"What?" Lena asked in disbelief.
"Please, you have to stop me," Angela cried. She hurriedly grasped Lena's hands, and clutched them tightly together in front of her tear-stained face. "I don't know how much longer I can hold out against this… this thing eating away at me."
"Angela, you aren't making any sense," Lena said. She was stunned, incapable of thinking straight. Her head began to burn once more, numbing her senses even further, and she felt reality slip away from her. Nothing seemed real to her anymore, yet the doctor was still there before her, begging her to perform an unspeakable act. And no matter what her mind told her, she would have to face those consequences.
"Look, I know what this sounds like," Angela stated, her body trembling. "And I know that you must think I'm absolutely crazy—"
"This is crazy," Lena said, tugging her hands free. "You disappear for weeks, follow me all the way out here, and instead of turning yourself in to the people that can help you decide to do this?"
"I don't know what else to do. I can't go back to the watchpoint, not after what I've done. Every time I get near them, the urges just get worse. But I can trust you. You know how to stop this. You can—aah!" Angela cried out in agony, and clutched her head tightly, slamming it against the mattress. Lena recoiled in panic, as Emily entered the room, having heard the cries of duress. Lena shooed her away with a flick of the wrist, as she calmly placed a hand on Angela's shoulder.
"Are you okay?" she asked. Angela let out a pained gasp.
"It's happening again. It's getting worse," Angela groaned. "I can't stop it. I can't stop it, I just can't."
"Angela, you need to calm down," Lena said, struggling to follow her own advice. "I understand you're really stressed out right now, but you need to take a breath and relax."
"Relax? I can't relax, I can barely think!" Angela cried. She writhed in anguish on the bed, her eyes shut tightly, and her teeth gritted.
"I know, I know," Lena said, her tone smooth and assuring. "But I think whatever it is Sombra did to you is affecting your head, and the more you panic, the worse it's going to get. So, you need to calm down. Okay, Angela? Do you understand me?"
"I can't… I'm so sorry…" Angela whispered. Her tears stained the mattress as they rolled from her cheeks. Lena was finding it harder than ever to keep her composure. Angela had always been the stronger of the two, always steady in her ways. Seeing her break down so easily was like torment, and Lena knew that she could help, but was not sure how. But she also knew that she couldn't lose Angela to that torment, not at such a desperate time. The doctor was having a very bad couple of weeks, that was all. She needed to remind her of that. She needed to tell her everything would be alright.
"Look at me, look at me," Lena instructed, her voice wavering. When Angela did not oblige, Lena shook her forcefully, and raised her voice as loud as she could. "Hey, look at me!" When the doctor finally gave in and met her gaze, Lena pressed her hand against her cheek, brushing away tears with her thumb. "You are Doctor Angela Ziegler, the most brilliant mind in the entire world, and one of the bravest, generous, and compassionate women I've ever known. You said when you became a doctor, you said your one purpose was to do no harm. Are you going to let yourself break that oath?"
"Lena, I can't—"
"No. No excuses," Lena said, shaking her head. "I know you're afraid of what's going to happen. I'm afraid too; more afraid than I've ever been my whole life. Those visions showed me things I never wanted to see, and I honestly don't know if I can do anything to stop them. But that fear didn't stop me from getting out of bed each morning, putting my gear on, and fighting my ass off trying. I'm not going to let you stop fighting, either. You are strong, so much stronger than you realize. You've been through warzones and burning cities, and I have fought through hell and back with you to make this world a better place. We can beat back those urges in your head together, because as long as I have your back, we are more powerful than anything they can throw at us. So, you are not going to harm anyone. You going to stick by your oath. You are going to rise up, you are going to get better, and right now, you are going to calm the fuck down."
Lena was never one for speeches. She always thought they were hokey, bland, and uninspired. Whenever she and Emily watched a film together, and the protagonist gave a rousing speech to spur his followers into action, she always began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She never understood how a hero could know the precise words to say to inspire others, how they could instantly produce such lofty phrases off the top of their heads. Perhaps her doubt came from the fact that she never thought she was particularly good with words. She could pretty easily come up with a quip or two, but keeping a single train of thought was challenging, and she never believed that she could maintain focus long enough make any comprehensive or meaningful point. She had long accepted that it was her actions that affected others, and her words were empty and better left unspoken.
But as the words finished flowing freely from her tongue, and she took in a breath that had escaped her, she noticed something change in Angela's face. It was subtle, but instantly noticeable: a softening of her gaze, a gentle unfurrowing of her brow, a loosening of her chapped lips. With a shaky hand, Angela brushed the remaining tears out of her eyes, and inhaled deeply, as she slowly steadied herself. The panic subsided, and the color returned to her face. She gently took Lena's hand and pulled it away from her cheek, no longer needing it. Her lips trembled.
"Okay," she said softly. "I t-think I can do that."
Lena breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm… feeling better now, I think," Angela said timidly. Lena gently grasped her shoulder, and guided her downwards, leaning her onto the pillow. The doctor cautiously brought her knees to her chest, taking deep, steady breaths in an unsure attempt to calm her nerves. Emily peered her head into the room, and Lena swiftly jumped to her feet, grabbing her phone by her bedside before ushering the redhead out of the room and closing the door behind them.
"Is everything alright?" Emily asked worriedly.
"Don't worry. I've taken care of it," Lena said hesitantly. She pulled up her phones, quickly rummaging through her list of contacts, brushing her thumbs across the screen, scrolling down to the end of the alphabet.
"If you say so," Emily responded in kind.
"I hope so," Lena clarified. "I'm going to call Winston and have him take her back to the watchpoint. In her condition, it's safer if she's with Overwatch. In the meantime, can you do me a favor and check up on her? See if she needs anything. Say something to keep her mind busy. Anything, really. Just until Winston shows up." Emily nodded, and with a deep breath, marched towards the bedroom. However, before she could take more than two steps, Lena grabbed her arm and pulled her close, lowering her voice. "And one more thing: try to keep your distance. She's a bit on edge at the moment, and the last time we were alone together, she almost strangled me. Just… be careful."
"Gotcha," Emily said understandingly. Lena knew she was asking a lot of her. Neither of them knew how stable Angela was, and it was true that at any given moment, the doctor could snap. But Emily trusted Lena to do the right thing, and when given her orders, she followed them through without hesitation. She simply pecked Lena on the cheek, and disappeared behind closed doors. Lena tried not to worry herself about it too much as she found the gorilla's number and hastily dialed him. Emily would be fine, she told herself. Angela would be fine. Everything would work out. It always did.
When Winston finally picked up the phone, he answered with a jolly laugh. "Oh, she's called back! More questions, I assume?"
"Winston, you have to get over here as fast as possible," Lena said so fast that he could barely understand her.
"Lena, don't worry. Your accelerator isn't shutting down—"
"This has nothing to do with that," said Lena, panic-stricken. "Angela's here."
"Angela? Our Angela?" Winston stammered. His jovial tone faltered, and a primal noise escaped his throat as he huffed in confusion. "She's in London? How did she get to London? What is she doing there?"
"I don't know, but she just knocked on my door, and now she's in my bedroom, crying and holding her head like she's in a lot of pain. She's really freaked out, Winston. I don't know what to do."
"Lena, slow down," Winston grunted. "Let's take this one thing at a time. Angela literally just showed up at your doorstep? When?"
"I don't know. Ten minutes ago? It was right after we finished talking."
"And do you know why she showed up?"
"I don't really think this is important right now, Winston. She's hurt pretty badly."
"I know, I know," he insisted. "I'm simply trying to figure this out."
"You can figure it out when you get here. I'm more concerned with keeping her safe. She kept saying that she felt like she was about to hurt people, and she was talking about killing herself earlier. And she said she wanted me to it. What am I even supposed to say to that?"
"Angela will be fine. I'm sure she doesn't mean it."
"I don't want to take that chance," Lena exclaimed. "That's why it's important that you get here. You need to stop her before she hurts herself."
"Yes, yes, I'll be there," Winston stated, "but something doesn't seem right. Did she say why she came to you?"
"I told you already," Lena said, frustrated. "She wanted me to help her end her life. I can't imagine why she would ever think I would even consider that…"
"She asked you directly? And that was her exact reason for seeing you?"
"I guess? What's your point?"
"My point is that Angela should have no idea that you were even there to begin with," Winston explained nervously. "When she vanished from the watchpoint, you were still missing, and she would have no reason to suspect that you returned to London. Yet, she seemingly knew exactly where you were and how to reach you, despite there being no possible way she could have found out?"
Lena opened her mouth to get a word in, but as the thought simmered, she suddenly went quiet. She took a seat on the sofa, as Emily tiptoed back into the main room, temporarily escaping the crying medic.
"What are you saying? That she's been spying on us?" Lena asked.
"What's this about spying?" Emily asked curiously, swiftly moving to Lena's side. The injured woman shushed her, and pressed the phone more firmly against her ear.
"Not necessarily," Winston clarified. "But the fact is that she knows something she shouldn't, and since she's not willing to tell you, it means that there might be trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Lena asked with a grunt, as Emily leaned against her, forcing herself into the conversation.
"Hey, if Lena's going back into harm's way, you can at least tell me about it," Emily protested. Lena tried shoving her away, but could barely muster up the force to move the taller woman an inch. Still, the redhead relented, and backed away into the center of the room. "Fine. Keep me out of it. Angela's feeling fine, by the way."
"Thank you, Em. But I really need to pay attention to this now," Lena groaned. Emily rolled her eyes.
"Hey, don't get mad that I'm lookin' after you. Somebody has to," Emily stated. "Is it really too much to ask that I get a little—"
And then, all of a sudden, time seemed to stall, as before Emily could finish her sentence, the center window broke with a tremendous crash, and a bullet tore through her shoulder.
Lena's senses were delayed, and when they returned, they carried every lingering sensation with them. The pitter-patter of shattered glass striking the floor. A splash of red blood flying freely through the air. A horrified, pained screech, and the solid thud of a damaged body striking the hard floor. The senses took several seconds to register with her mind, and even when they did, she could do nothing but sit and watch in stunned silence as her girlfriend writhed on the floor in a rapidly forming pool of blood, her face contorted in agony. When the shock finally wore off, her body simply moved on its own. She sprang to her feet and reached out, dropping the phone and letting out a horrified cry.
"Em! What happ—"
The second bullet struck just as fast, clipping through her outstretched forearm. She retracted her arm instinctively, but could not maintain control as the pain pumped its way through her body. She lost her balance and collapsed to her knees, her good arm resting along the side of the couch for support. Her mind kicked into survival mode, and she immediately began searching the area for somewhere to hide. She looked out at Emily in the center of the room, only a few feet away but forever out of reach. She knew needed to move quickly, but the attacker had her pinned down beneath the side of the couch, and she was wounded enough as it was. Winston called out to her from over the phone, but she could not hear anything but the sound of her heart racing in her ears. She reached out guardedly towards her girlfriend, but a third shot ricocheted by her, narrowly missing her hand, and she tucked back into safety.
"Emily! Hold on!" Lena shouted fearfully. The redhead rolled on the ground, a crude moan escaping from her lips. She stared at Lena with tired, bloodshot eyes, either not understanding where she was or what she was supposed to do. She was losing blood. A lot of it. Too much of it. Lena needed to do something. She needed to think. She needed to act.
But, unfortunately for her, she never had the chance, as the main door was suddenly and forcefully kicked down, and three men in full body armor rushed into the apartment, assault rifles aimed at her. She recoiled, frozen in fear, but they did not fire. Instead, they surrounded the pair, holding her at bay while one of them violently grabbed Emily by the arm. Lena flinched, wanting to lunge forward and take the soldier down, but knew that if she moved at all, she would be put down. Using her accelerator was not an option. She was powerless. When the shadow moved through the door, and the black matter materialized in the center of the room, taking the shape of a towering, deathly figure, Lena felt like the situation could not get much worse. He surveyed the room, and looked out the window at an unseen figure, nodding approvingly. Then, he turned to the door, and Lena was proven wrong yet again.
As she strolled confidently into the room, the first thing Lena noticed about her was her smile, soft and coy, derived not from amusement or achievement, but pure satisfaction of how things had gone her way. She looked no different than the last time they had met, still dressed in bright neon clothes and bathed in technology. Only her eyes were any different, reveling in the disaster she caused. But, as they studied Lena's pained face, and Emily's bloodstained physique, those same eyes lit up with desire, and her wicked smirk only grew.
"Well, that went swimmingly," Sombra said with a small laugh. She placed her hands on her hips and sauntered around the room, staring longingly at the decor. "These Talon guys sure know what they are doing, huh? Nice place you got here, by the way. Very modern. Fetching, might I add?" Lena remained quiet as the hacker wandered confidently the circumference of the room, as if it was her own home, and the others were not being held at gunpoint.
"The doctor is in the other room, my goddess," Reaper grunted. "Should I get her?"
"Sure thing, dear," Sombra said with a shrug. The shadow nodded, and hovered towards the bedroom, leaving a thick trail of smoke in his wake. Sombra waltzed over to Lena and knelt downwards, meeting her face-to-face. "Isn't this absolutely wonderful, Lena Oxton? All my life, I've wished that people would listen to me, and treat me with the respect I deserve. And now, not only do I have a whole army by my side, but my two very own walking, living weapons. A girl really can do anything she puts her mind to, am I right?"
"H-how… how did you find me?" asked Lena. Sombra laughed, and jutted a single finger into the cold steel of her accelerator.
"With this little thing, chica!" she said matter-of-factly. "Did you really think I would go through all the effort of hacking this beauty without bothering to put a tracker inside of it? Please. I'm not an amateur."
A high-pitched scream echoed from down the hall, and Sombra groaned disappointedly.
"Dammit, that woman is giving me more trouble than she's worth," she muttered to herself, uncaring of who heard her. "That knock on the head must have screwed up her reception more than I thought. I'll have to modify that later."
It was only then that the hacker noticed the phone, still lying on the ground, a faint voice pleading from within. Without a second of hesitation, she snatched it from the floor and brought it to her ear.
"Lena, are you okay? What's going on? Answer me!"
"Oh, sorry," Sombra said mockingly. "Lena isn't available to talk right now. If you want, I can leave a message."
"Who is this? Where's Lena?"
"Don't worry. She's just fine. Can't say the same for her friend here. She's bleeding pretty badly. She might not make it," Sombra taunted. Lena tried to shout for help, but the hacker pressed a single, metallic finger to her lips, silencing her. "That being said, I can't really guarantee either of their safety. My friends want to see someone get killed, and I might just get bored enough to indulge them. Tell you what: If you bring your entire crew of freaks to London in the next two hours, I won't splatter her brains all over this nice furniture. Deal? Deal. Bueno, voy a divertirme con estas chicas bonitas. Adios, cabrón."
Sombra hung up the phone without remorse, and sighed. She looked down at Lena like a hungry cat watching its prey.
"Well, you have about two hours to live," she said calmly. "How do you want us to spend them?"