Chapter 3

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"Moira?" The name seemed foreign, definitely not from a place you'd been before. Y/n tried to recall more about her, but that one encounter was really the only thing they had. No passing by in the hallways, no registered staff members from the labs, you barely recognized her face.

"I do believe that you called my name, yet we have never had the pleasure of formally meeting you Y/n L/n?" All your doubt got taken away by her accent, which was just like her name, unusual.

Letting out a startled yelp you turned around and faced the woman - no - Moira. Your hands still occupied by the bandages and the bottle, almost completely let go of its contents when you noticed how close she'd gotten without you knowing.

"Oh...well," you managed to stutter "I...well -Dr Ziegler only told it by accident." For some reason something felt odd talking to this woman. There must've been a reason why Angela was not very fond of this woman.

"I doubt she'd wanted us to meet. You are her golden apprentice after all," Moira's voice seemed to be laced with something venomous when she said that. "The two of you used to be inseparable, yet you seem to be quite lonesome here..." she continued.

"Oh well," You coughed uncomfortably "You know, the Petras Act happened and all that... It doesn't seem like the right thing to do at this moment, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't know how." The government hadn't left any room for doubt. Arresting Overwatch agents for simply meeting each other. Claiming they had been planning to participate in Overwatch activity.

"Are you sure you don't know the whereabouts of your mentor? She doesn't seem to be here."

"I haven't been in contact with Angela since the explosion at the Swiss Headquarters, why?"

It was a bland lie. But she didn't need to know. Somewhat before the explosion Dr Ziegler had sent you a handwritten letter with the address of the Lindholms. Explaining that she was going to take a break, and after it she was going to be stationed in Cairo. The insides of Overwatch had been chaotic and she really needed that break. But after the explosion she had probably remained with the Lindholms.

Something was itching the back of your mind. You'd forgotten something important. Again.

"Wait, your leg!" Y/n called out. Even if it wasn't anything as serious as a broken bone or internal bleeding, Moira could still lose a lot of blood. How did she even manage to get here in the first place?

That was what you thought before you looked at her leg. You placed the stuff that had been occupying your hands on the counters beside you and dropped to the floor. Sitting on your knees you let your hand run down the place where the wound used to be.

"How..." You muttered. There used to be a wound. You were certain there had previously been one. The blood on one of your hands confirmed it. But Moira's skin showed nothing, not even a scar.

"You're mistaken if you think of me as some damsel in distress." Your head snapped upwards, and you dropped your hand that had previously been on her thigh. Her tone had dropped to something more cold and calculated.

Before you could think too much of it someone knocked onto your door. Well, to call it knocking would be an understatement. It was more like desperate fist slamming at an alarming pace, probably in the process of breaking down the door.

Getting up, you started to move past Moira into the hallway and to the door, before the sound of a shot made you halt in your tracks. The gunshot had not only stopped you, it had also silenced whoever had been breaking down your door, pained gasps could be heard and a body slumped against it.

"I suggest you don't open that." She hissed from behind you. There had been some doubt in Y/n's mind about opening the door, but the noise of scraping against wood - a terrible sound to hear.

"H..help me." A weak call. A desperate one at that, followed by gurgling, whoever was in front of your door, started choking on their own blood. A brutal fate, one which you could help to avoid. You took a step towards the door. Slowly you made your way towards the door and if it hadn't been for a sudden force to pull you back, you would have opened it.

Bang!

A second shot.

The sounds stopped.

Letting out an inaudible scream of outrage, you turned to face Moira, whose hand was still captivating your forearm. Exasperation seemed to taint her features while she was observing you.

"A gunshot to the abdomen, will not only cause internal bleeding, but lead poisoning and hypovolemia as well. Your chances of saving him were close to zero."

"I am aware of the physical traumas caused by a gun wound, but it won't change the fact that I will not let someone in need die on my doorstep. What is wrong with you?" Y/n snarled out in disdain. Something seemed to switch inside Moira, because she slamed you onto the wall and stretched out her arm. It was almost as if she was reaching for something, but the moment you saw the purple veins that used to be hidden in her sleeves, you figured out something was horribly wrong.

Dark tendrils reached your face.

At first sight nothing seemed to change, then you started to feel slightly tired. You tried to grab something, well anything. Your hand moved, but dropped halfway. It had been very pale. Pale... almost in the same way you'd seen the gang members earlier. Almost? No this was exactly the way they had looked. They had been searching for a woman. What if they had been searching for Moira? Was she connected to the Talon soldiers?

Y/ns eyes widened, and whatever was holding your body up, decided it was the right time to let go and fall down like a bag of potatoes. Slumping right into the waiting arms of Moira, who must have used the time you spent thinking about the shade of your hand to move behind you.

Was this what dying felt like? Sure, together with Mercy, you had been in more near-death situations than the both of you would've liked. But Angela always threw herself into danger, taking fists and bullets, while protecting you with her own body.

This was... scary. You couldn't think straight and the fact that your body was unresponsive, wasn't funny anymore. To be able to panic would at least be one of your rights, right? The edges of your vision blurred.

The next time you blinked, a Talon soldier had appeared in front of you. "Dr O'Deorain do you want me to get rid of them?"

"No, they might prove to be useful in the future. We still need more information about Mercy's wearabouts and I haven't had a human subject for quite some time." It seemed like Moira had already made plans for you.

The last thing you felt was the ghost of touch on your scalp, before you finally passed out.   

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