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songs of the day are Mountains made of steam by A Silver Mt. Zion; and Antaeus by Khuda
When she came to there was nothing but darkness. Very briefly she wondered how she was still alive, but the doctor in her took over almost immediately. The first thing she noticed was the very fact that she was still breathing, which meant that the wound in her abdomen must have been closed while she was out cold. Then she became aware of the heavy weight pressing down on her chest, making that breathing difficult. Likely some debris, which was probably also responsible for the sharp pain in her left side every time she took a breath.
Just a few cracked ribs, nothing to worry about.
She could move her arms, however fractionally in what little space they had, which was a relief. Her legs, however…
This is bad. Really bad.
She could feel neither of her legs at least from the knee down, and any attempt to move them was punished by such intense pain it made her eyes water.
Okay, don't panic. You've gotten out of worse situations. They just need to find you soon, and everything will be fine.
She was so tired she didn't even notice Satya enjoying her breakfast when she trudged into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee machine. Only after the apparatus roared to life grinding those precious beans did she hear the offended squawk coming from the nook that was Satya's usual place. She turned around and sent an apologetic glance to her, silently willing the machine to finish faster. The whole episode only lasted for about thirty seconds but felt like a lifetime.
"Sorry about that" she mumbled after the cup had been filled, adding her small mountain of sugar crystals. "I would have warned you, but I didn't notice you sitting there."
"I am not surprised." was Satya's matter-of-fact response, and Angela quietly wondered how she was able to make the simple act of stirring her upma seem indignant. "Your tiredness is quite obvious."
The blonde had the decency to look properly abashed, and quickly took a sip from her mug to hide her tired visage.
"I haven't been sleeping well lately." she admitted before it even occurred to her that Satya might not have wanted to have a conversation this early in the day.
"So I have noticed" the Indian stated after she'd finished her breakfast, moving her empty bowl and spoon to the sink and starting washing it. Angela was sitting down, munching on a bagel when Satya spoke up again.
"Something seems to be troubling you."
Angela paused mid-bite. She shouldn't have been surprised, really. Satya had often demonstrated just how perceptive she really was, even though she rarely ever engaged in conversation.
"That obvious, huh?" she asked lamely after swallowing her bite, turning around to face her friend.
"Quite," was the Indian's succinct reply, "although I am unsure what the root cause may be. Am I correct in the assumption that it has something to do with our last mission?"
Angela deflated just the tiniest bit. So much for trying to steer the conversation somewhere else. She considered lying about it but abandoned that thought rather quickly. She wasn't that confident in her fibbing abilities this early in the day. Or any time of the day, really.
"Sort of." she eventually settled on, debating how much she should actually reveal. "I have an... issue I need to deal with, one that has been in the back of my mind for quite some time. But the disaster in Oujda has made ignoring it any further impossible."
"And what precisely would that issue be?" Satya asked, straight to the point.
Angela took a deep breath but stopped before she even began talking. How could she put the whirlwind of emotion into words? How could she explain just how wrong it felt, having to re-purpose her own technology to harm and maim and kill - even if it was just for one particular person, even if it was for the greater good, whatever that was supposed to be. She wasn't sure anymore.
So she settled for an approach Satya would most likely understand. The logical one, as logical as one could get when personal convictions were involved.
"You remember how angry I was with Ana and Torbjörn when I found out they weaponized my technology behind my back? How angry I actually still am?"
Satya gave a curt nod and waited for her to continue.
"I have to do the same thing: weaponize my technology, altering my nanites so they kill rather than heal."
"But you have a good reason?" Satya asked.
Angela laughed mirthlessly. "Can there ever be a truly good reason to kill someone?"
"Of course." was Satya's immediate reply, so self-assured it made Angela's eyes narrow. "If you have to end someone's life to protect another, isn't that a valid reason?"
There was something in her tone, something that made Angela's hackles rise. She felt transported back in time, re-living half-overheard arguments between Jack and Gabe while she was wrist-deep in the guts of a dying woman.
"You decided to detonate the bomb here? Are you insane, Reyes?!"
"It was either that or let them get away! Yes, a bunch of people died here; but would you prefer if they brought that thing to major metropolitan center?"
"So it's better for twenty innocent people to die than two hundred?" she whispered, quoting Jack's remembered reply.
Unfortunately, Satya caught it.
"It would be preferable if no one died, but yes. Better twenty than two hundred."
Angela's head snapped up, jabbing an accusing finger in Satya's direction. "So that's it, then? Life or death is just a math equation?"
Satya cocked her head to the side. "I do not understand, what does this has to do with your dilemma, Dr. Ziegler?"
"Everything!" Angela almost shouted, breathing heavily. "Who gets to decide who lives or dies? Who has the right to do that? Why do I have to make that decision?!"
"I trust you to make the right decision, Dr. Ziegler. Everyone here does."
"That's not the point!" Angela replied through clenched teeth. "No one should have the power to make such a decision! This is why Overwatch was shut down in the first place. Perhaps it should have stayed dead."
With that she stormed out of the kitchen, the still steaming mug on the counter the only visible sign she'd been there in the first place.
Fareeha found Angela in her office, staring through the open window down into the vast ocean. Her eyes seemed unfocused, and if she registered Fareeha entering the room, she didn't show it.
"Angela?"
The blonde startled, eyes briefly landing on Fareeha's form, before returning to the endless blue waters.
"Are you alright?" Fareeha asked when she didn't receive any further acknowledgement. "Satya said you behaved oddly, to quote her directly."
Angela visibly deflated upon hearing that name, and let out a long sigh. She finally turned around with her chair to face Fareeha and let out the most unladylike groan while sliding down in her chair, until she almost fell out of it.
Fareeha couldn't suppress her chuckle and went over to the blonde, perching herself on the desk. Angela heaved herself into a proper sitting position once again, before letting her face fall into both her hands.
"Talk to me." Fareeha softly urged, her calloused hand coming to rest on Angela's shoulder.
The Swiss mumbled something unintelligible, but before Fareeha could ask she repeated herself.
"I'm such a hypocrite."
"Oh?" Fareeha asked, one eyebrow raised. "How so?"
Angela had fallen silent again, seemingly staring into nothing. Fareeha was about to speak up when the doctor moved, opening the top drawer of her desk and pulling something out. Fareeha inspected the object deposited on the desk. It was a vial, filled with a thick, viscous liquid that seemed to fluctuate between a dark blue and green color. A muted glow emanated from the container, barely enough to illuminate the surrounding papers.
"Is this it?" she asked.
Angela didn't reply at first, gaze transfixed on the vial while she cradled the hand that had held it; almost as if she'd been burned.
"It's been finished for three days." she whispered, finally looking up at Fareeha. In all the years they'd been together, she had never seen the Swiss so conflicted, so unsure of herself, not even when they had discussed whether or not to respond to the recall.
So she got onto her knees and gathered the blonde into her arms, her hand finding its way into golden hair.
"It's okay, malak. You did fine."
"Then why does it feel like such a mistake?" came the barely audible reply, one that Fareeha had no answer for.
They eventually broke apart and, after a heavy sigh, Angela righted herself in her chair.
"Thanks for dropping by." she murmured, throwing a fleeting glance at the vial before looking into Fareeha's eyes again. "Could you tell your mother to come find me if you run into her?"
Fareeha paused for a moment, eyes narrowed, but Angela quickly tried to assuage any suspicion. "I won't yell at her, Bärli. Well, at least I'm not planning to."
"You'd better not be bitching and moaning about my 'obstinate old fool of a mother' tonight." Fareeha warned with a chuckle, blowing a kiss to her girlfriend and letting the door slide shut. She hesitated for a moment before she pulled her communicator out of her pocket and messaged her mother, asking if she'd like to have lunch together.
She'd lost track of how long she'd been here. Not that it mattered. It was already too long. It would take a small miracle to make it out alive. Scratch that, it would take an enormous one.
It's been at least… an hour? Two? No matter… I'm as good as dead.
No, bad thoughts, don't think like that. There's still a chance. All I need is more nanite solution. Maybe the backup has already arrived. There should be enough on the ship. Yes, seal it all off internally and then...well, I've always wondered what it's like walking with prosthetics. I'll be fine. It'll work out. It will work out.
If only she believed herself.
Suddenly, she heard a noise from above.
"Any questions?" Jack asked, scarred face illuminated by the projection. No one spoke up, most people still staring at the map of the target area. It was to be their first mission since Oujda and, with Athena still quarantined and cut off from the outside world, they were playing it safe.
Nine agents would be going on this mission. Reinhardt, Zarya, and DVa would form their vanguard, aggressively reconnoitering the area in front of local military units, while Angela, Ana, and Zenyatta kept them in fighting shape. Fareeha, Jack, and Lena would closely follow their front line and support the Russian troops as required.
That was the plan, at least.
Their contact in the Russian government had assured them full cooperation of the military, and also stressed that they needn't worry about civilians. The area around the Omnium, including the city of Krasnoyarsk, had long been declared an exclusion zone, one that was heavily enforced by the Russian armed forces.
That, at least, was a weight off Angela's shoulders, albeit a small one. She could only speculate what Talon would be up to at the epicenter of the Omnic crisis, but knew one thing for sure: whatever they tried to achieve, they couldn't succeed.
They definitely had their work cut out for them. Intelligence reports indicated a heavy presence of Talon ground forces, and strongly suggested the presence of several notable individuals; Reaper and Widowmaker at the very least, according to eye witnesses. For once Angela didn't think they were going overboard with the amount of firepower they would bring along.
Still, there was quite some time to go until they'd actually engage any enemy. The flight there would take close to ten hours, and a good hour of that time was due to the fact that they had to stay out over the Mediterranean and the Black Sea before they could enter Russian airspace. More than enough time to go over every facet of their plan of attack, to poke an endless number of holes in it, born from situations that ranged from unlikely to plain ridiculous. She'd gotten pretty good at blending out these pre-mission jitters in the days of the old Overwatch, a skill she was re-learning ever so slowly.
And yet, here was her saving grace, pulling her out of her head with nothing more but a gentle touch to the elbow.
"How about we find something we can munch on during the flight?" Fareeha asked, well aware of Angela's distaste for the junk food that people kept storing in the Orcas. Thus, they found themselves in the transport half an hour later, dressed in their flight suits and stowing away the rest of their gear; among the last to do so. The sound of Tracer working down the pre-flight checklist from the cockpit was drowned out when the door to the hangar opened and a stream of gibberish was yelled at someone.
„Säg till den där fåniga tjejen att om hon sätter en fot på den här stenen skickar jag tillbaka henne via posten!"
Angela whipped her head around and peeked out of the vessel.
"Trouble at home?" she asked, tone slightly teasing, and had to conceal her smile behind her hand when the reply was an aggravated huff. It took Fareeha a moment to recognize Torbjörn's voice, and to remember that Angela spoke fluent Swedish from the years she spent with the Lindholms as a teenager.
"We'll see who's laughing when you have to deal with your kids getting stupid ideas of heroism." he finally said, though with a lot less bite than his voice usually carried. He walked up the ramp to the Orca and took hold of Angela's hands with his organic one, and whispered something to her that was too quiet for Fareeha to understand. Angela only shook her head and rolled her eyes.
"I'm thirty-seven and I've been on countless mission, farbror. Don't you think I can look after myself?" she said, exasperated, but still she went down on one knee accepted the offered hug. Fareeha turned around and looked for something to busy herself with. Though probably not intentional, she felt like she wasn't meant to see this tender exchange. She tried to tune out the muted voices from behind and finally settled on pulling out one of her ammo drums, checking the proper fit of each rocket. She'd gone over all of her equipment multiple times already, but one more time wouldn't hurt either way.
She'd gone through most of her drums by the time she heard shuffling and a laugh, and turned around to see Angela upright again.
"Amari." Torbjörn simply grunted, as if he only now realized she was even there. "You watch over Angela out there, you hear?"
"I'll be keeping the skies clear for her." she replied with a cheeky smile, and the Swede merely shook his head and turned around, muttering to himself as he walked down the ramp.
"He'll never forgive me for melting his favorite hammer, will he?" Fareeha asked, watching after him.
"He loved that hammer more than his own grandkids." Angela simply replied and, perhaps rather tellingly, she couldn't tell if the Swiss was being serious or not.
"Should've taken better care of it, then." she mumbled. "What?" she continued at Angela's deadpan expression. "It's not my fault he left it lying on the ground right behind my armor mount. The scorch marks from all my previous actuation and startup test should've told him that's a bad spot!"
Angela merely laughed and shook her head, finishing her own preparations by making sure all her gear was properly stowed away. The other agents filtered in one by one and, already having taken care of their belongings, dispersed around the Orca. It would be a little cramped, but nothing they couldn't handle.
With everyone settled in they finally departed, gently hovering out of the hangar before steadily climbing into the air.
No one took notice of the folder that popped up on the computer in Jack's office.
"Shield at seventy-five per cent!" Reinhardt bellowed, causing all the Russian soldiers patched into their channel to wince. Every Overwatch member quietly appreciated that he kept his volume down.
"I'm coming towards you from the west, about twenty hostiles in tow." DVa piped up, her casual cheeriness replaced by calm determination.
They'd been making good progress so far, despite the stiff resistance. Between Reinhardt's barrier and Zarya's individual shields, they had taken barely any losses, while inflicting heavy casualties on the Talon forces opposing them. Their advance had ground to a halt at their current position, though, at the entrance to a wide-open plaza. It offered no cover whatsoever, and the opposite side had been heavily reinforced and entrenched. Talon were hitting them with heavy weapons, making any attempt at crossing a suicide run.
"How long until you get here?" Pharah asked, calmly assessing the situation.
"ETA forty seconds." came the prompt reply. She'd have to be quick.
"Zarya, prepare to throw your graviton surge into the largest available group on my mark. I'll take out those heavy machine guns."
She didn't wait for an acknowledgement, instead carefully skirting around the edge of the plaza until she had a perfect flanking angle on the Talon front line. She engaged her jets and shot into the air, sending three rockets into emplacements before she even hit the zenith. Her lightning attack had the desired effect of sowing chaos among the enemy ranks, only exacerbated by the fact that DVa zipped right across the square at that very moment. Her HUD picked up plenty of new signatures in her wake, and twenty had been a pretty accurate count.
"Zarya, mark!" she barked, right as she gave herself a quick forward boost. She watched the glowing projectile describe a graceful arc before it splashed onto the ground right in the middle of the enemy group, erupting into a blue sphere of carnage pulling in everything in a large radius.
"Justice rains from above!" she yelled, all of her engines going to max thrust to counteract the staggering force of ninety mini-rockets belching forth from her armor. It was a truly terrifying display of firepower, one she was sure would break any resistance Talon was still trying to mount in this sector.
Just as the last rocket had been fired an unseen force slammed into her chest accompanied by a crack in the distance, causing her to quickly drop down and out of sight. She landed heavily, stumbling a few steps before righting herself, acutely aware of the dull pain spreading just to the right of her heart. She looked down to find a deep gouge cut into the chest plate of her armor, but the shot didn't go through.
"Sniper!" someone yelled, and everyone who had watched her decimate the enemy troops quickly dove for cover again. Mercy was beside her in a heartbeat, quickly connecting the yellow beam of her caduceus staff.
"Didn't penetrate." Pharah wheezed, still catching her breath.
"Yes, caduceus isn't detecting any open wounds, but there is a little bit of blunt trauma."
"Nothing serious, then." she concluded, beginning to check the rest of her equipment for any damage.
"Fareeha-" Mercy started with a sigh, but was quickly cut off.
"No buts, amar. There are others who need you more."
As if to prove her point, Zarya approached them. "Group three has reported heavy resistance. They have taken their objective, but suffered several casualties."
Mercy conceded with another sigh, looking up the location of group three on her HUD.
"That's quite some distance." Pharah mused, also looking at their tactical map. "I would give you a lift, but…" she vaguely gestured around them before pointing at the dent in her armor.
"It's quite alright." Mercy replied with a chuckle, "I should be able to make it in about ten minutes. Is the way clear?"
Zarya thought for a moment. "We haven't spotted any enemy activity on the route, but I'll send two men with you. To be safe."
"Excellent. We'll depart as soon as I am finished here." Mercy briefly glanced at the square, where the dust was slowly settling. "It shouldn't take me too long."
Zarya nodded and went off to find her an escort, but Pharah had recognized that tone.
"If there had been any other way…"
"I know, love." Mercy murmured, cutting her off. She cupped Pharah's cheek with her left hand, wiping away some dust with her thumb. They paused, not wanting this brief moment of peace to end, but both knew better.
"I should get back to it." Mercy said after a few seconds and reluctantly disengaged. "Is it safe to cross the plaza?"
Pharah considered for a moment. "The shot must've come from the north-west, and quite some distance away. I don't think there are any clear sight lines as long as you stay on the ground."
Mercy peeked around the corner and turned around one last time. "Stay safe." She whispered, tilting up Pharah's visor and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
Pharah watched her go, and after a few moments opened a separate channel. "Tracer, how do you feel about hunting down that sniper? I have a hunch who that might be…"
They were making good time, Mercy thought, while scanning the buildings. It was eerie walking through a completely abandoned city. The streets were still full of debris from the heavy fighting during the crisis, but the path they had chosen was a broad boulevard that allowed them to move quickly. There was an occasional burst of gunfire in the distance, often cut short by the loud bang of an explosion, and then silence descended again. The two soldiers accompanying her were uneasy, but she didn't strike up a conversation. Her Russian was limited to a few phrases and questions, mainly revolving around common medical issues, and she didn't want to embarrass them in case their English wasn't up to par, either.
When they came upon a crossroads the lead man raised a fist, signaling them to stop. He slowly approached something that had caught his attention, calling for his comrade to move up. Her curiosity piqued Mercy approached as well, trying to get a good look at what had captured the soldier's attention.
To her horror, she recognized it all too well.
"Get back!" she yelled, but it was too late. At that very moment the device activated, spewing out a cloud of noxious fumes. Her eyes started to water immediately and she stumbled back, trying to get out of the cloud. She heard a metallic clink over her own violent coughs only moments before something solid slammed into her side, digging painfully into her hip; and suddenly she was yanked off her feet. She was dragged over the rubble at an incredible speed, and only stopped when her shoulder slammed into a solid object. She could make out a few blurry shapes before someone punched her in the side of her head and everything went dark.
When she came to, she immediately knew something was very, very wrong. She was lying on cold concrete, and something…something was missing. She cracked open her eyes, wincing briefly at the bright light invading her vision, before things came into focus.
"Oi, mate! I think she's wakin' up."
She recognized that voice.
"Would you look at that." a different, grating voice rasped, and she'd never experienced such absolute dread before. "Sleeping Beauty rouses from her slumber."
"Gabriel?" she whispered, slowly trying to right herself.
"The very same."
A pair of black boots entered her view and she looked up, face to face with her greatest nightmare.
"Why the long face, Ziegler?" he drawled, crouching down. "This is a happy occasion! Well, at least for one of us."
"Wh-what do you want, Gabriel?"
"What do I want?" he asked, rising up and falling into a languid back-and-forth pace before coming to a halt right in front of her again. "Isn't it obvious, doctor? I thought you were a genius, you should have figured this out by now."
The kick came out of nowhere, hard enough to lift her off the ground send her sliding across the floor. Her abdomen exploded with pain, and she was certain something had ruptured. 'Spleen, most likely' her brain unhelpfully supplied.
She suddenly realized she had no input from any of her systems. Her hand shot to her head, but the Reaper saw the gesture.
"Looking for something?" he asked, while pulling something out from the depths of his coat. He was holding her halo. "We're having such a good time, don't we? Wouldn't want any of your friends to interrupt our friendly chat."
No communication. No access to any of her suits non-automated functions. The others couldn't even ping her location.
"No, my dear, I made sure we'd be having all the time in the world."
"When're we gonna get this show on the road, ghost man?" the first voice interrupted, and her gaze zeroed in on the source. It was the maniac they had interrogated in Morocco, standing next to a man who could only be described as humongous.
Reaper had whipped around with a low growl, tendrils of black mist slowly rising from his form, but the lanky figure blathered on completely oblivious.
"Oi, you there, didn't expect the see me again ya? Oh, you shoulda seen the jailbreak, all the explosions-"
He was quite literally cut off when the Reaper suddenly materialized in front of him and closed his hand around his throat.
"Speak one more time and you'll stay with her."
The man uselessly scrabbled at the Reapers arm, desperately gasping for air before the wraith finally let go, turning back to her.
She flopped onto her back, some part of her realizing that her wings should be making her sit upright but there was nothing there; and feebly tried backing away. The Reaper laughed, quickly closing the distance and yanking her off the floor by her arm.
"Leaving so soon? But you haven't seen the main attraction yet!"
He flung her across the floor, her face scraping against the floor but she couldn't brace herself.
'The toxin must still be active in my system.'
"Why are you doing this, Gabriel?!" she asked, not even trying to mask the hysteria that began creeping into her voice.
"Why am I doing this?!" he roared. "You ruined me! Every single day is endless agony because of you!"
"I tried to save you!" she yelled back, heavily leaning on both hands. She knew, logically, that yelling that the Reaper was not a good idea; but logic had fled this situation a long time ago. All she could do was try to stall for time, even a few minutes that might help the others find her. "Had I known about O'Deorain's modifications I could have adapted the caduceus. All of this could have been avoided, but you didn't tell me. You didn't tell anyone!"
He barked out a short, rasping laugh before appearing in a cloud of mist right in front of her and delivering a brutal punch to her face.
"You dare to blame me?!" he roared, punching her again before grabbing her by the hair and pulling her up. "Of course, the great Angela Ziegler couldn't have made a mistake! No, it was everyone else's fault, while she was playing god!"
He was standing at his full height now, keeping her face level with his.
"Behold your creation!"
He took off the mask with his other hand, and what she saw took her breath away. His face was ashen and marred by enormous holes, some even revealing the bone underneath. And before her very eyes, the holes slowly mended themselves while new ones formed in other places; skin slowly sloughing off his face before dissolving into mist that was absorbed by his body.
"Mein Gott…" she whispered, desperately wanting to close her eyes but her body wouldn't obey her.
He suddenly let go and turned sideways, face now obscured by his hood. She tried to brace her fall but her limbs were still sluggish.
"You should have let me die that day, Angela." he said, his voice suddenly much more human. Hope flared in her like fire on dry kindling. "I'd made my peace. I'd done everything I could to make him see reason, and when he refused…I was out of options."
A brief silence descended, and she saw her opportunity. "I can still help you, Gabriel! Come back with me, and I can undo everything that was done to you."
There was a pregnant pause, her plea seemingly echoing through the cavernous hall.
"Just like that?" he finally asked, and with every syllable his rasp gradually returned, with every syllable terror crept into the very essence of her being. He fixed his mask back over his face, and turned around. "You would…undo…everything? Six years of existing in a perpetual state of torture; six years of trying to end it all, and I would come back every time. Just with the snap of a finger, you would…erase it all?"
He slowly walked over to her prone form.
"No, Ziegler. You won't escape this. Everyone has to pay their due, and yours…yours is due today."
In a fluent motion he pulled an enormous shotgun from his cloak, pushed the muzzle into her belly and pulled the trigger before she could even react. The blast tore through her suit like it was made of paper, a sickening spray of red splashing onto her face. For a brief moment she saw nothing but white, and then pain shot through her body like she'd never felt before. A scream tore from her throat that made her own blood curdle; but the pain wouldn't let up.
She tried curling in on herself but any attempt at movement was punished by a sharp spike in her agony, and she briefly wondered just how much she could endure before passing out.
Someone grabbed her face, roughly yanking her off the ground. A whimper was the only reaction she could muster and through the tears her eyes couldn't focus on the white shape vaguely resembling a face in front of her.
"Oh, how I wish we could drag this out just a day or two, but sadly we're out of time. And, who knows…maybe someone will save you like you saved me."
He let go and she fell down, barely registering her skull slamming onto concrete over the searing heat radiating from her abdomen. But the pain was finally diminishing, ever so slightly. She realized that at least some of Valkyrie's systems were still operational, and trying to keep her alive. If the Reaper really did leave now and Overwatch found her quickly enough, she might still have a chance.
She turned her head around and saw him talking to the other two men.
"The detonator is primed? Good. You have one minute to get out."
After that he dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, swiftly moving across the floor and disappearing out the window. And with him, any hope she had left. She wouldn't even make it to the stairwell the two figures were running for.
The first sob surprised her, but it was like a dam breaking. A small, vicious voice in her head told her that he was right. That this was a just punishment for her transgressions. But hadn't she always tried to do the right thing? She'd only ever had one goal in life; to alleviate suffering in whatever way she could. She could've done so much more…
Her thoughts were cut short by a rapid series of explosions and the floor disappearing beneath her. For a brief moment she felt weightless before the ceiling came down and everything went black.
She hurt all over. Her arms, her back, especially her legs… even though the Raptora helped her carry much greater weights than she would've ordinarily been able to (and took a lot of stress and wear off her body), she'd been working tirelessly for over two hours; not to mention the preceding heavy combat.
They all had halted in their efforts for a few minutes, the whole area deathly quiet while everyone listened for signs of life. The longer the silence dragged on, the more it wore on her. She'd barely been able to keep a thin veneer of calmness and professionalism over the rapidly growing panic when they'd first realized what had happened; and every passing moment was slowly chipping away at it.
Fuzzy memories flooded her mind; of the growing unease when they'd realized something was wrong, when neither Mercy nor group three had reported in. She'd gone herself to link up with the Russian soldiers, finding a harried Sergeant trying to organize what was left of his unit.
"No Mercy here!" he'd yelled, "You promise to send Doctor, but Doctor never arrive! I lose five good men because you keep Doctor for yourself!"
It was then that she'd heard the explosions in the distance, Ana reporting from her perch that a parking garage had just collapsed in an area that had been supposedly devoid of any activity.
They'd quickly arrived at the scene, unsure how to proceed, but after Zenyatta had announced that he could sense a human beneath the rubble they'd quickly delved into frenzied action.
The Russians had somehow managed to rustle up heavy equipment; jackhammers, concrete saws, even an old truck with a crane; and quickly gotten to work. Zenyatta had given them the exact location of the life sign he had detected, but even so it was excruciatingly slow work. They had to take every possible precaution to avoid any further collapses, and much of the debris was too heavy even for Reinhardt to move.
And every few minutes they'd stop completely to listen. Zenyatta assured them that whoever was in there was still alive, though in very poor condition; and Fareeha didn't know if she wanted it to be Angela or someone else, because if it wasn't her she was somewhere else and she had no idea if she was alright.
Someone gave an order and the shouting and drilling resumed; and with it she returned to her task, carrying away rubble and helping secure and shoal up areas already excavated. Her rocket boosters had been discarded a while ago, the bulky things only a hindrance in the cramped environment, and she didn't dare to use them for fear of destabilizing any potential pockets of air and causing further collapse. It was taxing work, both physically and mentally. Ever step had to be taken with care, every piece of debris a potential hazard. She was thankful for it, in a way, because it meant her thoughts couldn't wander while she worked, couldn't take her to possibilities and what ifs.
Suddenly there was a commotion a few meters away, soldiers yelling and pointing at something. She made her way over, and saw what had riled them up: a sizable chunk of concrete with blood smeared all over it. The sheer amount of it absolutely terrified her, but she had faith in Zenyatta's reassurances. She had to have faith, otherwise she'd have already given in to utter despair.
A Russian Captain had walked over and harshly ordered his men into complete silence, and that's when they heard it: some faint noise, in a rough rhythm, from below. Immediately she was on her knees, shouting down into the rubble.
"Angela! Do you hear me? Answer, please, do you hear me?!"
She listened again. No voice answered, but there was a brief pause before the sound resumed, faster and more urgent. It was all she'd needed. Like a madwoman she started to move rubble out of the way, as if she could dig a tunnel. It took Reinhardt physically hauling her off her feet and holding her in a tight embrace.
"Patience, child." he murmured, in a voice so soft she'd never heard from him before. "We're almost there, but we need to be careful. Now more than ever."
She struggled for a few moments before she relented, hearing the wisdom in his word. He let her go and she took a step back, surveying the immediate area. A large beam jutted out of the debris vertically a few feet below, but other than that no large pieces were immediately visible. If Angela was trapped in an air pocket they'd have move with extreme caution, lest they inadvertently caused it to collapse. The soldiers went back to work with renewed focus, clearing away small bits of debris in a small radius. After they'd worked down about two feet, the picture became clearer. Two large slabs of reinforced concrete were wedged against one another, propping each other up at a shallow angle. Not knowing how deeply embedded they were, the Russian combat engineers drilled thick bolts into them and fixed them to the crane before they stared clearing smaller detritus.
Finally, a gap opened where one of the slabs rested against the vertical strut, and a voice rang out.
"Fareeha!"
Instantly she was on her knees next to it, peering into the hole but seeing nothing but blackness.
"Angela! Alhamd lilah, you're alive! Are you alright, can you move?" she asked, her relief almost palpable.
Angela's reply was muffled but audible, and the tone unsettled the Egyptian. "Fareeha, how…how long has it been?"
"I don't know, about two hours, a bit more maybe? Are you hurt?"
There was a long moment of silence before she heard some scraping, and saw a hint of movement in the gap. She reached in and felt Angela's fingers brush against her own, quickly closing her own around the Swiss' hand.
"I'm stuck, Fareeha." Angela finally replied weakly, "My legs are…I can't move them."
"Don't worry, habibti." Fareeha answered, "We'll get you out of there in no time and everything will be alright."
The fingers in her hold tensed suddenly and closed in a hard grip, Angela's muffled voice taking on an urgent and imploring tone.
"Fareeha, listen to me. No matter what you do, under no circumstances can you move whatever is keeping my legs pinned! Do you understand?"
Any relief she'd been feeling evaporated upon hearing those words, the quiet desperation laced into them. A memory was skirting around the edges of her thoughts, something she knew was paramount, but refused to be recalled. It only added to the anxious knot in the pit of her stomach.
"I…yes, okay, I'll tell the men. Where…what position are you in now?" she finally replied, trying to rein in her rising unease.
She felt a brief tug on her hand, towards her right.
"I'm almost flat on my back. My head is in the direction I'm pulling your hand."
Fareeha took note of the way the two flat slabs of concrete interlocked, and realized how lucky Angela had been to not be crushed outright. They'd have to dig up or saw off the slabs to get her out.
"Okay," she finally said with a sigh, feeling weariness seep back into her bones. "It's probably gonna take us a while to remove those large pieces. We'll be careful, I promise."
"Please, hurry!" was Angela's parting reply, and the quiet desperation in her voice did nothing to ease Fareeha's worry.
She rose to her feet and quickly flagged down Zarya, quickly relaying what they needed to do, and she translated for the assembled Russian troops. Their captain gave a few orders and the whole group burst into frantic activity. Very soon they determined that both slabs were quite shallow and relatively easy to dig out, and they'd only have to take care not to inadvertently cause any instabilities. The news gave Fareeha a much-needed boost of energy and she went to work, soon forgoing any tools and working with her bare hands. She didn't care if her gloves got damaged. Gloves could be replaced.
It only took them a few minutes to remove enough debris to loosen both slabs. The combat engineers made an additional pass around the area, trying to shoal up and secure any potential hazards, before they started up the crane. They lifted the concrete agonizingly slowly, several men holding on to each piece to avoid them swinging around and potentially hurting Angela.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they swung the whole thing around and Angela was freed from the waist up. Upon seeing the blonde Fareeha could barely hold back her tears. The Valkyrie was completely wrecked on her abdomen and smeared in blood, her whole form covered in a layer of fine dust. Her ghostly pale face had innumerable tiny smudges where sweat had carried away the powder, revealing several small cuts and bruises. And her legs…
'God, it looks like they just…disappear beneath that strut.'
"Fareeha!" Angela called, weakly lifting her shivering hand. The Egyptian was by her side in a heartbeat, gingerly lowering herself into the small indent.
"Angela, ya 'iilhi! You're okay, you're going to be okay!" Fareeha murmured, carefully cupping Angela's cheeks with her hands.
The relief she had expected to see wasn't on Angela's face, though.
"'reeha, did the other Orca come? Did anyone come?!" she asked instead, voice nearly hysterical.
"N-no, no one's come." Fareeha replied, confused, "Why, what's wrong? Angela?!"
Tears had begun streaming down the blonde's face, carrying away more of the dirt. "No, please no, I can't…" she mumbled, before desperately latching her hands onto the Egyptian's armor.
"I can't leave, Fareeha! I'm going to… I can't… God, please no…" she trailed off, sobs shaking her frame. Fareeha did all she could not to give in to panic, but the feeling from earlier was back. She knew she desperately needed to remember something, but it wouldn't come to her.
"No Angela, it'll be fine, we'll free your legs and-"
"No!" Angela yelled, eyes wide open. "You can't! I've been trapped too long, i-if you relieve the pressure I-I'll go into cardiac arrest!"
Suddenly, the memory hit her like a freight train. "Crush syndrome." she murmured, recalling the little girl that had been trapped in the collapsed building in Morocco. She remembered their conversation, what she had suggested back then.
"Could we…" she swallowed around the lump in her throat, "could we amputate your…"
She didn't even finish her sentence when Angela started vehemently shaking her head.
"I'm already going into hypovolemic shock, losing any more blood would only make it worse."
Fareeha paused, thoughts racing furiously. She knew that there was only one possible outcome of this scenario, but stubbornly refused to accept it.
"No, there has to be some other way, Angela!" she demanded, angry tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Think! There must be something we can do!"
"There isn't!" Mercy shouted back before curling in on herself as much as she could. "There's nothing we can do." she whispered, voice quivering.
There was a moment of complete, dreadful silence, before Angela uttered the words that broke Fareeha's heart.
"I don't want to die."
Fareeha didn't know how to answer that. All her words had left her with the choked sob that forced its way out of her throat, and it took all of her willpower not to completely fall apart then and there. So, she did the only thing she could think of.
She gently gathered the blonde into her arms and held her as tightly as she dared, trying to still the sobs quaking through her body.
"I'm so cold," Angela murmured, voice so weak it was barely audible, "it hurts so much."
"Just hang on, habibti. Don't give up." Fareeha replied, trying to blink the tears out of her eyes. Angela's skin had lost all color, making the blood and grime stand out even more starkly.
"I-I'm scared, Fareeha." she whispered, desperately trying to stay awake, the trembling in her arms growing weaker. "Please don't leave me."
The mere thought sent a shudder through the Egyptian's body, making her tighten her hold even more. "Never, habibti." she breathed, voice trembling, "I-I'll always be with you."
Only after a few moments did Fareeha realize that the trembling had stopped. That all motion had stopped.
"Angela?" she asked, not willing to let go. Not willing to look at her, to have to face the unforgiving truth. "Say something, please. Please."
She couldn't take the silence any longer, raising her head to look upon her love's face.
Her eyes were closed, features slack. There was no little smirk playing around her lips, no dimples in her cheeks from smiling too much.
No breathing.
Nothing.
Angela Ziegler was dead.
Under the waning light of a Siberian sunset she clutched the limp body to her chest, uncaring who might watch on as she cried until she had no more tears to give.
Fin
Xxx
You were wrong to trust me with your feelings :3
also, do you guys remember how i joked about not updating for 6 months? like a year ago? yeah, i'm sorry T_T
hani-magic has done an amazing piece to go along with the culmination of this chapter, you can find on hani-magic's tumblr (just add this to the URL) post/177765188984/commission-for-valathes-story-lazarus
So this is it. end of the story. There will be a brief epilogue, but nowhere near as long as this behemoth of a chapter. All it'll do is set up the sequel. Yes, you heard correctly. The sequel. This is now a series. First chapter of the new fic should be out in a few weeks. Stay tuned :B