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Amélie’s days in Watchpoint: Gibraltar were starting to get better.
She didn’t know exactly how long she’d been in the Overwatch base, but she remembered being - how did they say it? - rescued back from Talon. It felt like that’d happened an eternity ago. How long it’d taken them to manage to take a master assassin out of guard was beyond her, but the fact remained that they did.
Her time after that had been brutal at least. They’d found out a way to fight against her conditioning and to make it so she’d be able to gradually break from Talon’s reprogramming. That looked beautiful in theory, but the practice had been much more convoluted than that. No matter what manner of preventive measures Overwatch had employed, nothing could’ve prepared her for the onslaught of feelings associated with what she’d done before.
Brutal was definitely a way to put it.
On the brighter side, she’d been treated very well by everyone, even if they were suspicious of her at the start. This had been changing, with most agents now getting more comfortable and used to her presence. And, of course, there was Lena.
The woman was, surprisingly, the one who’d been the most welcoming to her out of all the other agents. That was a surprise, but she seemed to have believed in her and her recovery, as they called it, from perhaps not day one, but day two or three. As it was, Amélie had found herself getting close to Lena, who seemed very happy to help, even - and for some weird reason especially - on the worst days.
Then there was Dr. Ziegler, who was overseeing the whole process. Amélie hadn’t trusted her at first, but now, after so much time spent with daily visits and conversations, she was finding herself getting closer to the doctor.
What had her life come to?
It was late afternoon and Amélie was going, with Lena, to their daily visit to Angela. Lena was talking excitedly about something, but Amélie was far into her own head, thinking, piecing things together and remembering. Right after that, Lena noticed that her companion seemed lost in thought, but not in the bad way, so she smiled and stopped talking, letting Amélie think in what she hoped could be peace.
They walked the rest of the way to Angela’s office in comfortable silence, which was only broken when the pair arrived at their destination and Lena knocked on the door. Angela opened the door, looking tired, as usual, but also with a small, appreciative, smile.
Lena and Amélie walked in and proceeded to sit, Lena on the floor while Amélie and Angela preferred the chairs. The sound of conversation soon filled the air, at first focused on Amélie and how she was feeling and if there were any side effects Angela should know about, but then it devolved into each of them telling about what had happened until then in their days.
The conversation was broken by the sudden blaring of the remaining functional alarms of the base, which were accompanied by the distinct sounds of fighting. That could only mean-
“Talon,” Angela said, looking at Lena, who nodded. The two women turned to Amélie, with Angela getting to her faster and taking her hand, placing it in Lena’s. “Go,” she said, looking between the two women, “go with Lena, she’ll keep you safe.”
“Where are we going?” Tracer asked.
Just as Angela opened her mouth to answer, a loud noise, seemingly an explosion, went off alarmingly near to where the trio was. All they could do was hide behind a metal table as something crashed through the window, landing on the floor. Lena was the first to go check what it was out and the small gasp she made was what Angela needed to get up and see what had just happened for herself.
Fareeha was there, sitting down and checking her suit, looking a little disoriented. Her helmet was thrown off to the side. From the slight smoke coming out of one of her wings, Angela could imagine that whatever had happened to her suit, it wasn’t good. That and how she’d just crashed through the window, which she was sure wasn’t something the soldier did regularly.
The “Fareeha!” came out of Angela’s mouth automatically, followed by her crossing the room as fast as she could, her mind already working at a million miles per hour and looking for possible injuries.
Fareeha, not as disoriented as before, looked up at the doctor. “I’m fine, Ang,” she groaned, but stopped as soon as she received an incredulous look from Angela, which made her glance to the ground and then back at Angela. “Just shot out of one of my engines.”
Angela was now checking Fareeha over for injuries, her hands moving as if in autopilot. Lena and Amélie were standing back, watching the scene happen and getting increasingly worried by the fighting noises, which could be heard better because of the broken window. Lena had started saying that maybe they should go somewhere else in the base, preferably to fight against their invaders, when Fareeha, now standing, started talking again.
“Gibraltar’s lost.” These two words made the younger agent stop her phrase immediately. “There’s too many of them to keep off with the numbers we have now. I’ve spoken to Winston, we’re meeting at Anubis.”
Angela frowned, but seemed to make a decision and then turned to Lena and Amélie, who were still holding hands. “Lena, go get Amélie out of here,” she said in a tone that showed there wasn’t any room for discussion.
“But what about you two?” Lena asked, looking between the doctor and the soldier.
“Angie, go with them,” Fareeha said, resting one hand on Angela’s back. That gesture was answered with a shake of Angela’s head, her owner now narrowing her eyes at Fareeha.
“I’m not leaving you.” She said in the same tone as before, then turned to Amélie and Tracer, who were wondering if they were about to intrude in something they shouldn’t be intruding on. “We’ll meet you there.” The doctor’s voice took them out of their similar thoughts and both nodded their assent.
They were about to finally leave when Fareeha spoke again, her voice pleading. “Please, Angela.”
The mentioned woman shook her head no again, her eyes determined. “No, please don’t argue with me on this. I love and trust you and I’m staying by your side. Besides,” she added, gesturing to her suit, “you look like you need my assistance.” She looked to her fellow Overwatch agent, who was almost at the doorway by then. “Lena, go.”
Lena gulped and nodded, worried for Fareeha and Angela, but also worried for Amélie and all of her friends who she knew were at the base at that moment. “You two stay safe.” She then gave them her trademark grin. “We’ll see you soon.”
And with that Lena and Amélie left. Both Angela and Fareeha flinched a little when some gunshots sounded way too close for comfort for about two seconds before they stopped. Lena’s work, probably. Angela wished, not for the first time, that she’d taken her staff with her. Mentally cursing, she looked at Fareeha, who had already put her helmet back on.
“How long until your rocket barrage is ready?” She asked, already checking what she could use from the room for both healing and fighting.
“Not long.” Fareeha answered, checking her suit’s system and silently thanking that the only thing damaged was the engine. Still, damn that sniper.
Angela smiled, even if it came off tense. She then kissed Fareeha’s cheek briefly. “Let’s go rain some justice.”
“Well, you know what they say.” Fareeha said with a small smile. The message saying that the Barrage was ready popped up on her visor.
“What?” Angela asked, raising one eyebrow.
The smile turned into a grin as Fareeha took Angela’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Heroes never die.”