Pharah

The moment Tracer was gone, Fareeha finally had a chance to digest everything that had happened over the past few hours. She stood at attention, her hands behind her back, and appeared to be the perfect sentinel for Angela as she worked, but within the old soldier's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts that she had difficulty grasping entirely without her chest literally hurting as though her heart was about to stop altogether.

It had started during her first viewing of Angela in her casual clothing, with but the slightest bit of cleavage revealed on the older woman truly testing Fareeha's commitment. She successfully managed not to look in most cases, although she had the advantage of loving the sight of Angela's gorgeous blue eyes and golden-blonde hair. From there, Fareeha knew she was completely smitten. The last time she had felt emotions so strong she was but a much younger woman, learning of her mother's murder at the hands of the same individual that the girl she cared so very deeply for unbiasedly attempted to heal on many levels.

A rather ironic scene, she supposed.

Nonetheless, never before had Fareeha felt the way she did on the date with Angela. She had entertained enough men in her life. Hell, she had even told one she loved him. It was a lie. She knew it was a lie. But it was a lie she needed to convince herself of, because she was soon naked and feeling his heavy body upon her own, his powerful hands invading her privacy. It was supposed to feel good. It didn't. She thought the reason was because it was her first time. It wasn't.

When the weight of her confiscated emotions overtook her on another occasion, she allowed the opportunity to convince her experience with "love" to be circumstantially influenced. This was another man she didn't love. She had enough pride to at least not claim as much. It didn't feel good that time either.

Looking at Angela. Driving with Angela. Drinking with Angela. Talking with Angela. Getting to know Angela in a way few could manage. It all felt better than any sexual encounter Fareeha had humoured. It was the missing piece in a puzzle Fareeha didn't care to contemplate in years. It was enough, to be perfectly honest. She almost didn't think she deserved anything more.

Admittedly, Angela's evasiveness during the date when the subject matter even hinted at her and Fareeha's relationship becoming anything more than just friends hurt. However, Fareeha was more than willing to cast her own feelings aside if it meant Angela was comfortable with her as a person. Perhaps it would become unbearable in the future, the younger woman had considered, but in the moment, she was content.

And yet, when she thought the night was over, and she was rewarded enough with the mere opportunity to carry Angela (like the princess she was in Fareeha's mind) back to her room, Fareeha was satisfied. Did her chest ache somewhat from the possible fact that she and Angela may only stay friends? Of course. She was past the point of attempting to deny what she felt. But she cared about Angela so much that her happiness and comfort is what mattered, at the end of the day.

Perhaps that's why what Angela did just before Fareeha was about to leave took her mind to a euphoric place she didn't know existed. A kiss. Angela kissed her. Fareeha thought she knew what it meant to kiss someone. She was wrong. The moment – the second – Fareeha felt Angela's lips on her own, a surge of electricity fueled by affection jolted her to the core. When Angela's mouth began to open as Fareeha held her slender waist she, perhaps shamefully, considered how she was going to somehow navigate the unknown world of making love to another woman, because Fareeha wanted to. She truly did. So enraptured was she by Angela that having any form of caution seemed completely ludicrous.

So, with her desires settled, Fareeha processed everything that had occurred, and knew she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face outside of Angela's lab. She covered her cheeks and shook her head in near frustration. She couldn't control the joy leaking onto her physical appearance. If her relief came now, the fellow Overwatch agents would bear witness to her unfiltered happiness, and she would then be rather embarrassed by the display.

Indeed, until Fareeha had the chance to actually speak with Angela about what had transpired, she attempted to be reasonable, and not allow her imagination to get ahead of reality. Once the two women had the opportunity to reach a mutual understanding as to where they stood relationally, then Fareeha could authentically revel in her present situation. Before that point…

A small transport vehicle sounded further down the hall, and soon enough, Fareeha heard the footsteps of those very agents she had considered. Fortunately, she was able to place a neutral expression on her person and saluted her colleagues.

'Fareeha Amari?' The, presumably, higher ranked individual confirmed.

'Yes. Thank-you for your help.'

'Get some rest. You look exhausted.'

'We'll take it from here. Thanks.'

'Of course.' Fareeha paused, knowing she was utterly unwilling to risk a thing. 'Identifications, please.'

'Pardon?' The younger agent scowled.

'Identifications, please.' Fareeha repeated, not missing a single beat. She saw the man recoil slightly, likely unused to such women.

'Will this do, Miss Amari?' The superior revealed his card, and Fareeha took it, ensuring all the difficult-to-knowingly replicate quirks of the I.D. badges were present.

'Yes.' She turned to the younger recruit again.

'I'm with him.'

'Presumably. Identification, please.'

'Just show it, Duncan.'

"Duncan" groaned, digging out his card and practically thrusting it into Fareeha's hands.

'My apologies for the inconvenience.' Fareeha began, seeing that both men were legitimate Overwatch members. 'But behind these doors is one of our most valued members of the organization. Her abilities are matched by none that I know of, and should something happen to her because of me, I would never forgive myself. That is all. I expect our mutual maturity will allow us to treat this basic protocol as anything but an attempt to insult a co-worker.

The men appeared to soften then, Duncan waving Fareeha off politely now.

'Well, she is the angel of Overwatch. Guess it makes sense to look after her right…'

'Thank-you.' Fareeha gave a nod and then, albeit reluctantly, left her post only because she knew Angela would be irritated if she put her own wellbeing to the wayside for the doctor. Still, Fareeha extracted her phone from her pocket and tapped a quick message to the beautiful woman that occupied ninety-percent of her current mindset. She kept it simple, aware that's how Angela would appreciate it.

"Good luck."

She should've been resting. Angela told her to rest. But Fareeha found more comfort and relaxation from the sound of weights clanging against one another in a controlled, rhythmic fashion. She had gone to her room only to change into a dark blue sports bra and black leggings, otherwise, she was the only agent present in the state-of-the-art facility that allowed members of Overwatch to maintain their physique or improve upon it further. Fareeha had utilized the perk multiple times already, and she valued the investment soundly, breathing out as she lowered the bench-press machine, and then sucking in while she pushed the rather heavy load upward, her chest expanding and contracting as necessary.

Fareeha completed her final set on that particular muscle group and sat up, wiping some sweat from her forehead and taking a big gulp of the water from her bottle. She usually played some hip hop or rock, but this night called for nothing. She celebrated the silence and her thoughts, incapable of not thinking about Angela in some capacity; especially the brief intimate moment they had shared.

The workout was helping, however, because Fareeha's thoughts were more focussed and less in the clouds like the schoolgirl she shamefully felt like with how much her heart insisted on flipping.

The night went on, and although Fareeha knew not to expect a reply from Angela quickly, she wouldn't deny that she had her concerns about the other woman, the work she was likely putting into evaluating Widowmaker's condition nothing simple. Fareeha wished she could help, but science and the medical field were anything but her specialty. She would only be in the way, and when she had caught a glimpse of Angela in a focussed, serious state; Fareeha knew it was wisest to give her space no matter how much she didn't want to.

Another set. Breathe. Drink. Sit. Think. Another set. Another set. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Fareeha was glistening after almost an hour and a half of lifting weights of every variety. She was especially motivated this night, valuing the tearing of her muscles, knowing they would only rebuild stronger and more capable than ever before. She was serious about being Angela's personal bodyguard, but Overwatch wouldn't let just anyone look after their unique angel. Fareeha wanted to stay in peak condition; perhaps become even more fit, if she could manage. She didn't want to hear any excuse denying her of the role she wished to play.

Fareeha downed the rest of her drink, staring at herself in the enormous wall mirror and the way her body shaped within her clothing. Was she…attractive? Could Angela think about her with the same desire Fareeha did toward the Swiss doctor? Could Fareeha give Angela the pleasure she deserved if they ever got to the point of making love?

Fareeha swallowed, a lump in her throat making the act difficult.

These were questions she had never cared to contemplate, and yet now, they were at the forefront of her mind so late at night in an onsite gym of all things. It felt so silly. But at the same time, Fareeha had never also felt so very alive and aware of herself on a personal, conscious level. She knew she was possibly getting ahead of the present, so the young woman attempted to reconfigure her thought pattern to finally getting some actual rest after a quick shower.

'Need someone to tuck you in, Ms. Amari?' A voice interrupted Fareeha, making her jump she was so distracted.

'Excuse me?' Fareeha turned to the source of the speaker, a strange chill stroking her spine. It was the masked woman from the meeting in Overwatch Gibraltar's main tower. She was obviously an influential member of the team, but that's all Fareeha knew about her besides her insistence on wearing a rather mysterious accessary to hide the entirety of her face.

'It's just so very late, isn't it? I'm leading the night watch this evening, and when Athena reported a newer recruit utilizing part of our training facility so deep into the night, my interest was piqued, one might say. I do like a soldier so dedicated to bettering their body for the fights ahead.'

Her rank was high enough to be the commander of the night watch. This meant she was a Master or Grandmaster. Those ranks weren't handed out easily, which coloured Fareeha impressed. The woman also sounded a little older, which was even more interesting.

'I…had a lot on my mind. Exercise has always been a good outlet for me.'

'A healthy one, too!' The woman seemed to agree, somehow easing Fareeha into a strange sense of nostalgic comfort.

'I was just finishing up. It's been a long day.'

'They tend to be like that in this line of work, Fareeha.' The tone in the woman's voice shifted, and Fareeha blinked, an uncanny notion of adolescence picking at her brain, then.

'That's true.' Fareeha squinted, as if doing so would help her see past the mask.

'This? It helps with questions. My face tends to encourage them, and I haven't the patience or time anymore.'

'You were in the first war?' Fareeha pried, forgetting she was shimmering with sweat, and stepping forward only a couple of times.

'I was.'

'With Jack, Reinhardt, and…?'

'All of them. Angela included'

'You're one of the legendary heroes?'

'The concept still baffles me.'

Fareeha caught her breath, the intonation aged, and the way this woman talked with a twinkle in every word ripping her childhood open from all the seams. Impossible. It was…impossible. And even if it was possible, why now? Why…now and not…?

'Take off your mask.' Fareeha whispered.

'Now, is that any way to speak to a superior officer?'

'Please. Take off your mask.' She repeated. Fareeha's hands shook. Her teeth chattered. Her legs wobbled. Her heart hammered.

'…It was my intent from the moment I knew you had joined the fight, Fareeha. But…I suppose some form of cowardice settled into my plans, and a maddened idea that you were better off without knowing replaced any courage I had. I will say I'm sorry, but I understand if you cannot forgive me right away.'

Fareeha's face contorted, and her eyes were already burning.

'Take off…the mask…' She whimpered. How quickly a world could change. In two instances within twenty-four hours, Fareeha's understanding of her present day had shifted dramatically. She knew she was elated over the first, but conflicting emotions waged all-out war in her mind now. Until the mask was removed, she couldn't control what she felt.

'Angela's words finally convinced me after I thought about it enough. Those words…and the upcoming missions. I'm sorry, Fareeha. I'm truly sorry.'

Fareeha looked through a blurred vision as the woman unfastened her mask, slowly extracting it from her elderly visage to reveal a tattoo not dissimilar to Fareeha's own over her eye, and a face that clearly contributed to shaping a sobbing daughter's.

'M-mother…!' She said in a rare use of her homeland's rooted language.

'My beautiful daughter, you have made this pitiful woman so incredibly proud.' Ana returned.

Fareeha hesitated, but instinctually ran to her mom, grabbing her and enveloping her in an embrace that Fareeha had to actually reach down to commit. She was so much taller than her mother now. She was so much stronger. The grip that held her back was still that of a seasoned warrior, but even Ana was subject to Time's cruel consequences, and the reality of the years lost only served to torture the Amari daughter further.

'Why…!?' Fareeha sobbed.

'For reasons…that seem so very foolish now…' Ana's voice shook as well. 'Perhaps this old woman is truly becoming senile.'

Fareeha felt Ana's hand stroking her sticky head, and this caused the girl to push away, her cheeks flushing.

'I-I'm sorry. I'm still sweaty.'

'Please.' Ana chuckled, her momentary dishevelment conquered with some effort, it appeared. 'I'd rather have a child covered in sweat and signs of hard work than anything else.'

'Heh. Well, I am frequently that.'

'You are, and it's quite becoming.'

'A biased opinion.'

'True, but you wouldn't be officially a Diamond rank any other way.'

Fareeha sighed, rubbing her brow and shaking her head perpetually.

'You have some explaining to do. I…I still can't even believe this. And…your eye? Is that where…?'

'Yes. That's where the girl known as Amelie or, perhaps more accurately, Widowmaker managed to best me because of a second of hesitation on my part. Foolishness. The battlefield is no place for sentimentality; remember this.'

A jolt made Fareeha's body practically jerk, her mother's curt yet playful tone bringing forth buried memories of bestowed wisdom and training.

'I don't know if I want to hug you again…or slap you, Mother.'

'A fair comment.' Ana shrugged. 'I can willingly accept either.'

'You should.' Fareeha smirked. 'I'll think about it.'

'Perhaps while I…attempt to explain myself to some degree?'

'Only if you join me for a drink of coffee back at my place, Mother. That's my condition.' Fareeha decided, her heart sinking in fear but also rising back up due to the inexplicable relief to know her kin was truly alive.

'I will inform my team that my break is about to be had.' Ana agreed.

Fareeha allowed Ana into her room and hastily picked up some of her clothes from the floor, piling them into her laundry basket and turning on a small lamp near her bedside.

'Feh. They're treating my daughter like some scrub? You deserve better facilities than this.' Ana giggled. 'Although, I say that, but I wouldn't have given you special treatment if I had a say in the matter either.'

'It's fine. I don't need more than this.' Fareeha went to the small kitchen that had barely enough space to navigate as a single individual, let alone anyone else intruding. She got a pot of coffee going with practised motions, wondering if it was wise of her to participate considering she needed more rest than her mother at this point.

'Of course. You've never been a prima donna. Good to see that hasn't changed.'

'Never.'

Ana wandered a bit, obviously evaluating what little Fareeha's tiny living space had to offer. She hadn't put up any decorations save for a small picture by her bed, one that had most of the original Overwatch members in their prime and Fareeha as a young girl amidst the greatness in all the glory the world's saviors had to offer. Ana couldn't resist picking up the photograph, smiling melancholically at the faces she had known so intimately.

'We were family, then.' She said distantly.

'It really felt that way.' Fareeha agreed.

'They all loved you. I was so proud, as well. You desperately wanted to join the fight eventually, but my stubborn streak – which you have clearly inherited – wouldn't allow it.'

'Heh. And yet, here I am.' Fareeha poured a single cup of coffee for her mother, opting for more water herself.

'Here you are, a shining star already after just one official mission.'

'I might need to thank my strong genes.'

'Perhaps.' Ana took the steaming cup of coffee, blowing into it and seating herself on Fareeha's bed beside her daughter. Fareeha once looked up at this woman, her towering figure so powerful and valiant. Now, the years had been cruel, and although she was still likely very capable, it was doubtful she could be considered one of the best Overwatch had to offer in real combat. Knowledge and wisdom, perhaps, but physical prowess, without the help of modern technology, remained crippled to an extent.

'So,' Fareeha began, a mixture of frustration and love continuing to orchestrate her attitude. 'If you survived Widowmaker's attack, where have you been?'

Ana waited a moment to answer, shaking her silver head as she gave her reply some thought.

'I was on active duty for many, many years, Fareeha. Fighting and killing was all I knew for as long as I was able. When you're the best, you're utilized above and beyond your human capabilities on more than a number of occasions.'

Fareeha's breath got caught, and she thought of Angela. The best of the best…

'I led Overwatch as second-in-command, and carried the weight of the organization's expectations for longer than I should have. All of us suffered by the end, to various degrees, and to keep a long story short, when I was near-fatally wounded by Widowmaker, I took the recovery time needed and extended it for longer than, perhaps, I should have in order to understand what it was I wanted to do with my life.'

'You ran away.' Fareeha summed up Ana's explanation in a few words, and she felt terrible for saying it immediately upon the sounds leaving her mouth.

'Heh. I ran away. Yes. It was selfish…but necessary.' Her mother took the critique boldly, and Fareeha only hurt more.

'Family.' Ana claimed quite simply. 'I decided I would fight again for my family, and for all the innocent families influenced by Talon's actions and the rising second Omnic Crisis.'

'Does father…?' Fareeha began, and Ana simply lifted a finger to her lips, that same, undeniable twinkle in her eye. Fareeha could only nod in understanding, that subject closed for the time being.

'You joined Overwatch even though I told you not to. I am not angry about that. No. I had my apprehensions, but Angela spoke very highly of you. Very highly. What choice did I have but to take her words as truth, for I'm something of a genius, but her abilities extend beyond brilliance measurable. Granted, I put up a stink, as my pride always does. However, I toiled her words in my mind, and decided the coward's way wouldn't be my way again.'

'Angela…'

'You and she have developed an incredible friendship. Incredible because I've never seen that woman connect with or care about someone like she does you. Obviously, she is a wonderful individual, ever challenging science in the attempt to better humanity's quality of life, but there has always – always – been a barrier around her heart and personal life. All of us are pleased to see she has found a true friend she seems to trust and respect. I don't know how you did it, but I certainly encourage the comradery. I know how important such relations can be.'

Fareeha nodded silently. Talking with her mother again was nothing short of wonderful, and she knew it was best not to hold a grudge, no matter how natural it would be to do. She simply wanted to value the fact Ana was, in fact, alive. She wasn't a child anymore. She wouldn't act like one. Ana was obviously human, too, and in a bizarre way, it was somewhat nice to know she was flawed at times as well.

'Angela…is very important to me.'

'It's almost funny, because you always got along better with the boys growing up. Now, one of your closest friends is someone as feminine as Angela Ziegler?'

'Heh. I know. Odd.' Fareeha's face went numb. She knew not to say anything about what her and Angela's relationship might truly be without consulting the doctor first, but it was hard to let her mother assume they were "just friends". It seemed like a betrayal to the powerful emotions that ruled Fareeha the moment she thought of Angela.

'We'll all have to lean on one another as the battle intensifies.' Ana grew serious suddenly, and Fareeha forced the butterflies out of her stomach.

'You alluded to knowing what we might be up against?'

'Yes. Talon is a problem, as always, but the omnic we faced in Volskaya Industries was a monster if ever there was one. We've codenamed it the Berserker type, because its damage output and durability exceed what we've come to expect. It's more organic as a living being as well, which forces Winston to reconsider its entire classification. I worry about the fights ahead, thus, I knew I needed to speak with you at last…before it is too late once again.'

Fareeha shook her head, touching her mother's shoulder and rubbing it softly.

'I will protect you, Mother. The sky is my domain. The omnic will be helpless against me.'

'You are one woman, Fareeha, and you cannot be everywhere.'

Fareeha thought of her desire to be assigned to Angela exclusively as well, and her mother's words rang true. She released Ana, but tightened her jaw.

'Overwatch has overcome insurmountable odds before; we shall do it again. We'll win this fight…and be a family.'

'I hope so, my child.' Ana's single eye seemed drained, but the shine returned, and she tactfully changed the subject anew, her daughter allowing as much for now. 'Speaking of family, is there a grandchild in my future anytime soon, Fareeha, my dear? Your mother has been patient, but you're almost thirty-three now. I don't recommend waiting much longer.'

The contrasting material of discussion unbalanced Fareeha, forcing her to grab hold of the matter haphazardly.

'I-I am not really interested in such things at the moment.'

'Oh? Why ever not? If I could manage to do it; you can. And let me tell you, it is a pleasure I didn't think possible. Why, just looking at you now…it's…truly something.' Ana's voice trembled, and Fareeha couldn't help her eyes burning. Her mother tried to be so strong – and she was – so this moment of vulnerability meant that much more.

'Maybe…someday…'

'We'll have to find you a proper man first, won't we? I admire you being selective, but entertaining a date or two you initially don't see going anywhere is worth the time as well here and there. Perhaps being my daughter is a hinderance? I'm a scary woman, it's true.'

'You're not alive to most, Mother.'

'Oho! Quite right!'

There was some laughter between the two women, and Ana put her cup of coffee down, glancing to Fareeha and reaching up to the left side of her face, touching it tenderly.

'I'm sorry…' She said it again. Fareeha could only close her eyes, putting her own hand overtop of her mother's, nuzzling into the familial affection.

'I know. I…I will try to understand as best I can. Thank-you for coming back to me. Don't do that again.'

'If I can help it, I promise you, Fareeha. I'll fight until the end.'

Fareeha leaned forward, meeting her mother's head and connecting with her one final time for the night, knowing she would be leaving her to finish her shift.

'Good.'

A beat, and Ana stood up, waving her hand in front of her nose comedically.

'Now, take a shower, my love, because…well…you worked hard, didn't you?'

'Hahah!' Fareeha chuckled, shrugging. 'Do we Amari's perform any task with anything but our best, Mother?'

'Ah. I suppose not.'

'I'm sure you're break is over as well. I look forward to helping you win this war, Mother. Do not worry; I am ready. I won't disappoint you.'

'You never have, Fareeha. Ever. I can't say the same about myself, however.'

'We live and learn.' Fareeha consoled.

'That we do, Fareeha. That we do.' She lifted a hand, Ana's broad shoulders smaller, and her overall height shrunken. 'Goodnight, my child.'

'Goodnight, Mother.'

The door slid shut, and Fareeha could only let out a deep gasp, covering her face and knowing the tears were coming. She had held out so well, and she couldn't quite explain why she broke down then, but it was a release her body clearly needed, the events of her day unlike anything from her past. She heard her own voice sobbing, the wetness in her hands slippery and salty. Her mouth twisted, and her neck convulsed. This lasted quite some time, and when Fareeha finally made it to the shower, her eyes were puffy, and her head pounded like nothing else. Nonetheless, the end result of all her muddled emotions was joy, and when she finally lay in her bed, refreshed and revitalized, she checked her phone to find a single message that allowed her to, at last, discover a new form of rest.

"My thanks, Fareeha."