The sound of her name did not wake her so much as the chilly touch on the side of her neck. Jerking away from the contact, Fareeha forced her eyes open with difficulty, blinking hard until the blurred vision of Angela's office came into focus. She grunted, shimmying up the couch to rest her shoulders on the armrest. The touch from before landed on her clothed shoulder this time, drawing her attention towards the doctor.
"Go back to your room, Fareeha. It will be more comfortable there," Angela said softly.
Her tongue curled into a 'no' before Angela even finished speaking. But she kept quiet, pushing herself upright to face the doctor proper. Angela did not look all that sharp herself, truth be told. She had spent too many hours buried in her research and it showed. Her eyes were dull, shoulders slumped, stray blonde strands hanging every which way on her head.
"What time is it?" Fareeha muttered, squinting at the wall clock through lukewarm lighting.
"Nearing 3."
She sighed, "You're not sleeping tonight, are you?" It was phrased as a question, but they both knew it was a statement of fact. Too many times had they gone through this ritual. The way it ended would vary depending on Fareeha's level of energy, and she had little left after returning from a mission just that evening. It seemed the doctor had the upper hand this time.
Angela wheeled her chair closer and placed her fingers on Fareeha's jaw, waking her further with the coldness of her skin.
"That doesn't mean you have to stay here. Go and sleep, alright? I'll meet you for breakfast later."
A reluctant agreement sat right behind her teeth. But before Fareeha could vocalise it, rapid beeping from Angela's computer caught their attention. The blonde's forehead crinkled in confusion as she wheeled her chair back to the table. Fareeha followed, standing behind her to see an emergency transmission from…Tracer? Odd. There were no active assignments right now. Angela accepted the hail.
"Doc?" Tracer sounded hushed and out of breath.
"Lena?" Angela used her real name, aware of their deployment status as well. "Why are you using the emergency channel?"
"Because it's an emergency?" she replied, anxiety in her voice becoming more apparent with each syllable. "Just to confirm, you're bound by the Hippocratic Oath, right? Help anyone in need, something like that?"
"Not exactly 'bound', but yes. Are you hurt, Lena?"
"No. Well, yes. But there's someone else." There was a slight pause as Lena grunted, followed by sounds of something being shifted in the background. She took another few pants and continued, "You're in your office, right?"
"Yes."
"Mind opening your windows? I'm coming through there."
"Why can't you just come through the med bay?"
"I don't want to be seen. Please, Angie. Do this for me."
Angela hesitated, before looking back at Fareeha. The Egyptian nodded and opened the windows as requested, letting the cool night breeze mix with artificial air conditioning. Leaning out, Fareeha kept her eyes peeled for Lena.
"Okay, I'm coming around. Promise you won't freak out, alright?"
"Lena, what is happening?"
But there was no answer. It was not needed, for Lena finally turned the corner of the building. When she stepped into the light spilling out of Angela's office, Fareeha identified the source of the Brit's distress and felt her heart plummet through the floor. She froze in place, watching Lena struggle with the inert body slung over her shoulders, taking one arduous step after another. Both of them wore visible wounds, with blood trailing down their skin and staining their clothes.
"Angela," Fareeha called the doctor over, voice distant. She could not take her eyes off the familiar blue-skinned woman, whose head hung limply off the edge of Lena's shoulder. How could she? The woman was a Talon assassin. A threat. What in hell was Lena thinking?
She felt Angela pause beside her. Neither said a word until Lena stood right before them, breathing raggedly and peering up at them through cracked goggles. Perspiration stuck her brown bangs across her forehead and dripped off her chin. Her lips were unhealthily pale. She swayed on the spot for a second, then shifted her feet to steady herself.
"Lena–," Angela started, but Lena cut her off.
"Please, Angela. She needs help now. I mean, now." There was not a single trace of her usual gaiety. Just urgency bordering on panic and fear. She turned her pleading gaze to Fareeha, who did not wait for Angela's response and stretched out her arms.
Lena handed Widowmaker over gratefully, moving with all the cautiousness of someone handling a glass sculpture. Getting a secure hold on the woman – who was still facing down – Fareeha lifted her easily over the window ledge.
"Wait," Angela said, putting a hand on Fareeha's arm to still her. She swept away the long strands of hair stuck to the back of Widowmaker's neck, revealing a deep vertical incision. The cut sat wider in the middle, as though it had been forced open by a foreign object. Black congealed blood stained the surrounding blue skin, framed by dried tracks running down both sides of the neck. Fareeha could see hints of white through the torn muscles.
"That's where her tracker was," Lena explained shakily, having climbed into the office herself. "She cut in and made me… She made me…" Hitches in breath prevented her from finishing the sentence. She pressed the back of a quivering hand against her mouth, dark stains around her fingertips completing the explanation for her.
"Operating theatre," Angela told Fareeha.
She sprang into action, carrying Widowmaker through the doors into the theatre just opposite Angela's office. Taking care not to jostle the body and keeping her mind off how cool the woman's skin felt, she laid Widowmaker down on the table. Angela strode past her, opening a locker and retrieving her tools. Fareeha watched the doctor roll up her sleeve and inject a stimulant into her forearm. She had seen Angela do this before, but this time she kept her mouth shut.
"Athena," Angela said, pulling on her scrubs. "Replace camera feed in the operating theatre and med bay with footage from 1 to 2am. Keep it on loop. Do not allow anyone control access. Authorisation: Ziegler – Epsilon, Alpha."
"Yes, Doctor."
She turned to Fareeha. "Use the staff on Lena. Leave no trace of her wounds. If anyone asks for me, tell them I'm occupied. Experiments. Do not reveal Widowmaker's presence."
Nodding sharply, she strode over to Lena, who stood at the foot of the table staring blankly. With a gentle but firm grip on Lena's shoulders, she steered the woman away and led her out the door. She settled the near-catatonic woman on a bed, retrieving Angela's medical trolley from the corner and the caduceus staff from the office. Since she spent so much time in med bay, Angela had decided to train Fareeha in basic first aid and patient care. Combined with field experience from her previous careers, she could act as the doctor's assistant whenever Angela needed it. Not that she needed it much.
Turning her attention to Lena, she moved the medical scanner down her body, relieved that the Brit was not severely injured. The two bullet wounds in her shoulder and thigh were clean, and the cuts around her body were not that deep. There were a few fractures in her ribs, but the staff would take care of that in an instant. And it did. Within mere seconds of activating the healing stream, Lena was as good as new. Physically.
Setting the staff on the trolley, Fareeha hooked her fingers under the straps of Lena's goggles and pulled it off her head. Lena looked up at her, eyes still dazed, as though she could not process her situation.
"Are you feeling alright, Lena?"
She nodded, gaze falling, before it went towards to operating theatre. Deciding that Lena could handle being by herself for a few minutes, Fareeha went back into Angela's office. She reappeared before the younger woman a short while later, holding a steaming mug of tea. Lena stared at it for an extended moment. Then her mouth slowly curved, before bursting out in laughter. Though short-lived, the laugh left behind a smile that set Fareeha's mind at ease. The Brit took the mug carefully with trembling fingers, and held it under her nose for a short sniff.
"You sure know how to make me happy," Lena said quietly. "Earl Grey?"
Fareeha nodded, though she was pretty sure the confirmation was unnecessary. Lena took a few sips, sighing as the hot liquid warmed her chest. Then she lowered the mug onto her lap, finger tracing the porcelain rim.
"She'll be fine, won't she?"
"Of course," Fareeha replied. "Angela can bring even the dead back to life. This is nothing for her."
Then silence fell between them, Lena fiddling more with the mug while Fareeha stood before her.
"Aren't you gonna ask why I was with Widowmaker?" Lena asked finally.
"No. I'd let you wait until you are ready. But Angela will want an explanation when she's out. So I suggest you start preparing one." She set a hand on messy brown hair, tousling it even further. "I'll get you a change of clothes in the meantime."
"Thanks, love." There was a hint of trepidation in her voice, and Fareeha shared the sentiment. Both of them very well knew that the doctor would be intense.
Angela looked like she was ready to strangle Lena. Though she sat at safe distance from the older woman, Lena still looked like she was being physically pummeled by the doctor as she kept talking.
"So I helped her get rid of her squad. Hit them before they realised what was happening. Then we destroyed all records they had of the mission. And…" She swallowed. "When we got into the car, she made me tear her tracker out and destroy it. After that I drove back here. Well actually, no. We ran out of gas halfway, so I had to run back. Carrying her."
"Where did you run out of gas?" Fareeha asked.
"El Zabal."
Her eyes widened. "You ran all the way from El Zabal? How did you even get through the border?"
"Fareeha," Angela said, shooting her a warning look. She sealed her mouth immediately, and relaxed only when the doctor turned her attention back to Lena, massaging a temple. "She said she wants to defect."
"Yeah."
"Because she was remembering her past life."
"Yeah."
"And? What did she plan to do after defecting?"
"I– I don't know," Lena stammered. "She didn't say, she just told me about this mission out of the blue. We didn't have time to plan much beyond 'shoot then leg it'. But…" She paused, looking at Angela sheepishly. "I thought she could stay with us?"
Angela closed her eyes, revealing little through the twitch in her mouth. It may be Fareeha's imagination, but she could feel the woman's exasperation radiating off her being. Honestly, having the Talon sniper join them was not a very welcoming prospect. Talon and security reasons aside, it would take a long time for anyone to trust her. Fareeha could still remember the last three spots on her body where Widowmaker's bullets had bitten into. Not to mention that she was the one who put Ana out of commission. But something just felt wrong about dumping the injured woman and letting her fend for herself. Lena's distress aside, of course.
"Lena. Have you ever considered that this could be a trap?" Angela asked.
"No, it isn't. How can Talon plan a trap when they don't know about…this?" Lena made a distinct 'ah' sound before changing it to 'this'. If they were playing a word game, Fareeha would have bet on an 'us'.
"What makes you think they don't?"
"She would never tell them," Lena said fiercely.
"Maybe she doesn't have to. We don't know what kind of procedures they use on her. They might have…mined the information from her brain."
The Brit's fingers started fidgeting on her cup. It had been empty for a long while now, but holding onto it seemed to give her a sense of security. "But we tore out the tracker. Even if it was a trap, they wouldn't know where we are now. Unless there are others…?"
"No. Her body is clean. But you know as well as I, that they don't need our location to cause trouble within our ranks." Angela did not need to say it. The name 'Gerard' echoed deafeningly in the silence that followed.
"So, what now? Are you planning to throw her out?" Lena's words were much quieter, but her intent was clear. If they threw Widowmaker out, they would lose an agent in Lena Oxton.
Angela returned her stare, pursed lips thinning even further. Fareeha let the battle of wills drag on a little longer before deciding enough was enough. She stepped in, placing a hand on Lena's shoulder.
"That's enough for now. It's late, and we're all exhausted. Come on." She helped Lena up from her chair. "I'll set up a bed for you."
When the women's eye contact did not break, Fareeha pushed on Lena's back and steered her towards the door. The younger woman's muscles were tense, the angles of her face hard as she looked away from Angela and followed Fareeha out. She shied away from the med bay beds, requesting to be set up in the operating theatre instead. Fareeha complied, and they had a cot laid out beside the operating table in no time.
"Thanks, love," Lena whispered before Fareeha left the theatre. She was sitting upright on the side of the cot, facing Widowmaker. Fareeha nodded and left her alone.
Angela was standing at the now-closed windows, arms crossed when Fareeha reentered the office. She sighed quietly, walking up to the doctor and circling her arms around her waist. Pressing up against Angela's stiff back, she tightened her hold and placed a kiss on her temple.
"Am I making a mistake, Fareeha?" Angela kept her gaze forward, but her arms dropped to rest on Fareeha's.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. Having Widowmaker in the base was not a very good feeling. Like having the tip of a dagger balanced on her back.
"She has killed so many. Innocents. Leaders. Our own." Angela's hand sought hers, and she returned the firm grip. "Does she deserve our help after what she has done?"
"Does it matter? You want to help, don't you?"
"What I want may put our lives in danger. It will." Angela turned in her arms. "Even if not from her alone, then from Talon when they realise she has defected."
"And throwing her out will put her life in danger. Look, you're overthinking this. You know helping her is the right thing to do. Just be the doctor that you are and help her recover first. If not for Widowmaker, then…" Fareeha hesitated. "For Amélie."
Angela looked as if she had been dealt with a physical blow, nails digging into Fareeha's biceps. There was a momentary flare of anger behind blue irises, before it was dampened with a clench of her jaw.
"And if this backfires?" It was both an inquiry and a challenge.
"Then let me be the soldier that I am."
"Offering to bear the consequences of my actions is not going to make me feel better, Fareeha."
"Not your action. Our action. We will all decide what to do with her, won't we?"
Angela's eyes narrowed and she looked away, still obviously conflicted. Fareeha leaned forward, pressing her lips on Angela's forehead.
"Why don't you put the questions down and take a rest first? You'll think more clearly after a few hours' sleep. I'll wake you when Widowmaker comes to, alright?"
"No." Angela frowned at her, like she was offended by the mere thought of it. "I don't think that's–"
"I'm not going to let you work any longer. You haven't slept for the past day, you just had a three-hour surgery, and that stimulant crash is going to kick in soon."
"Fareeha–"
"You know better than to push yourself like that." She returned Angela's glare with a stoic gaze, keeping her hands on the blonde's hips even when she crossed her arms. "Don't make me play hardball."
"Hardball? Look, just let me–"
Angela raised her hands in reflex when she was yanked in, mouth tense against Fareeha's hard kiss. Though Fareeha stood against the push on her chest, she let Angela pull her head back.
"Fareeha, I need to–" Another kiss. "You can't–" Hands slipped to the sides of broad shoulders as Angela tilted her chin up. "You can't always–mmph." Her groan was muffled against Fareeha's mouth. "You can't win– All our– Arguments– By kissing me."
Angela's lips slid against hers when she claimed another kiss. "No. But I'll win this one," Fareeha breathed, holding back a smile when Angela pulled her in ever so slightly at their next lip-lock. She let the doctor deepen the kiss, finally handing the reins over. Angela reached up, gaining a firm hold on her nape – and that was when Fareeha noticed the slight tremble in her fingers.
She fumbled blindly for Angela's hair tie, pulling it off so her hair spilled down to her shoulders. Fareeha ran a hand through blonde tresses and pulled her head lightly back, a tiny moan emanating from Angela's throat. She planted a short kiss on parted lips, before stepping aside and sweeping Angela off her feet. Fareeha reached the couch in quick strides and set Angela down gently. The blonde kept her arms raised, but when Fareeha moved to her feet instead of falling into her embrace, she finally caught on.
"You cheated," she accused, disbelief colouring her tone. Fareeha smiled as she removed Angela's flats, placing them neatly at the foot of the couch.
"All's fair in love and war, ya albi." Fareeha took the pillows beside Angela's legs and placed them under her head. She took a slim hand, noting the weakness in her grip. The crash was coming soon. Pressing her lips on Angela's knuckles, she smiled down at the doctor.
"Leave the worrying to me for now. I'll keep watch, okay?"
Angela nodded, and Fareeha heaved a sigh of relief. She set the doctor's hand down, then got to her feet. "Now to go take care of the other one."
She had no doubt that Lena was still watching over Widowmaker. What were the implications of that, she was unsure and certainly was not in a mood to figure it out now.
"Good night," Fareeha said, pausing at the door with a hand on the light switch.
"I'll get you back for this," Angela replied.
Fareeha arched a brow. "And here I was, planning to get you a blanket. Maybe I should let you freeze instead."
"You wouldn't," Angela said smugly, and she was right. Fareeha did get her a blanket anyway. Thankfully she was not awake to gloat about it.
"ya albi" (Arabic) = my heart
A/N: to 'Guest' - I hope this came in time? Ahaha.