Ana gloomily stared out the window of her room, arms crossed, thinking quietly as Reinhardt pushed the door closed with his foot, his arms fully loaded with what few pieces of luggage that the two had brought with them. They were to return to active duty, now that their time off had expired- spent mostly together in Egypt- and with Overwatch HQ still being considered for reconstruction in Switzerland, Gibraltar served as a de facto headquarters for everyone.

Still, Ana had had a lot on her mind since the two had shown up and she'd confronted the younger agents fighting in the gym, her daughter being a participant no less. The older woman's lips grimaced in a particularly undesirable thought, but she turned around with a relieving sigh as she walked toward the bed to help the large crusader unpack their belongings.

"Ah ha!" Reinhardt shouted gleefully, pulling out a small bust of some ancient Roman general whom he'd admired since childhood, "Wouldn't be home without my bronze!"

He chuckled as he placed it on top of a nearby dresser, turning back just as Ana was quietly removing stacks of clothing from her suitcase, organizing it atop the bed. Reinhardt mumbled affectionate as he approached her, wrapping a massive arm around her body and pulling her into his body as he approached her.

"Now, now; what ails you, my adenium? My bones may be failing me, but my eyes certainly are not. I can see your sadness, and I would not be such a man as to see you like this and leave you be!" he spoke up in clunky eloquence.

Ana sighed, leaning her head against his broad chest, speaking wistfully, "Why did we come back to this?"

Reinhardt thought for a moment, though wasn't sure of how serious the question was, "Well, uh… I mean, we received the recall signal. I figured you were excited to fight alongside your daughter for peace; I know I've long relished the idea of seeing the daughter of Amari controlling the battlefield!"

His body shook triumphantly, though his words only led to a soft groan from Ana, who looked up toward him, "I know, but… Shouldn't we be leaving this to them?"

"Them?" Reinhardt wondered aloud, though quickly realized the source of his lover's concern, hurrying to pull her closer into a hug, "Now listen here, Amari; I remember the very first day we all assembled for the very first meeting of Overwatch, and an angel named Ana Amari walked in, looking like the whole room belonged to her. Every day I laid my eyes on you, you've only grown more beautiful, and no matter how grey your hair gets, no matter how many wrinkles, no matter how many eyes you have, for that matter-"

He grinned, holding her tighter, "You still only grow more strong, more beautiful, more resilient. These kids, they don't know their way from a hole in the ground- the only thing keeping any of them in alive and in line are us old timers, so don't think you're being outgrown at all; you're the only thing between order and chaos around here. You saw how they had resorted to turning on one another until you popped in!"

"Weren't you a spectator?" Ana asked, dryly, giving Reinhardt a nervous stare out the window.

She sighed, enjoying the large embrace of her lover, "I suppose you're right, though."

"That's my lieutenant," Reinhardt smiled approvingly, pulling away as he returned to organizing their things.

Ana did much the same, albeit still quietly. Her slow movements meant she was still thinking on something, despite Reinhardt's kind words, though she picked up her pace slightly, if only to convey that he had, indeed, cheered her up, not wanting him to feel a lack of worth.

"Did you remember to bring your picture frame?" Reinhardt asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Ana answered, pulling over another bag and pulling out a digital frame, turning it on so the dark screen suddenly lit up with a picture of herself and Fareeha when she was younger, "And I remembered my hair beads as well. Oh, and your cologne, since I knew you'd forget that."

She grinned as she rummaged through her backpack, pausing as she stared deeply into the leather sack, pulling out a finely silken hair ribbon, "Well, I never figured this would see this place again."

Reinhardt chuckled heartily at the sigh, "You still have that thing, eh?"

"Well, somebody I cared very much about once said that, if I were to be a killer, it wouldn't hurt to be beautiful at the same time."

"You're totally paraphrasing," Reinhardt answered with a groan, a knock on the door causing him to turn away, "Oh, and Dr. Ziegler is here for a quick, informal exam."

Ana nodded, hurriedly burying the ribbon back into her bag as the door opened to reveal Angela standing there, her face lost in a clipboard as her hand clutched a pen that rested against her lips as she thought, her eyes suddenly jumping up as she noticed Reinhardt standing there, having materialized in place of the door.

"Wilhelm," she muttered, bluntly.

"Ziegler."

"How many joints will I have to adjust today?"

Wilhelm suddenly laughed, exiting their faux-confrontational dialogue, giving even Angela a chance to smile as he went on, "I've been a good boy! Promise! I may let slip a fib or two, but my joints do not partake in such things!"

He stretched out his arms, almost making his chest appear to expand as he flexed easily, twisting his torso freely as he did, a grin crossing his face, "See?"

"Good," Angela spoke up, evenly, "Now quit it before you turn your joints into liars. Like I said, this is very informal; it's more of an excuse to come by and say hello to my teddy bear."

Reinhardt fawned over the doctor, giving her a warm hug, "Aww, you flatter me too greatly, my dear."

Angela's eyes caught Ana's, whose stare was rather piercing, "That's much more than I'm sure I'll be able to say about the good doctor."

She managed a quick smile as Angela rolled her eyes, pulling away from the large man, "Oh, hush. I need to offer you three compliments to break my record, and I intend to do so, if only because Fareeha offered me another trip up the mountain were I to do so. SO!"

She ended with a shout before inhaling deeply, as if having to prepare mightily, "Your choice of clothing is very eclectic."

Ana critiqued her through a stare, "Was that a compliment?"

Groaning, Angela dropped her shoulders as she approached the sniper, "Fine, fine; still at zero. Just let me-"

Ana recoiled as Angela reached up toward her face, the matriarch staring back at the doctor in shock, "Wh-What are you doing?!"

Angela watched her, confused,"…I'm giving you an informal exam?"

Anna rushed a finger toward Reinhardt, "You gave HIM a hug!"

The doctor nodded, "And I checked his ribs as I did so. What, should I give you a facial while I examine your eyes?"

Ana sighed heavily, looking away, "…fine, just- Make it quick."

Reinhardt looked on, worriedly, though also with a curiosity as Angela reached up to pull away the dark piece that covered Ana's right eye or, at least, where her eye had been. Ana wore a sort of scowl the entire time, even Reinhardt knowing for years how difficult it was for the woman to show any sort of weakness. Angela understood as well, trying to be as professional and quick as she could, carefully returning the eye patch back across that empty cavity in her face.

"No infections; nothing that looks bad," Angela noted, plainly, "You haven't been on a major assignment since that incident; how is your sight?"

"Perfect," Ana replied dryly, already tired of being interrogated by a junior, even if it was the partner of her daughter.

Angela watched her suspiciously, "You know I'm only asking for your own-"

"It's perfect," Ana interrupted, roughly.

Angela continued to eye her suspiciously, though decided to end the impromptu exam anyway, pulling her clipboard to her chest, "Then you won't have any problem with your assigned training regiment to see where everybody is since last we were together."

Angela turned around smoothly, heading to the door, "I'll make sure to schedule you in before Torby arrives. I wouldn't want you to be distracted."

Ana found it difficult to hold her tongue, but ultimately did so, exhaling a groan as the door shut behind the doctor, her arms clawing at her scalp, frustrated, "I swear to god, that girl…"

Quickly, Reinhardt took to her side, gently patting her shoulder, "Now now, she really is only-"

"I know she's only looking out for me," Ana growled, bowing her head, eyes closed, as she punched herself in the leg as if in penance, "But this time she's going to win."

"What?"

She groaned, looking up toward the light of her life's face, "Sweetheart, my vision's been going for months now. I wouldn't expect Ziegler to realize that herself, but it will indeed show out on the shooting range. My technique is all off without my eye as well; basically, I'm screwed as far as sharpshooting goes."

"Ahh," Reinhardt mused, lightly, smiling as he took Ana into a hug, "No wonder you're so insecure about all these young people. So worried that they're taking your place. But I must tell you, there is nowhere else in this lion's heart for anyone but you, my dear."

Ana eyed him, unamusedly, "That makes two things I only allow you to talk to me about- love and my insecurities."

Reinhardt smiled, warmly, giving a soft hum from within him, only comforting Ana further with the gentle vibration and heat from him, his voice suddenly emerging again, curiously, "Why was she so specific about Torb, anyway?"

"Because," Ana smirked, "He'd help me cheat. We old hags have to stick together. Uh, to borrow Dr. Ziegler's own words, that is."


A loud buzzer rang out across the shooting range as a paper target began zooming down the lines, coming to a stop at a lengthy distance from Ana Amari, her stare peering farther than even the target, as if she were peering past the very wall behind it. She stood in one of the stalls, slowly lowing her head as she fiddled with her rifle, seriously, making sure each mechanism was perfect.

Above her, through a large pane of glass, stood Reinhardt and Angela, watching her from the control room as Winston playfully jerked his head back in forth in time with the music playing in the background. His fingers rapidly shot across his keyboard, eyeing the two guests as he calculated.

"How's she looking?"

Angela turned to Reinhardt, biting her lip, while he waved her off with a smile, "Go on. I'm an adult, you know."

The doctor sighed, turning to Winston, "Uh, I'm concerned about her sight, her physical capabilities. I mean, normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but if she has issues with her sight, she'd be expected to run around more than she's ever been accustomed to."

Winston nodded, "Understood. Hopefully this test will shed some light on the situation. God knows I don't want to have to tell her to take a step back."

He shivered uncontrollably at the thought, quickly returning to his computer as his eyes peered up toward the monitor which looked down on the sniper. She was done with assembling her rifle, now shoving the clip of ammunition into the device, kneeling down as she propped herself up on the small counter of the stall. She shoved the butt of the gun into her right shoulder, lowing her head toward the scope, suddenly pausing as she did so.

"Oh, fuck," Angela muttered, realizing that she'd forgotten that she was right handed.

Ana remained still for a moment, as if just now realizing, herself, that her right eye was non-existent now. She shut her eye, praying that there wasn't a camera to catch her as her tongue slipped across her lips, nervously. Upon reopening, her head tilted further away, dipping her shoulders lower so that her left eye could stare down the scope, albeit while shooting as far left as it could out of her skull.

Reinhardt nodded supportingly as he watched her, Ana's tenacity being one of the things that first brought him to admire her. He slowly leaned to his side, toward Angela, asking with a quiet, confident voice.

"Think she can do it?"

Angela shrugged, "We'll check the targets."

Suddenly, a loud *BOOM* broke the air, followed immediately by Ana shooting up to her feet, grasping her rifle with both hands and raising it above her head, suddenly slamming it into the counter with a massive *CRASH*. She leaned over the wooden counter, her hands still grasping the rifle, the weight of her body crushing her fingers between the weapon and counter as punishment.

She reached up, grabbing at her eye patch and pulling it down her face so that it hung only around her neck as her head dangled before her, the lightest bit of tears falling from her face as her teeth clenched in frustration.

"Wide right," Winston noted, sadly, respectfully turning away from the monitor, "Angela?"

The doctor didn't take her eyes off of her, though she remained silent as her eyes narrowed, seriously, as Reinhardt spoke up, "Poor thing…"

Angela shook her head at his statement, tossing her clipboard to the floor as she crossed her arms, "No, let her go again."

Winston eyed the monitor, "Angela, she's not going to go-"

"She will," she interrupted, unwaveringly, as her eyes shrunk even further, "…she will."

The three watched Ana as she remained standing there, finally releasing her grip from the rifle. It made the last bit of distance to the counter with a small thud as Ana ran her hands through her hair, sighing deeply as her eyes caught the target down the length of the range. Her depth perception was shot, she knew, though as long as it was through the scope, she had always thought, it wouldn't have mattered- she always used a single eye anyway. Just the other one.

She slowly dropped down to one knee again, grasping her rifle and digging it, once again, into her right shoulder. Her head lowered, tilted; her eye ran as far to the left as it could out of its socket, her head adjusting just enough to give her some more clearance down the length of the scope. Her lips pursed in anger as they crushed together, her breath suddenly shooting inward as her finger slammed backward against the trigger, a massive *BANG* cracking through the air.

Reinhardt turned toward Winston, his face suddenly sinking as a frown appeared, his head shaking slowly, "That's the way it goes, I guess."

Angela stared down toward Ana, who had slowly risen to her feet, grasping at her rifle before tossing it to the ground as if disowning it. She turned toward the after-action room, her gait as normal as ever, as if nothing was wrong. Even without being down there with her, Angela knew that her insides were tearing apart at the result.

"It was closer that time," Winston noted, "Perhaps if she keeps at it. Just by watching, I can tell it's not easy."

Ana disappeared into the chamber, the door closing behind her, obscuring her to everyone, save for a monitor above that showed her sitting down, holding her hands over her head as it hung low between her knees.

"I'll go get her," Angela volunteered, patting Reinhardt's shoulder, "Don't worry; I'll go easy on her."

Reinhardt only gave a weak smile.


Ana wanted to crawl into a hole at that point. Well, considering the doctor who was evaluating her, she more wanted to crawl into the arms of her man, but she knew that was a tall order. As soon as those doors opened, she figured Angela would be on the other side, already, prepared to give her some seethingly sarcastic quip or something- anything to stick a verbal dagger into her after that performance.

Sure enough, she didn't even to raise her head. As soon as the door opened, she say the silhouette of Angela stretching across the floor as the doctor stood at the door, frowning sadly as she watched the older woman sitting there as if wholly lost. She carefully made her way into the room, over toward Ana, though slowly stopped to ask.

"Do I, uh, sit beside you, or..?" she wondered aloud, nervously.

Ana's finger jutted out toward the bench across from her, which gave Angela as nod, "Gotcha."

She sat across from her, grasping her hands together as she'd left her clipboard behind. She watched Ana's head, defeated, as it surrendered to the very gravity that surrounded her. Her lips pulled inward as she thought of what to say, though Ana was the first to speak up, surprisingly.

"I didn't want to come back," she muttered, ashamedly, "I knew this would happen, but… That poor man; I knew it would break his heart."

She sighed, shaking her head, "I spent so many years living with only my daughter in mind; I forgot how it was to do the same for somebody who isn't your own blood. It's easy if you love them, but damn, does it ever sting sometimes."

Angela lowered her head, respectfully, as Ana pressed onward, "I shouldn't be here."

Slowly, Angela pushed herself up to her feet, spinning around as she backed toward Ana, sitting beside her, allowing the sniper a rather pithy attempt at speaking up, "And you shouldn't be here, beside me."

"Oh hush," Angela muttered, scolding, though she gave the woman a soft pat atop the shoulder, "Look, I understand what you're saying, but you're not as helpless as you make it seem. If you were, you wouldn't have taken that second shot."

Ana remained silent as Angela sighed, reloading her thoughts, "I get that you feel like you can't contribute anything, but even if your skills with the rifle were no longer with you, which, by the way, I don't think is true, you have far more to contribute than you think."

"Look," Angela repeated, slowly, "I didn't want to come back either. Granted, it wasn't because I was too old and senile, with zero taste in doctors, but I felt as though it was worthless to be here. After all, as you reminded me so very often, what good is a person who won't fire a gun in an organization where guns are one of its languages? And look, I'm not saying to force yourself to be here if it's going to be miserable, but…maybe give it a week. I did, and I-"

"Got with my daughter," Ana muttered, glibly, looking up toward Angela with a sidelong glare, "Yes, I remember."

Angela groaned, "Hey, you already got that out of the way, even! You have Reinhardt! If not for me, which I know it a moot point, then for him, okay? For your daughter, too; I know she loves having you here when you're not drilling her on push-ups."

Ana groaned, leaning back in her seat, "Alright, Ziegler. One week. If my body is still as decrepit, I'm on my first flight back to Palookaville; no question."

Angela raised her hands in the air, innocently, "That's all I'm asking."

Frowning, Ana eyed Angela skeptically, "Why the interest? This is quite the attempt at flying above your station, Ziegler; just because of my daughter."

Angela shrugged, "Contrary to your old mind's belief, I don't actually hate you, you know."

She reached down into her shirt, pulling out a necklace, running her fingers down the links before grasping the small symbol at its bottom, pulling it up for the two to see, her voice appearing, sarcastically, "'Protection in peace'. 'Peace', you say? Why, that was one of those ideas that Ziegler bitch was constantly spouting off about!"

Ana smirked at the doctor's attitude, "Well, you got me. Not the only reason I wasn't exactly thrilled that you were with my daughter, but it was pretty high up there."

Angela gave her a friendly pat on the back as she smiled, "Don't worry; I'll shoot a gun or something to make it up to you, I suppose. I kind of like the idea of running around, pell-mell, worrying more about raising more hell than allies."

"Even I know that doesn't suit you," Ana shook her head, disappointingly.