Prologue
Private infirmaries were lonely, that was one of Zarya’s few complaints. But since the recall there were a lot less agents, and a lot less serious injuries. Well, she wasn’t exactly an agent of Overwatch, that seemed to confuse a lot of the members, but they didn’t seem to mind having her around at times, and when she got hurt on a mission they insisted on taking care of her. Though more accurately in this case, Mercy insisted on taking care of her and Reinhardt carried her back and wouldn’t let her leave. Now, they were the two that visited her the most. She could count on her hand how many times someone else came to see her. So when they didn’t come to check, she was alone, watching TV and the news reports, looking away whenever it covered Overwatch’s rumoured resurgence.
What was she doing here? She wasn’t in Overwatch, and she didn’t need private care. It had been a week since the surgery already, but it felt like months staring at an empty infirmary, rows of beds, no dividers, lots of pictures, some old and a few that were more recent, some even catching her in them. The photos were over a desk kept very neat, but with one patient, she would have been surprised if there was a mess. Mercy seemed like a neat person, after all.
And as if just thinking of her was enough to call her, the door opened followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor. Zarya leaned forward slightly, but she only received a raised brow before she smiled in return and leaned back again, intent on avoiding another lecture. Mercy was kind, but when it came to patients defying orders she didn’t hesitate to correct the behaviour- for their health, of course.
“Please tell me I’m free to go.” Zarya started before rolling her shoulders, but it got her anther harsh stare before she stopped.
“Of course you can, you’re not a prisoner here…”
Though neither of them held any real hostility in their looks, there was a growing avoidance. It wasn’t a comfortable matter, maybe that’s why so few people visited her, or because she was still a stranger to most of them other than being a celebrity and a war hero.
“You’re welcome to leave, but-” She trailed off and forced herself to look away.
“I said no.” Zarya cut in. “We’ve discussed this, and I do not change my mind.”
“Yes, I’ve been told…” She trailed off with a tired look. “I just think you should consider what this could mean for you, and what we do here. I doubt you’d be cleared to go on any more missions, and your cooperating with us is already a special case; it never would have happened if you didn’t know Reinhardt so well.” But she knew they were willing to take just about anyone since the recall, even if Zarya refused to become an official agent.
“I can still fight.”
“You can’t even hold your weapon anymore.”
There wasn’t another word but Zarya delivered a swift punch to the air. “That is my weapon.”
Mercy’s gaze was burning now, but it softened when she saw Zarya flinch back and rub her shoulder. And the uncomfortable avoidance broke, because it couldn’t be avoided any longer as their stares drifted down, fixating on what wasn’t there anymore, the stump that remained of Zarya’s left arm. They were silent.
"I know it's not easy to think about for you, but I can make it more human-like. At a glance, no one will be able to tell it's a bionic arm."
"I can't go home and be seen with that, like omnic scraps."
"Does it really matter what anyone thinks?"
Zarya paused for a moment, but her expression remained hardened and unwavering.
"I dedicated my life to bringing pride and protection to my people. If I went home with that, how could I promise to keep anyone safe when I couldn't even protect myself?"
And the two fell silent, back to trying to avoid looking at what remained of her arm.
"You need to rest at least, so I'm going to request you be taken off any missions until you've had time to adjust, if you're even allowed to continue like this.”
“I can still fight.” Zarya got to her feet, stumbling for a moment before she braced herself on the bed, and she hesitated there. To become a symbol of strength and then this… She was relieved to be allowed private care. “Face it, you need me around.” She laughed.
Mercy was not amused and watched her worriedly as if she was made of glass as opposed to the strongest woman in the world.
“You know, we got by alright before you showed up.” She shrugged but continued before Zarya could say another word. “And just so you know, I won’t be going on any missions either- I was allowed to stay with you in order to make your recovery as quick and painless as possible. You’ll be back to fighting in a matter of weeks, if you’d still be allowed on missions like that.”
“They won’t be able to stop me.” Zarya laughed before wrapping her arm around Mercy’s shoulder as if a friendly gesture, but it was for the sake of keeping herself upright until she regained her balance.
“We’ll see about that.”