Title: Just a Scratch

Category: F/F

Fandom: Overwatch (video game)

Language: English

Notes: Writing prompt from Tumblr. Use of 8-point story arc. Sorry for the delay, trouble uploading to .

Summary: Part 3. The Overwatch team has made it back to base but is it too late to save Fareeha's life.

Days had past and there was no sign of improvement. It was no small consolation to Angela that there had been no signs of deterioration either. She had sat vigil over Fareeha since getting back to base. She had refused to leave when the team had come to relieve her from her steadfast watch. They had tried forcing her to rest, tried locking her out of the medbay but that had only earned them her wrath.

Stubbornly she safe guarded her position next to Fareeha. It was only when she had collapsed from exhaustion did she grudgingly admit that she was of no use to anyone in her state. Reinhardt, who was still recuperating himself and confined to a wheelchair, had only driven that point home when he had gruffly admonished her like he might a child.

"What good are you to anyone like this, liebling? Do you think Fareeha would be happy that you are trying to kill yourself with this behavior?" Angela scowled at the friend.

"When I need a second opinion, I'll ask for it old man." Angela turned her back, watching Fareeha anxiously through the glass windows of her office.

"Ja, then what happens when we need you to help, when we need you not as a fighter but as a healer and you can't do a thing because you have not taken care of yourself? What happens then, liebling?"

"I'll do my duty as I always have."

"You can do nothing if you are dead on your feet! Your stubbornness will get someone killed and if you are not careful, it will be Fareeha you lose."

"Enough, Reinhardt! You don't know anything! What can you, what can any of you do when even my best failed her?" She knew she sounded like a petulant child. She chalked it up to stress and her pounding head. She could barely think. She was consumed by the woman lying silently in the medbay. All she could see was Fareeha not moving. Fareeha not waking up. Fareeha slipping away from her.

"That may be true but if you are to help Fareeha through this, she needs you at your best."

Tears fell from her eyes. Angela was exhausted. Since the attack it had been the same routine. Check Fareeha's vitals, rotate her body so as not to cause bed sores or discomfort, brush her hair, bathe her and change her medical gown. Wash, rinse, repeat. Monotony had been her sanity.

When they had landed and managed to get Fareeha onto the operating table, she had already flatlined. It had been a fight to get her back and another grueling twelve hours of surgery to repair the damage. It was touch and go the first few days but soon they had Fareeha stabilized. Now it was a waiting game, not even her abilities or all the technology of Overwatch had managed to wake the woman. She looked at Reinhardt then, her voice broken.

"I can't do anything. I can't wake her up. I can't save her. What do I do? What do I do, Reinhardt?" The old man's face softened and his tone was gentle when he spoke.

"You have done enough, liebling. The rest is up to Fareeha and with you by her side, she will come back to us." With a nudge of his wheelchair he pushed her towards the door.

"Go! Shower, eat, then rest. I will take first watch."

"But-!"

"Don't argue with me. If anything changes you will be the first to know."

Reluctantly, Angela nodded and left to do as she was told but not before casting one last lingering glance in Fareeha's direction. Even she had to admit that she needed to remove herself from the situation. She was starving and food won out, then thought better of it when she noticed the strange odor she had smelled in the medbay now followed her down the hall. Shower first, then food.

Taking a long, hot shower had done wonders in working out the kinks in her shoulders. She hadn't realized how tense they had been. The hot spray, at first uncomfortable on her still healing wounds, eventually had her groaning in relief as muscles relaxed. She had needed this and she reminded herself to make sure she thanked Reinhardt later. She slipped on some sweats and a light t-shirt she had swiped from Fareeha's room. She hoped Fareeha would forgive her for her insolence. Of course, she planned to return it before Fareeha ever found out about it.

She padded down the empty corridors to the kitchen. Gourmet it was not but it suited the needs of the team. Basic and functional. There was nothing in the refrigerator and the freezer was worse off. She was stuck with mission rations and tap water. Ripping into one, possibly chicken and rice, she was surprised to find it wasn't half as bad as it looked. Then again not eating a full meal for days probably helped the taste.

Clean and fed, Angela made her way back to the medbay, each step more anxious than the next. She had been gone for almost two hours and Reinhardt had not called for her. Good news, nothing had changed. Bad news, nothing had changed.

When she reached the medbay, Reinhardt had parked his wheelchair near Fareeha's head. The room was dark except for the halogen lights shining brightly above the lone, occupied bed. Reinhardt had a book propped in his lap, reading to the woman lying silently next to him. When she stepped closer, he waved her off and when she ignored him he tossed a stern glare in her direction. Raising her hands in defeat, she beat a silent retreat to her room, which was right across from Fareeha.

Angela collapsed on her bed face first. She had left her door open and light spilled in. Reinhardt had resumed his book, his deep voice, heavily accented, was comforting. She could only make out a few words as his voice faded in and out. She recognized some of it, an old German fairy tale, one her parents used to read to her before bed. The steady lull of his voice and exhaustion finally caught up with her and it wasn't long after that sleep claimed her.

Many days passed like this, someone would keep an eye on Fareeha while Angela rested or caught up on her work. Despite the lull in activity, Angela still had other patients to attend to, minor check ups and training injuries. At first she was content to let others tend to the other medbay visitors but guilt started to weigh on her. She had taken an oath to do no harm and to be a healer to all people. How could she ignore people in need, even if their needs were minor.

Once Angela had resumed her normal activities, relief replaced her guilt. Even if she could do nothing to make Fareeha better, she could help others and that was all she wanted to do. As time passed, Fareeha's condition improved but she remained comatose. Command had decided that the team had work to do and missions resumed. Reinhardt was still recuperating, so he remained to watch over the Egyptian. Those days were hard on Angela, her thoughts always drifting to Fareeha.

Today had been especially tough. They had all made it back to the base in one piece after successfully completing their mission. After eating a light dinner, Angela had washed the dirt and grime away, and headed back to the medbay but not before swiping another t-shirt from Fareeha's room. She was starting to gather a nice collection. She really needed to wash and return the others.

In the medbay, Reinhardt regaled her with the underwhelming events of the day involving a rather nasty papercut and a lost recruit. The old man also had news of the person they were most concerned for.

"I swear, liebling, I saw her fingers twitch! She will be back with us in no time." Angela didn't have the heart to tell him that these were probably involuntary muscle movements but she humored him.

"That's wonderful news."

"You don't sound so enthusiastic. Rejoice! Fareeha is a fighter and she will wake up soon."

However, after weeks of watching the woman she loved laying in the medbay with little improvement, did not give her much hope. After offering her assurances to Reinhardt, she watched the old man hobble from the room. He was doing much better and no longer confined to a wheelchair.

Angela turned to the woman in bed, sitting down on the edge. Gently, she ran her fingers through her dark hair, tracing her jawline, her lips and wishing with all her heart that Fareeha would wake up, begging the universe to return the woman she loved to her and promising if it did, to be honest with herself and to the woman laying in bed.

Note: Thanks for reading. Please look forward to the conclusion coming next Sunday.