A/N: FF's document manager refuses to accept D-Va's name with the full stop. This is the compromise.

"Captain!"

Hana's greeting rang clear across the med bay before Fareeha even set one foot inside. A smile curled the soldier's lips, accompanied by a bout of worry when Hana's body bolted upright too fast.

"Hana," she replied, striding over to the girl's bed. "You shouldn't move so quickly. Your wounds may reopen."

"Not you too," Hana groaned, offering mild resistance when Fareeha pushed her back down. Gently, of course.

"Yes, me too. You had us all worried yesterday." She noted the bandages still wrapped around Hana's body, where her t-shirt had ridden up.

"I was fine."

"You were bleeding out in your mech, Hana," Fareeha reminded her.

Talon had ambushed them in an escort mission, replacing their charge with an impostor who blew up the car en route to the drop-off point. In the wake of the confusion, three full squads of mercenaries converged upon them and opened fire. The attack seemed rather well-planned, Pharah had to admit. One squad to take on Winston, D-Va, and 76 each. Sniper teams on rooftops to bring down Pharah. The one oversight was their lack of attention on Mercy, whose only real concern was stray bullets while she kept everyone in fighting shape.

The Overwatch squad was hard-pressed to keep up in the first few minutes, almost getting boxed in by Talon. But Pharah got the impression that their enemies were rather…green. Their organised attack dissolved into an uncoordinated mess when she finally took out the snipers with well-aimed trick shots, and started raining a never-ending hail of rockets on the ground troops. They scattered to find cover, but Winston seized the chance to prolong the chaos. He threw his weapon aside and leapt onto the Talon operatives, huge arms slapping countless bodies around like ragdolls. Everything after was standard procedure: Pharah kept up covering fire while her teammates finished off the rest of Talon. It was almost an uninteresting blur – except for the end.

There were a few scrapes: patches of Winston's fur were matted with blood, 76 walked with a limp. A couple of bullets punched through the side of Pharah's armour, stopping right above her ribs. Mercy remained untouched. But D-Va… Pharah remembered the moment they approached the pink mech, lying almost crumpled on the pavement, with crystal clarity. The girl's head hung limp from her perch, hands still resting on the controls, as though she had just fallen asleep mid-battle. A large piece of warped metal – from the top of her mech, it seemed – was lodged in her lower back. Thick streams of blood were dripping from either side of her inert body, marking their trails down carefully painted steel.

"D-Va!"

Mercy shoved Pharah and 76 out of the way, caduceus staff ready in one hand. She reached out with the other, feeling for a pulse in the girl's neck. At the contact though, D-Va jumped. Her head snapped up, followed by an agonised groan when her mind caught up with the state of her body.

"Oh…fuck. Think I got shot," she mumbled, eyes glazed over. She was about to fall unconscious again.

"Two in the right bicep, one near the collarbone," Mercy said, continuing her examination as her staff worked its magic. "One more between the shoulder blades." There was a slight moment of hesitation when she glanced at the metal in D-Va's back.

"Do you feel pain anywhere else?"

"No… Can't feel legs…"

Mercy's voice turned to steel, "Winston, bring her out. Gently. 76, transport. Pharah, clear the area. No Talon, civilians, nothing. Move!"

"But I'm fine now!" Hana protested. She sat up again, only to be pushed back down.

"Apparently the doctor doesn't think so, or you wouldn't still be in here," Fareeha said, keeping a firm hold on the girl. "Where is Angela?"

With a pout on her lips, Hana nodded at the door to the adjoining office, "She's been in there since last night."

Fareeha bit down a growl, hand dropping from Hana's shoulder as she made her way to the office.

"I could buzz her for you, if you like."

"I don't think that's–"

"Oh Doctor Ziggy!" Hana activated the device next to her bed anyway, opening the patient's comm channel. "Captain Egypt's here to see you."

Fareeha paused outside the door, throwing Hana an incredulous look. "'Captain Egypt?' Really?"

"What? Makes you sound cooler. Like a comic book hero."

"Tell her to come in," Angela's voice piped through the speaker.

"She says–"

"I heard. Thank you," Fareeha said pointedly. The last thing she saw was the girl giving her a mock salute before she entered the office.

The usual stark white lighting was turned down to half intensity, just the way the doctor liked it while she worked at the desk. Angela's eyes never left the three screens even as Fareeha stepped in.

"Yes? What do you need?" Brisk. Business-like.

"Missed you at lunch, so I thought I'd check in."

'Mess' could just about sum up the state of Angela's worktable. Despite her steadfast loyalty to order in the med bay, she had a tendency to lose track of herself when fully absorbed in personal projects. The desk was littered with datapads, books, and loose pieces of paper covered with the doctor's illegible handwriting. Illegible to Fareeha, anyway. Winston seemed to have no trouble deciphering her notes.

Standing behind the doctor, she found herself looking at the schematic of a Raptora Mark VI. Hers, specifically. On the other two screens were schematics for D-Va's mech and Genji's cyborg body. Beside each one was a separate, simpler blueprint, with tons of notes scribbled around it. Fareeha leaned over Angela's head, squinting at the Raptora's blueprint.

"'Auto-Medic System'?" She read the underlined name out loud.

"Self-explanatory. I am designing a companion system that will administer medication when you sustain an injury." She swiped across the screen with her fingers, overlaying the Raptora systems with the experimental one. Another tap later, a bare-bones network of lines was highlighted blue.

"It will not be as effective as my caduceus staff, of course. But it will keep you on your feet until I can get to you."

"I don't spend much time 'on my feet' in the Raptora, you know," Fareeha joked.

No repartee. Angela merely separated the two schematics again, fingers flying across the keyboard. Catching onto what this was about, Fareeha grabbed a nearby chair and sat next to the doctor.

"Please tell me it doesn't involve needles."

That earned her a glance. Enough time to note the dark shadows emerging beneath Angela's eyes.

"Is this what you've been working on since–?"

"Fareeha, please." The doctor's hands landed on her table with a solid thud. She bowed her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to–"

"You're working yourself into the ground, Angela. Again."

"This is important."

"So are you."

Her short, cynical bark of laughter took Fareeha by surprise. Angela leaned back into her chair, mouth drawn back into a thin line, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The doctor stayed like that for a while before letting her hand drop, covering her mouth. She stared, unseeing, at her desk. The steel glint in her eyes had faded, revealing a tired soul in its wake. For a moment, bathed in the static glow of the screens, Angela looked much older than she was.

Then she stretched her hand, swiping and tapping as she navigated through her computer's files. Until finally, she opened a long list of names.

"These were the agents of Overwatch. All of them, before it fell apart." Her voice was low, almost flat.

She keyed in a command and the system ran through the list, highlighting almost half the names red. Then it opened a new window, placing the subset under K.I.A. Fareeha spotted her mother's name near the top of the list. She felt her throat tighten.

"Every time I look at this, I cannot help but wonder," Angela murmured. "How many of us will be gone before this is over."

With effort, Fareeha tore her eyes away from the screen, focusing instead on the woman before her. She wheeled her chair closer, bumping lightly against Angela's. Finding no words to give her comfort, Fareeha wrapped an arm around her shoulders instead. She watched as Angela finally turned and locked gazes, one hand reaching up to trace her jaw.

"And you. Will you be here until the end?"

"I will." The promise dropped from Fareeha's lips without second thought. "I would never leave your side."

Angela's eyes softened then, a small smile gracing her face, "If only saying it would make it so."

"Do you doubt me, Doctor Ziegler?"

"I am merely being realistic, Captain Amari."

"Well then, I shall be realistic as well. At the rate you're going, I'll have to follow you into the ground." Fareeha nodded at the discarded water bottles in the nearby bin. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the human body requires more than just water to survive, no?"

Lips pursed as though deep in thought, Angela narrowed her eyes.

"I believe so. But hold on." She turned back to her computer, pulling up a search engine and tapping away at her keyboard. "I'll have to double-check your facts."

Grinning, Fareeha pulled Angela's chair back. She could feel the woman smile against her lips as they leaned into a kiss. Hard at first, Angela pressing insistently, hand sliding up to the back of Fareeha's neck, pulling her closer. She obliged, savouring every moment as tension ebbed from the doctor's body, her kisses shedding their bruising intensity. When they finally parted – Fareeha stealing one last peck – Angela's expression was much lighter. Content.

"You know, I might be getting a little hungry," she said after a moment's thought, locking her hands behind Fareeha's neck. "And a little sleepy."

"Then why don't you head back to your room? I'll look after the med bay for a while."

Angela frowned. "But– Hana's still here. I have to–"

"The girl will be alright. If anything happens, I'll send for you."

"…Fine," she relented.

"And I'll bring dinner up to your room later tonight," Fareeha continued, glad that her working fever had burned out. "Sounds good?"

"Very good. I want some dessert as well."

"What would you like?"

A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of Angela's devilish grin. Her light blue gaze was predatory, magnetic, as she slid forward to straddle Fareeha's hips. She leaned down, so they could feel each puff of breath the other took.

"How about a little Egyptian?"

Ah. Walked right into that one.

The realisation had barely sunk into Fareeha when Angela descended upon her, throwing all comprehensible thought into chaos. A deep moan rose from the back of her throat as the doctor's tongue pushed past her non-existent defenses. Long, lithe fingers trailed down familiar dark skin. From the neck, down between her breasts, to the hard muscles of her abdomen, guiding the tight coil of desire as it settled between her legs. Heat bloomed across Fareeha's cheeks when Angela pressed against the fabric, eliciting a soft whine as she parted their lips, pressing kisses along her jaw.

"I wonder how ready you are," the doctor purred into her ear.

That drove her over the edge. Fareeha stood without warning, with Angela's legs safely wrapped around her waist, and stumbled blindly forward. They hit the table hard, sending some items falling to the floor, but neither cared. Fareeha growled, crashing her lips against Angela's to wipe that smug grin off her face. She fumbled with the blonde's shirt for a while, before finally tearing it open, sending buttons rolling across the office.

Angela gasped, but was given no time to react. Fareeha leaned down, biting that sweet spot beneath her jaw, hands cupping Angela's breasts firmly through her simple black bra. She felt the doctor shiver beneath her, as two hands grabbed the sides of her hips, tugging her impossibly closer.

"My angel," she breathed, capturing Angela's lips with her own again. She pressed the doctor downwards, onto the table, hips grinding harder against her lover.

"Fareeha–"

"Doctor Ziggy!"

Fareeha's mind took a moment to register Hana's disembodied voice, and Angela's breathless cursing in German. She groaned into her lover's neck, utterly frustrated and refusing to budge from Angela's body. That damned kid had excellent timing.

The doctor held onto Fareeha for a moment longer, calming herself before reaching over to activate the comm channel.

"Yes, Hana," Angela replied, expertly keeping any sign of impatience under wraps.

"Can I go hang out with Lucio?"

Fingernails dug lightly into Fareeha's lower back. "No, Hana. You are to have strict bed rest until tomorrow. Lucio can wait until then."

"But we're just gonna watch a movie!" Hana protested. "I feel okay enough for that!"

"No means no. Your injuries were serious. I don't want you reopening anything."

"I'm fine! Seriously! Look, I'll prove it."

Angela stiffened when sounds of shuffling piped through the channel. She pushed Fareeha away and got off the table.

"What are you doing, Hana," Angela asked, warning obvious in her tone.

"Gonna do a handstand."

Before Fareeha could blink or stop her, Angela shot out of the office.

Oh no.

"Hana Song, stop that or–"

"What happened to your shirt?! Is that a…oh, ew! You two were–"

"No– No! Keep your voice down, or you're grounded for a week!"

A/N: Guess who got to hang out with Lucio.