As we lay in bed — a pharmercy fic

Angela laid on her side, the humming of the base machinery sounding like the perfect white noise to her overworked mind. A long sigh escaped her parted lips, her cheek feeling the warmth of Fareeha's bare chest against it.

It felt strange at the start of their relationship, these quiet moments of nothingness, but now it felt like the only fender between them and the chaos outside those metal sheeted walls. Angela slowly moved her head, blonde hair tousled and sticking up in awkward angles to look up at Fareeha's calm, sleeping face. "Always so stern" she thought to herself with a soft smile, just watching as the other woman seemed to frown in her sleep "probably thinking of missions, I'm sure".

Fareeha had been hard-headed over taking any sort of break since the recall, since the Null Sector attacks, since Helix. "I never needed a break before!" She huffed a little too proudly, almost as if trying to show off her own mental endurance. That was only until Angela got hurt, a very minor injury, nothing nanobiotics couldn't fix in a matter of minutes, but the crimson that bloomed through the Valkyrie Suit's white fabric didn't leave her mind for weeks. The sheer image making her retch her breakfast, lunch and dinner every single time. That was when Angela decided to force her to bedrest for a few days, and that was when their own feelings finally bubbled to the surface. Maybe it was Angela's horrible sandwiches, or Fareeha's terrible habit of trying to do everything on her own, but they both finally noticed in those few days that they worked better together — in the field and in life.

In Angela's tired little head, Fareeha was simply a really good friend. Someone to count on. Her knight in shining armor in the field no matter how much the other woman tried to show her true feelings.

Fareeha had been desperate at that point, how could all of her advances be seen as simply another friendly act?! "The woman was dense, far too dense to be real!" she thought much more than once. In that desperate moment she finally blurted out "I love you" for the very first time.

Angela blinked once, twice, a third time before reaching over and touching her face, making sure this was reality, not a dream, not a figment of her imagination, not the fifth cup of coffee giving her sleep deprived brain a far too real hallucination of her deepest wish and fear at the same time. "I love you too" was the only thing said before the heated kiss that overtook all of their sensations.

Need, hunger and lust fought to be the center of that night, but none of it could quite describe it. Heated flesh and wet kisses couldn't quite explain the emotions fully, but neither of them could quite vocalize it either. Years of desire, of fantasies, of needy little wishes all seemed to come true at once, in a singular night. So much so it was only in the morning, both slightly bruised and sore, that they truly confessed.

"Ever since we first met," Fareeha muttered under her breath shyly and flushed, her tanned skin looking a little too red at the flustered feeling of telling the truth. Ever since the first time they met had Fareeha looked up at Angela, since that fated photo, right after Angela had gotten into medical school and had come over to Gibraltar to celebrate with everyone. Fareeha had been just about 14, young, naive and stupid. Thinking it was only a little crush on someone about 5 years older than her, a crush on a senior. But here they were, 20 years later, laying in bed together after so many nights were her only comfort was the Angela she imagined in her head. The soft, caring, beautiful and sensual Angela she imagined was nothing compared to the real one. In reality, the Angela in her head was more like a worse version of the real thing.

Angela wasn't Mercy. She wasn't the paragon of hope people believed her to be. She was human, made of flesh and blood. Living, breathing and breaking.

The weight of the world was on her back. The weight of how her research had been used by the wrong people to do the wrong thing. The weight of not being brilliant enough to solve every problem on the first try. It all had weighed down on her psyche over the last 20 years and it made her feel like the 11 year old Angela all over again. Staring at puddles of blood under rubble, hoping for minutes, hours, days then weeks that her parents would be fine, alive and home once they were able to finally lift all of the rubble. That was the reason sleep felt like a sin. 8 hours wasted on not finding the answer. 584.000 hours wasted on not finding answer.

But right now she didn't want to move for the first time in a week. Staring up at the woman she loved as if she was a statue of soapstone, admiring every piece of it as an artist adores it's muse.

The world is falling down outside, yes. But Angela simply wanted a singular moment of peace, a moment where she could breath without having to be Mercy, without having to be Doctor Ziegler.

Fareeha frowned once again in her sleep, the creases between her dark brows deepening. Whatever she may be dreaming off seemed to be intense.

Angela slowly pulled her hand from under the covers, using the tip of her finger to massage the little creases away from Fareeha's face with a soft smile. She still felt a little guilty for not having thought of Fareeha for so long during college, during the golden days of Overwatch. But she was so lost in her own misery she barely had time to think. It was only when she arrived at Gibraltar, right after the mission in Rio and saw Fareeha standing there by Cole's side that every emotion seemed to hit her.

For the years she spent in Cairo, treating the sick and helping against the war effort, deep down in her mind she hoped to see Fareeha and maybe she did, she didn't really know. But seeing her there, so much stronger, older and more confident than the girl she remembered, it felt like every emotion she had been hiding, every hope of seeing her again rushed back to her mind.

Young Fareeha never truly left Angela's mind. The look of adoration when they saw each other in the tight corridors of the base. The way she seemed to be the only one that always saw beyond Mercy, beyond the strong front she put up. The worry behind her eyes when she brought Angela a sandwich than two every night.

After the mission in Toronto, when they finally had the chance to properly work together and Angela fell asleep exhausted in her desk only to wake up to that same ham sandwich from her younger days, everything seemed real.

She wanted to be cared for. Not in a monetary sense. None of this was for money, after all. Angela wanted someone, anyone to see beyond the Mercy facade and nurtured her, hugger her, lover her. And ever since the beginning Fareeha saw her.