Pharah

'Flying high in the sky…' Fareeha said aloud, leaving most of the navigational work to the autopilot but making personal, minor adjustments to the course as necessary. Angela was in the co-pilot's seat, sitting with a natural grace that was somehow almost distracting.

'That we are. So long as Talon isn't persistent enough to attack us up here, we should arrive at Watchpoint Gibraltar within a couple of hours.' The good doctor sounded just a little quieter than usual, and this piqued Fareeha's interest enough to say something.

'Are you…okay?' She asked, knowing it wasn't a showing of courtesy she generally displayed to just anyone. She wasn't the best at "reading" other people in her life. It was one of her superior's most prominent critique when she was in the army. However, for some reason, Fareeha found herself trying adamantly to understand Angela's closed off mind and heart.

'Quite. I'm more concerned about you, to be perfectly honest. Despite the medical attention I provided, I imagine your shoulder remains sore, yet you are flying us rather admirably.'

'Heh. I'm barely doing a thing.' Fareeha was tired of the way her blood sped up with every compliment. Was this how it was going to be when she met all the other heroes of Overwatch? Thank goodness for her darker skin; it hid her perpetual embarrassment rather well.

'I suppose that's true…'

There was silence, and Fareeha searched for something to say within it. The moment they reached Watchpoint Gibraltar, everything was going to change. These last few days with Angela were much different than what Fareeha had expected. She had gotten to know one of the heroes from her dreams intimately well because of the bizarre chain of events they had experienced together. Fareeha wasn't so arrogant as to consider herself Angela's friend, but she certainly thought highly of the other woman. If anything, she wanted to maintain some form of relationship with her. She felt fiercely protective of the genius doctor. The thought of not being around when she was in danger created a painful void in Fareeha's stomach.

'Now then, let's see…' Angela suddenly perked up, tapping her cheek. 'What shall we call you on the field, Ms. Amari?'

'Come again?' Fareeha rose a brow, glancing to her side and gifting herself with a glimpse of the angelic co-pilot.

'Well, many of the prominent Overwatch agents use codenames for a multitude of reasons. Tracer loves the idea of sounding like a real superhero, while I believe they're mostly used to protect our identities to a certain extent. Not everyone has one, of course, but it can help with the language barriers that sometimes exist as well, despite most of the world adapting some level of English by this point in time.'

'True…'

'So! Was there something you called yourself when you were playing make-believe heroes growing up?'

'W-what!? How did you…?'

'Oh, Fareeha. It doesn't take a genius to assume you were quite the tomboy in your youth. Your admiration for Overwatch solidifies the latter presumptions as well.'

Fareeha sucked in some air. Angela understood her better with every passing hour they spent together. Better than her late mother even…But why couldn't Fareeha get a proper read on this admirable woman? It was frustrating how limited her intellect was socially. Never had she wished to know someone else's thoughts so desperately.

'I…don't really recall.'

'Oh. That's no fun.'

'Sorry.'

'No need to apologize.' Angela giggled. She seemed to be in better spirits now that she was teasing Fareeha again. If that's what it took to see such a smile, Fareeha didn't mind in the slightest. 'It just means we shall think of one together. There is time to spare, is there not?'

'Well, yes.'

'Heheh! Then, let us begin! What are your initial thoughts?'

Fareeha took a moment, but her mind was jumbled, and Angela's voice was becoming more precious the less time remained on their trip. How big was Watchpoint Gibraltar? Would they be able to see one another at least a little bit? But that didn't feel like enough to Fareeha. She wanted to spend more than "a little" time with Angela. However, perhaps after she met the other heroes she would be satisfied with their presence as well. Yet, that didn't seem correct either…

'Creativity has never been my strong suit.'

'I suspected as much. Fortunately for us, I have some experience naming new viruses and medicines, so, I suspect I will be of assistance!'

Fareeha's face hurt she was grinning so widely. The joy she felt when Angela was happy seemed curiously abundant. It was a new sensation, but one she certainly didn't mind.

'What are your thoughts on the name "Anubis"?'

Fareeha blinked, hesitating to respond.

'Oh! You don't like it?'

'It's…not that I dislike it…but…'

'Hmm. I suppose it has some rather negative connotations. God of death and the like.'

'Right. It would almost be the equivalent to an American calling themselves "Satan" or "Lucifer".'

'Yuck. My apologies.'

'Not at all.'

'How insensitive of me.'

'It really doesn't bother me that much.'

'Ever ignorant at times…'

'Pardon?' Fareeha questioned, not quite hearing Angela's words exactly.

'Nothing. Just the ramblings of a crazed, old lady.'

'Stop saying that.'

'Heheh!'

Fareeha bit her lip, a swelling of emotion coming over her. This desire to protect Angela's mental and physical health was starting to be concerning. She wanted to hug the other woman for some reason, and that in itself was the epitome of bizarre for Fareeha considering she was anything but someone who embraced familiar contact with most.

'Well, then; how do you feel about "Jackal"?'

'Um…A bit better.'

'But still don't love it?'

'It has a nice edge to it.'

'I don't mind if you refute my ideas, Fareeha. I won't be offended. I've been verbally attacked on more than a few occasions. I'm tougher than I look, I'll have you know.'

'Attacked? By who?' Fareeha's brow furrowed, and her grip on the aircraft tightened.

'Oh, just envious colleagues more than anything. It was nothing, really. No need to be so angered.'

'I-I'm not angry.'

'Your physical rhetoric states otherwise. Rather protective of me, aren't you?' Angela nudged Fareeha's shoulder, giggling playfully. 'I'm a big girl. There is no need to worry.'

Fareeha didn't have a response she could be satisfied with for that. She knew she didn't really have a place in Angela's life beyond this mission. They had connected, to a degree, but it was mostly out of necessity as far as Angela was concerned, surely. Fareeha didn't want to think about it any further. Her chest was starting to hurt, and it was a pain she was rather unfamiliar with.

'Ah!' Angela clapped her delicate fist into her hand. 'I believe I've got it!'

'Pardon?' Fareeha had forgotten what the subject matter was entirely. Her mind was officially elsewhere.

'Pharah. What do you think?'

'Pharah?'

'It's a mixture of the word pharaoh and your name, Fareeha. Rather appropriate, wouldn't you say? At once, it is somewhat soft sounding, but at the same time, the word pharaoh itself carries weight and respect. You are in control of the power you wield, like a good king or, in this case, pharaoh. You are also quite regal, if you don't mind me saying. I admire the dignified way you carry yourself. I personally think we have a winner.'

'Pharah…' Fareeha repeated the alias, and she would admit that her heart was skipping a beat. She connected with the name, and her cheeks pinched with excitement. Angela Ziegler had thought of it, and her reasoning was beyond flattering.

'Yes. I…I really like that.'

'Do you? Wonderful! Then it's settled. Heheh! I feel quite accomplished. Somewhat sad, really.'

Fareeha glanced to Angela beside her and thought about the events over the last couple of days. This woman was stronger than any could guess. She persevered where many would fall. She smiled when she should be crying. She was beyond Fareeha's grasp in every way, yet the younger woman couldn't help but want to reach out.

'Thank-you. I'll cherish the name.' Fareeha could only think to reply with.

'Oh. No need to go that far. We were just passing the time. You can change it should you feel the need.'

Fareeha swallowed, her throat tight. That wall again. Was it even possible to scale such a thing?

'I won't.' She answered simply but not without resolve.

Fareeha managed to land the aircraft without much issue, relaying her safety through her headset to her receiver on Watchpoint Gibraltar. Despite this, there were still a decent number of agents at ready once the door exhaled loudly, smoothly sliding open to allow Fareeha and Angela departure from their ride.

Once both women were seen safe and sound, with no other unwanted individuals alongside them, the Overwatch agents seemed to relax in unison, happily lowering their guard and brightening up especially at the sight of the nearly legendary Mercy. Fareeha could feel her nerves festering a little, but she wasn't completely unused to such a setting, and only the fact she was somehow living out a childhood dream finally caused her apprehension.

'Good day, everyone. In case you are unfamiliar with me, I am Angela Ziegler, also known as Mercy, should that be simpler for you to pronounce or remember. I am the head of our medical team here, and I also frequent the battlefield as a healer. It is a pleasure, although I wish Overwatch wasn't a necessity at all, to be perfectly honest.'

There were murmurs of agreement and other stares of bewilderment. Fareeha was certain she had a similar reaction when meeting the angelic individual herself.

'Introduce yourself, Pharah.' Angela murmured behind herself subtly, and the younger girl's heart jumped.

'I am Fareeha Amari, daughter to Ana Amari, whom some of you may already know. My codename is Pharah, and I pilot the prototype Raptora Mark VI, which allows me to fly in the sky and protect the innocent. This is my first time fighting for Overwatch, but I don't intend to be a burden.'

Fareeha stood at attention, and her already tall and somewhat imposing build allowed her to feel even larger. She looked down on many of the men, and could feel their intimidation.

'Lovely.' Angela clapped her hands together fondly. 'Now, if someone would be so kind, may we speak with Winston?'

An awkward pause, with one of the more experienced men stepping forth and speaking up.

'Winston left alongside Genji on an emergency mission in Numbani, but another has arrived and is currently leading Overwatch in Winston's absence.'

'Oh? And who might that be?' Angela tapped her cheek with what appeared to be a knowing grin.

'It's been a while.' An older man's gruff voice rumbled as he turned his chair that was situated before a large array of monitors, high in one of the base's lookout towers. It was clearly Winston's primary space, for there was a spacesuit fit only for a gorilla, a tire strung to the ceiling, bananas and peanut butter leftovers, and complicated sheets full of equations that made little to no sense to Fareeha. However, all these details escaped Fareeha when she looked upon who she could only assume to be Jack Morrison, the late "leader" of Overwatch, although such a title could not be used haphazardly at this point when discussing the hero of days past. His face had aged significantly, but his body seemed fitter than ever, rippling with a toned muscular construct that was evidently influenced by the rumoured enhancements he and a select few other agents had participated in to better fight the omnics.

'Jack. You look well.' Angela said with such unfiltered affection that Fareeha's chest physically hurt.

'I'm sure.' Jack growled. 'You, on the other hand, haven't aged a day. Here I thought my body was messed with beyond repair.'

'An apple a day keeps the doctor away.' Angela shrugged.

'Yeah. Or nanotechnology so advanced it'd cost a small country to even begin mass production.'

'Tsk. Tsk. That's a rather presumptuous thing to imply.'

The two bantered like family, with no reservation or airs. Fareeha witnessed the interaction, and although she felt something akin to the same admiration she had for Angela upon first meeting her, she expected something else, sensing more jealousy forming in her stomach than she could possibly understand.

'Fareeha.' Jack turned to her now, standing up and matching Fareeha's height but far outweighing her when it came to pure girth. He was an imposing man through and through, easily giving off the aura that he could break almost anyone who dared to cross him and his years of combat experience.

'Fareeha Amari. Ana's little girl. Not so little now. You remember me?'

'Somewhat.' She reminisced an American icon, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smug, square jaw to match it all. What Jack was now couldn't be compared, although he seemed very reliable, like a father almost.

'You have good posture. Definitely a soldier. Your mother taught you well.'

'She taught me enough. I learned more on my own.'

Jack paused, eyeing Fareeha with his damaged, sensitive pupils.

'She was trying to protect you.' He said sternly, sensing Fareeha's irritation.

'I know.' Fareeha responded, harnessing her emotions as best as possible.

'No mother would want to subject her child to war if she could help it.' Angela supported Jack, and it didn't help Fareeha's need.

'It's in the past. I'm here now. She's not. I'll prove her wrong.'

Jack gave Angela a look, and Fareeha's eye twitched. The man then scratched the back of his neck, cracking his shoulders and grunting.

'This might get interesting…'

'You don't have to worry about me. I am more than capable.' Fareeha insisted, knowing she should stop talking sooner rather than later.

'Jack doesn't seem to doubt that.' Angela stepped forward, touching Jack on the chest and pushing him back into the chair he had been sitting in. She took hold of his face and gripped it tightly, from what Fareeha could see. The proximity between the two Overwatch agents was almost embarrassing, but Fareeha couldn't look away.

'Hold still.' Angela demanded, and Jack groaned in frustration.

'I'm fine.'

'I highly doubt that. From what I've heard, you've been very busy.'

'Just doin' what no one else will.'

'And now you're here.'

'…Didn't have a choice.'

'So it would seem.'

'And you?'

'A similar conclusion.'

Fareeha should've been in awe, but she was just becoming more irritable with every passing minute. She was being ridiculous, especially considering what she had just stated. Her mother would be ashamed of such lack of emotional control. But she just couldn't…

'Do I have a room? Am I needed for anything else for now?' Fareeha finally asked, trying not to snap the questions out.

Angela released Jack's head, pointing at him angrily.

'See me in my office once I am situated. You need proper treatment.'

'…Yes, m'am.' He fixed his attention on Fareeha once more. 'At this moment, we're on standby. I'm running some analytics on various hotspots in the world for Talon involvement, but for now, Russia seems to be the swelling point for the uprising of another Omnic Crisis. It's contained there currently, but Winston was in the middle of making plans to assist and nip this issue in the bud if at all possible. Unfortunately, he received word that Lena's mission may be compromised due to an unforeseen, undesirable threat that could tip this whole fight in Talon's favour.'

'Which one?' Angela sighed.

'Doomfist.' Jack answered somberly, and a chill ran Fareeha's spine. That wasn't a name one wanted to hear no matter what the scenario, but when attached to an already dire situation, the involvement of Doomfist was beyond undesirable.

'It is suspected that his escape is imminent?' Angela said quietly, sounding ever intelligent.

'With the moves Talon's making, I wouldn't doubt it. Winston left before I even got here. Don't know if he'll make it in time, but it's better than nothing. For now, I'm taking charge, but as soon as he's back, the big guy can run the show. I'm long past that burden.'

'Enough, Jack. There's little benefit in acting in such a way.' Angela chastised, and the old solider sighed in frustration.

'I'm here, aren't I? I'll do what I'm best at and finish this war. It never ended to begin with. The only difference now is that we're acting as criminals against the U.N. Winston told you that, right?' Jack's icy stare found Fareeha, and she wouldn't let herself flinch.

'I'm aware of the risks.'

'…Good.'

A pause, with a heavy silence filling the air. Fareeha understood where she was now. She was living her dream, but like all dreams, the reality of it all wasn't as romantic as one would hope. This was war. This was life or death. It wasn't unlike the Egyptian army, but the lack of governmental support was more unnerving than Fareeha would have suspected.

'Bradley, get up here.' Jack demanded into what appeared to be a communication device connected to one of the many terminals. He turned back to Fareeha, almost seeming to smile a partial amount. 'You're going to get shown to your quarters. We still have a lot of rooms to fill, but Winston is doing better than I could. This might not be the suicide mission I thought it was after all.'

Fareeha glanced to Angela, wanting to ask where she would be staying but knowing it wasn't her place to know anymore.

'Affirmative. I appreciate it.'

'Winston's notes say you can pilot some mechanized suit or something?'

Fareeha nodded proudly.

'Yes. It's one of the few fully functioning Raptora line of aerial assault units. It can be difficult to utilize, but I'm told I have talent, thus I was trusted with the Mark VI version.'

'Which you stole and brought here with us. That's government property, isn't it?'

'Jack.' Angela whispered.

'Not like I really care. We're no better than terrorists ourselves, at the end of the day. We'll make good use of it after the specs are measured properly, I'm sure.'

A knock on the door was heard, and Jack allowed access to a young man with darker features, not unlike Fareeha. He may have even been Egyptian, if Fareeha wasn't mistaken, although he stood just a little shorter than her. Bradley might not even be his real name. He was conventionally good looking, with a longer, angular face, but Fareeha didn't give him much attention beyond the initial observation.

'Bradley reporting.'

'Yep. Good. Show Fareeha to her room. Residential sector B in room 58. Here's the key card. Communicate with me when the job is done. Help her with her stuff. We'll decide where we'll store your suit later. Keep it with you for now.'

'Yes, sir!'

Fareeha wanted to say something, but she couldn't form a coherent thought. A piece of her was being pulled at, and it wasn't comfortable. This was reality. This was what being in Overwatch was. She wasn't a hero like Mercy, Tracer, Winston, Jack, or even Genji. She was a grunt. Until she proved herself, Fareeha was just another agent who would occupy one of the many rooms reserved for "regular" soldiers. Angela would have an entire office to herself, because she was special and important. Jack assumed command when Winston was out. Genji took on missions only someone of his special skillset could ever hope to manage. Tracer was the beacon of light and the poster girl for Overwatch's newfound revival. Fareeha was just…the daughter to a legend.

But she would change that.

'Thank-you for everything, Jack. Angela.' Fareeha finally said, and she ignored the pain that tugged at her chest, aware that she was just being a spoiled, demanding girl. She wouldn't disappoint Ana's memory. She wouldn't let Jack down. She would show Angela just what she was capable of. And then maybe, just maybe, she could stand by the doctor's side again as she had over the last few days. What Fareeha wouldn't give for such an opportunity. It was a goal she didn't quite understand completely, but it was a goal nonetheless.