhaps he could sense your similarities.'

'Agreed. He is a good boy, and will make a fine man if taken care of…which I know he will be.'

'Oh? You're not going to attempt to convince me to return to Overwatch?'

'You already gave me your answer, did you not?'

'Well, yes, but I assumed you weren't done trying yet.'

'Have you changed your mind?' Fareeha raised a brow.

'No. You see what I do here. I can't leave yet.'

'As I thought.' The larger woman stood. 'Is there anything left to do? Allow me to help more.'

'Sit for a moment.' Angela cocked her head. 'It's quieter for a spell around this time. I want to speak with you further. I have approximately ten minutes before another batch of rounds need to be made.'

Fareeha listened slowly, glancing about the place again.

'You are hidden from the battles here?'

'Somewhat. We move periodically, when possible. This sort of establishment is not appreciated by those who would propagate conflict. Unfortunately, the same propagators are the ones in power.'

'Unacceptable.' Fareeha grunted.

'Agreed. The innocent are the ones who suffer because of a select few and their greed. This country, perhaps, is one of the most devastated by such mentality. I don't see my work ending here anytime soon.'

'These people adore you.'

Angela shrugged.

'They seem to appreciate my efforts, at the very least.'

Fareeha paused, playing with her thumbs in her lap. She was anxious about saying whatever she would next.

'I will give Winston all the details tomorrow. He will understand, I'm sure.'

'…Are you disappointed?' Angela asked selfishly, for she knew the answer.

'Of course, I am.' The other woman admitted easily. 'However, at the same time, I am overjoyed to know that one of the heroes I have always looked up to is perhaps even more admirable of a person than I could have ever hoped.'

Angela soaked in the compliment, trying not to enjoy it too much.

'You're a curious individual, Fareeha. I dare say my evaluation of you now is quite contrasting when compared to the one I made during our very first encounter.'

'For the better, I would hope.'

Angela laughed, standing and preparing to make another set of rounds.

'Certainly, for the better.'