as promised, (finally) the epilogue to Lazarus.
songs of the day: land by time to burn, and needles in your skin by oathbreaker
The thing that unsettled her the most was the silence. Even in this reincarnation of Overwatch which consisted of barely more than thirty operatives and support personnel, there was always activity around the Watchpoint. At any given point there would be someone repairing their equipment, or hitting the gym, or causing some kind of ruckus in the common room.
Since their return from Krasnoyarsk, though, an almost deathly quiet had descended. It was as if the building itself was mourning, too, and allowed no noise to penetrate the walls. Ana was used to grief, she could almost say it was an old companion at this point. But this was something else entirely. She realized that the organization might not recover from the blow they had been dealt.
As if to prove her point Hana walked into the kitchen, shoulders slumped and none of her usual spring in her step. She didn't even acknowledge the sniper's presence, quickly averting her gaze when their eyes met, and quietly dug through the fridge for some kimchi before slinking off again.
Ana sighed, pushing away her almost full plate of koshari. What little appetite she'd had was gone. Instead she grabbed the second plate resting on the counter, wrapped in aluminium foil and still nice and warm, and embarked on the trek that was quickly becoming painfully familiar.
She knocked on Fareeha's door, plate in hand, and waited. Like every day she waited, quietly, hoping that this time the door would finally open for her. But, like every day, it remained closed. Like every day, her heart became heavier. She could only imagine the pain her daughter was going through, and wanted nothing more than to be there for her. But she couldn't. She might've called it karmic punishment, if she believed in such things, for abandoning Fareeha for all those years. To be forced to sit by and watch as she suffered.
She sighed after a few minutes of silence, deposited the plate in front of the door and quietly walking off, heading for her own room. Like every day, she would ask Athena about Agent Amari, and like every day she'd receive the same answer. "All parameters well within acceptable limits. No direct observation possible in private quarters."
This time, though, before she could voice her question to the base AI, something else caught her attention. A slowly blinking light, reflected off the wall in the corner where her cot stood. She approached warily, until she recognized the source. A phone, positively ancient, half-tucked under the pillow. Her old emergency number.
Only three people in the world knew about this number, and two of those were in this very building. And the third…
'No', she thought, 'he doesn't know. He still thinks I'm dead.'
But when she turned on the display and saw the number, she almost dropped the phone.
+1-250-555-0182
She knew that number. She knew where the call came from. Queen Charlotte City, Haida Gwaii, British Columbia. Canada.
The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. 'Fareeha must have told him! But…why didn't he…'
She quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts. Idle speculation would lead her nowhere, and she knew he would've had a very good reason not to initiate contact until now. She focused on the screen again and, after a brief moment of hesitation, hit the green Dial button. It took a while for the call to connect, but eventually she heard the rings go through. Until they stopped.
"Hello?"
Suddenly her throat felt tight, and any words she had prepared died on her tongue. How could she tell the father of her only child that she'd been alive all those years?
"Whoever you are, however you got a hold of that ph-"
"Sam?" she finally asked, interrupting him.
There was a brief moment of silence, then: "How did we first meet?"
At that, she had to chuckle. "We were trapped in a supermarket in Geneva during a freak snowstorm in April."
"So it really is you." Sam said, again after a brief pause. "I wasn't sure if you still used this number."
"Well, you know…something about old habits and…." She trailed off, not finishing the phrase. Even she realized how inappropriate saying those words was right then. Sam was quiet again, and this awkwardness hit her hard. Even if they hadn't separated on the best of terms, they'd still been able to hold a conversation before…before.
He sighed, finally speaking up again. "How is she?"
And there it was. The huge elephant in the room.
"You heard about it?" Ana asked, trying to buy some more to time to get her thoughts in order.
"How could I not have?" Sam replied, a bit befuddled. "The media is going crazy, it's the only thing anyone in front of a camera's been talking about for the last three days."
She had to clench her teeth at the thought of those vultures. "She deserved better." she mumbled, more to herself.
"She did." Sam answered, regardless. "But you still haven't answered my question."
Ana sighed, hanging her head.
"I don't know." she finally said, truthfully. "She refuses to see anyone, speak to anyone. Even you, it seems. Athena tells me that physically she's fine, but…" She paused for a moment. "I can't get through to her."
The line was silent for a while, and Ana started wondering if he'd hung up when she heard his voice again.
"She's strong, Ana, she'll get through this. But she'll need your help. Be her mother before anything else, for once."
She bristled at his words but bit down the harsh reply already sitting on the tip of her tongue, because he was right. She loved Fareeha more than anything else in the world, but she hadn't been a mother to her for the longest time.
She forced herself to calm down with a sigh. "I will, Sam. Thank you. For calling, for…for being there for her when I wasn't. I'll let you know if anything changes."
"Háw'aa, Ana. And, despite everything…it was nice hearing from you again."
Before she could reply he'd hung up, leaving her standing alone in her darkened room.
"…still more questions than answers surrounding the death of noted philanthropist and medical prodigy Angela Ziegler after eight days. The Russian government confirmed she was part of a group of 'external advisers' taking part in an anti-terror operation of the Russian armed forces in the Krasnoyarsk Exclusion Zone, but the office of President Budanova has declined any further comments on the situation. Rumors place several notable-"
The newscaster was cut off when Lúcio changed the channel, the screen now showing some TV chef demonstrating how to properly scale a fish. None of the people in the common room were big fans of cooking shows, but it beat the constant onslaught on the news channels.
Ana was grateful for the reprieve while she continued to listlessly stir the oatmeal in her bowl without actually eating it. She was torn from her thoughts when the speakers crackled to life.
"Strike-Captain Amari"
"Yes, Athena?" she replied disinterestedly.
"You asked me to notify you of any changes in the recent behavior of Agent Amari."
Suddenly all eyes were glued to the ceiling.
"Agent Amari has left her quarters and is currently engaged in what appears to be maintenance of her equipment in the armory. Would you like me contact her for you?"
By the time the AI had finished the sentence Ana was already out of the room and flat-out running down the corridors. It took her five minutes to reach the reinforced doors to the armory, impatiently shoving her hand at the palm-print reader.
She was almost overwhelmed by the acrid stench permeating the spacious armory, despite the ventilation system working on maximum capacity, and the source became obvious once she rounded the corner.
Fareeha had the individual pieces of her Raptora suit laid out, some parts taped off, while deliberately going over every inch of exposed armor with an airbrush gun.
Ana quickly covered her mouth and nose with a piece of cloth and approached her daughter almost hesitantly. She had no idea how to proceed.
"Fareeha." she finally said, louder than she wanted, to be heard over the noise of the ventilation.
The younger Amari set the airbrush gun aside and turned around, pulling the respirator from her face and pushing the goggles onto her head.
"Hello, mother." she said, voice completely devoid of any inflection. Ana finally got a good glimpse of the pieces of armor strewn about, and saw that Fareeha was in the process of painting them all pitch black.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Ana asked, taken aback.
"Preparing." came the simple reply, again with barely any intonation. "Could you please tell everyone to assemble in the situation room in three hours?"
Ana was about to inquire further when Fareeha pulled down the goggles again, and in the split-second before her daughter's eyes were covered, she saw something in them that sent chills into to her very bones: hatred.
Fareeha turned around again, grabbing the airbrush gun and, pausing while raising the respirator to her face, said: "We have work to do."
when will i learn not to promise future updates within a reasonable timespan T_T
anyway, this is the end to our little ride of misery and despair. trusting me with your feelings was a mistake. however, a sequel is already in the works, as announced. the reason the epilogue is only going up now is that i wanted to have a few chapters of that ready to go by the time i post this chapter. that hasn't happened, unfortunately, and i have no firm ETA on when the sequel will go live. probably (hopefully) at some point before 2020 _
anyway, thanks for sticking with me for this one. this fic evolved from a 'hey wouldn't it be cool if' plot bunny into something else entirely, and i have great plans for this timeline i've established. stay tuned for more.
cheers