Chapter Text
Angela watched the Ranger march stiffly away, a worried frown pulling at the corners of her mouth as she marked the moment her posture slumped, in pain or weariness she couldn’t tell.
“Sooooo, that was strange, huh?” Lena commented, pulling her attention away momentarily.
“They’re Rangers,” Angela replied. “Strange is practically part of their job description.” She had her own suspicions on why that might be, but one didn’t go airing such theories without considering the shortened life expectancy that followed. Besides, she wasn’t in that line of work anymore. She was just a simple country doctor, thank you very much. And if her patients healed a tad bit quicker than would be considered the norm, well, she was just quite good at her job. That, and the citizens of Deadhorse knew when not to look a gift horse in the mouth and when to keep their own mouths shut.
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Well, almost all of them did.
Angela sighed, rubbing her temples with one hand. “They’re gone, Lena, and our guest soon will be too, by the sound of it. Best to leave it alone.”
Lena looked at her incredulously. “You can’t tell me you aren’t curious.” She Blinked over to where the Gate had been, peering closely at thin air before reappearing on Angela’s other side. “Oh, thank the gods they left,” she said, Blinking through a series of stretches. “You have no idea how hard it is to hold that in.”
“Being that close to a Gate couldn’t have helped,” Angela said sympathetically. “Even if it was contained.”
“Whew! No kidding! I feel all tingly inside, like I could run a marathon, or jump over a building, or—or—“ She was silent for one brief moment, gaze far away on the horizon. “Or just Blink and Blink and Blink right on up until I left this whole mess behind.”
“Lena,” Angela said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She glanced down, noting the erratic pulsing of the watch around her neck. “Lena,” she said again, more firmly. “Focus.”
Lena shook herself, then winked. “Oh, don’t worry, Doc, I ain’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon. Scout’s honor.” She grinned shakily before taking a deep breath, then another. Slowly, the watch resumed its even tempo.
“Good,” Angela said. She bit her lip, thinking, before steering her away from the middle of the street. “C’mon, let’s get you a drink. I needed to speak to Zarya about her wards anyway.”
“Are they not working?” Lena asked, ducking out of her helping hand and bounding ahead to walk backwards in front of her.
Angela glanced around before kneeling down and carefully letting her magic filter out. She frowned at how long it took–healing that Ranger had taken more out of her than she’d anticipated. In her mind’s eye, golden tendrils snaked along the ground like tree roots seeking water until they reached the edge of town and abruptly slammed into an invisible wall.
She hissed at the sensation and drew her magic back into herself. “They’re still there,” she said sourly as she stood back up, shaking out her hand.
“Huh,” Lena said thoughtfully. “I thought they were supposed to keep uninvited visitors out?”
“That’s what I thought too,” Angela replied. “But we’ve had a veritable parade of Rangers here lately.”
“To be fair, I kinda did invite the second group,” Lena pointed out.
“I suppose,” Angela said doubtfully, “but that doesn’t explain how Pharah found Deadhorse in the first place. I’ve put a lot of effort into making sure our town goes unnoticed.”
Lena shrugged. “Bad luck?”
“Or good luck,” Angela sighed, shaking her head. She could feel a headache building behind her eyes. “I suppose it was too much to hope that my misdirection charms could deter a determined Ranger. At least she seems to be one of the more reasonable ones.”
“Took me ‘n’ Winston in stride,” Lena agreed. “Don’t know many folks who’d do that, Ranger or not.” She grinned. “I think she’s a good ‘un.”
Angela had her reservations. She’d only touched the Ranger’s soul briefly in order to tether it more firmly to this plane, but she’d brushed against the shadows there. Then again, it wasn’t like her own soul was without its fair share of dark corners.
Her musings were interrupted by the saloon door swinging open, sending Lena stumbling into her.
“Oi! Watch where you’re going!” Lena called out as Angela steadied her, receiving a drunken acknowledgement in reply.
“Good?” Angela asked as they stepped through the doors, more than a bit worried that the deputy had been caught off guard. She must be more shaken than she’d let on, and Angela made a mental note to keep an eye on her over the next few days.
“Yeah, yeah, all good. I’m just gonna go grab that drink, yeah?” Lena said with a hopeful glance at the bar. Angela followed her glance and caught a glimpse of red hair. Ah, not the bar then, but the bartender .
Angela bit back a smile. “Go on then. I just need to check in with Zarya first.”
The deputy flipped her a quick salute. One quick Blink later and she was already seated at the bar and chatting up Emily.
Angela glanced around the rest of the saloon. It was relatively quiet at this hour of the day, before the evening brought in a larger crowd. Besides Lena, there were only two other patrons at the bar itself and a handful more scattered amongst the tables. She spotted the Ranger hunched over a table at the back of the room, papers already spread across its surface. The clanking of glass made her look back at the bar as Zarya walked through the door at the back carrying a full load of clean glasses and began restocking the shelves.
Angela raised a hand once she’d finished, catching Zarya’s eye and nodding toward the end of the bar. Zarya raised an eyebrow in return but ambled over.
“Need something, witch?” she asked curiously, one arm leaning on the counter
Angela’s heart skipped a beat. “Keep your voice down!” she hissed, glancing up at the Ranger. She seemed engrossed in her papers, and Angela let out a sigh of relief.
Zarya followed her line of sight and waved one hand dismissively. “Do not worry. Ranger is all right. Will not cause problems.”
Angela frowned at the certainty in her voice. “What makes you say that?”
“Walked right through my wards around town, yes?” Zarya shrugged. “Impossible if mean anyone in town harm.”
“That’s.. actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Angela said. “There couldn’t be a weak spot or crack, could there?”
Zarya narrowed her eyes. “My magic is different, witch, not lesser.”
Angela held up one hand placatingly. “I didn’t mean to imply it was.”
“Held up against clockwork army assault for weeks . One itty-bitty Ranger could not break them.”
“And the Junkers?” Angela pressed.
Zarya shrugged one shoulder. “Must not have meant harm.”
Angela’s budding headache worsened to a stabbing pain in the back of her skull. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.“I think your wards need a dictionary if explosions and jailbreaks in the middle of the night don’t count as harm.” She closed her eyes, silently reining in her temper before opening them again. “Maybe they just need to be tuned a little? You know, make them more sensitive to smaller-scale harm than full-on frontal assault.”
Zarya hesitated, tapping her fingers against the counter before shaking her head in defeat.“...Will check tomorrow. See what I can do.”
“ Thank you ,” Angela breathed. “That’s all I’m asking.” She ran a hand down her face.. “I need to check my charms as well,” she said, voice muffled as she stifled a yawn. A finger poked her in the forehead, hard.
“Get some sleep first, witch,” Zarya said affably when she looked up. “You work too hard, yes? Cannot be good for your health.”
“In a bit,” Angela promised. “I have a patient to check on first.”
Angela headed towards Fareeha–no, Pharah . Gods, she really must be tired if she almost slipped like that. She’d needed the name to tether a wavering soul to this plane, and now she needed to forget it before she raised suspicions by knowing what hadn’t been freely given.
“May I?” she asked, gesturing to the empty chair on the other side of the table as she schooled her expression into the calm professionalism she desperately needed.
The Ranger looked up at her blankly for a moment, then hurriedly gestured to the chair across from her with a hand full of papers. “Of course. Sorry. Here, let me–” She shuffled the papers scattered across the entire table to a more manageable half a table. “What was that about?” she asked as Angela sat down.
Angela frowned. “What?”
Pharah tilted her chin towards the bar, even as she continued to glance through the collection of what looked like newspaper clippings, half-scrawled notes, and a few sketches thrown together in some semblance of order that Angela couldn’t make sense of. “The giant woman with the pink hair?”
“Zarya,” Angela supplied before she could think better of it.
“Zarya,” Pharah repeated with a nod of gratitude. “You seemed bothered.”
“You really shouldn’t be drinking with your injuries,” Angela deflected quickly, pointing to the Ranger’s glass.
“Don’t worry, Dr. Ziegler. It’s just juice.” She set the papers aside and tilted her glass to prove her point. She scowled in the direction of the bartender. “She wouldn’t give me anything stronger.”
The corner of Angela’s mouth ticked up in amusement at the Ranger essentially pouting . “I may have had a word with Emily earlier.” She raised a hand toward where the red-headed woman was polishing glasses and listening to Lena enthusiastically expound on the last few days’ events. Emily caught her eye and winked back.
Pharah raised one eyebrow at the exchange. “Do you warn the saloons about all your patients?”
Angela shook her head. “Just the ones I think might be a problem.”
“And I seemed like a problem to you?” The thought seemed to amuse her more than anything.
Angela held up her hand, ticking off points on her fingers.“Well, within five minutes of you waking up, you were already up and walking around, pulling your stitches, and making bets with criminals, not to mention trying to chase down said criminals not ten minutes later after nearly being blown up for the second time in a week.” She looked at her hand, then back at Pharah. “Did I miss anything so far?”
Pharah coughed lightly into her hand before pressing it to her side with a groan. “If it makes you feel better, I’m thoroughly regretting all those today.” She waved off Angela’s immediate concern. “It’s fine, just…aches. You do good work. Speaking of, what do I owe you for saving my life?”
“Oh, that? Nothing.”
“Nothing,” Pharah repeated flatly, disbelief heavy in her voice.
Angela shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t charge people for medical care.”
“Forgive my ignorance, but that doesn’t seem like a great way to run a business.”
“Oh, it’s not,” Angela chuckled. “But I make do. Sometimes people pay me anyway. Sometimes they trade me things like produce or pies or chickens. For everything else, I have a decent inheritance from when my parents passed. I like to think they would approve of my using it to help those in need.” She ducked her head. “Gods know I have little use for it elsewise.”
The Ranger was silent for a long moment, regarding her thoughtfully before she asked, “Chickens?”
It startled a laugh out of her. “I have a small flock out behind my practice now. I’ve never had the heart to eat them.” She shrugged again. “And it’s nice to have fresh eggs around.”
“Well, I appreciate the help, truly. I’ll find a way to pay you back,” Pharah promised.
“You can pay me back by taking enough time to heal up properly,” Angela said pointedly. “That means rest , not running around the countryside.”
Pharah sighed. “I have my orders,” she said quietly, fingers tapping against the papers in front of her. “I can’t just ignore them.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Angela pressed, shaking her head. “Just…don’t ruin all my work putting you back together in one piece.”
Pharah smiled crookedly, but there was little humor in it. “Did the Assistant Director seem like the type of man to wait for results? He said I have until the end of the month to show progress.”
“That’s three weeks away. He can’t possibly expect you to make much progress in that short a span of time given your injuries.”
“I assure you, he can and will,” Pharah responded firmly, tone brooking no further argument. “Best I get to it.”
Angela took it for the dismissal it was, shoving back her chair as she rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you to your investigations then,” she said stiffly. “You have a place to stay?”
Pharah nodded. “I got a room upstairs here when I came in. Seemed more comfortable than a cot in a jail cell.”
“Good. I’ll have Lena run you over some tonics for tonight then.” She held up a hand to forestall the Ranger’s hesitant expression. “I know they don’t taste…great, but they should help with the pain so you can sleep.”
The hesitance was replaced with relief. “I would appreciate that, thank you.”
“I’ll stop by in the morning to check on you. I’d still like to take a look at that shoulder, but another day immobilized isn’t going to hurt it.”
“Of course. I’ll be here.”
Angela eyed the papers still strewn halfway across the table. “Please try to get some rest?”
“Don’t worry,” Pharah said with a tired smile. “I don’t think I could physically keep my eyes open much longer.”
Angela could feel her own exhaustion creeping up on her. “In that case–” She was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. “--Sleep well.”
“You as well, Dr. Ziegler,” Pharah replied around a grin.
“Angela.”
Pharah inclined her head. “Sleep well, Angela.”
Angela stopped by the bar on her way out to relay her request to Lena, who readily agreed to swing by her place in a bit to pick up the tonics. She was looking decidedly less pale, though whether that was due to the drinks or the company, Angela couldn’t tell. She knew the deputy was sweet on Emily; heck, everyone in town with eyes knew that, but she wasn’t sure if Lena had worked up the courage to actually tell her that yet.
Shaking her head, Angela stepped out of the saloon, raising a hand against the blinding glare of the late afternoon sun. If she squinted, it might even be considered a reasonable bedtime. She pulled her pocket watch out and winced. Well, maybe ‘reasonable’ was a bit strong.
She trudged home, a headache building behind her eyes. She’d gotten precious little sleep the past few days, and she could feel it dragging at her heels. Yawning as she unlocked the door to her practice, she skirted past the sparsely furnished waiting room and headed to her office at the end of the hall.
She quickly scanned the array of square shelves filled with carefully labeled bottles, salves, powders, and dried herbs that took up the majority of one entire wall. She pulled out two small bottles and swirled them in either hand to thoroughly mix their contents from where they might have settled, debating for longer than she was proud of on whether to add some of the sleeping draught to the pain tonic before setting them both down with a sigh. She rummaged through her desk drawer for a pen and clearly labeled the bottles with their contents and the dosages they should be taken at. The Ranger could decide for herself whether to take the sleep aid or not. She couldn’t force the woman to rest against her will, despite her worst instincts telling her to do just that.
Forcibly dismissing those instincts as the unwelcome product of an overtired mind, she considered taking some of it herself. Sleep rarely came easy to her, and she didn’t relish seeing the glimpses she’d caught of the Ranger’s nightmares among her own. Eventually, caution won out and she packaged the bottles up in a small padded box with a note for Lena and set them neatly on the desk in her office. The sleeping draught was very effective, and she needed to be alert if there was an emergency in the middle of the night after all.
Instead, she grabbed a packet of chamomile flowers from the shelf and closed the office door behind her with a thud. She headed toward the kitchen only to stare blankly at the cold stove. The prospect of fetching wood and starting a fire just to heat water for her tea was too much. She dumped the chamomile unceremoniously in a cup and filled it with water from the pitcher on the counter. Taking a deep breath, she held the cup up to her lips and blew across the surface of the water until it steamed. She sat heavily at the kitchen table, letting her head fall back as she waited for the tea to steep.
The rustle of paper made her open one bleary eye. She leaned over to find a wad of paper had fallen out of her pocket. She frowned and picked it up. She hadn’t yet had a moment to read the note the mountain of a Junker had tossed her way before lumbering off into the night. She unfolded it gingerly, unsure what it could possibly be about. Familiar handwriting made her sit up in her chair.
He’s back.
-S.
P.S. Now we’re even.
The note dropped to the table from suddenly nerveless fingers. Leaving the rapidly cooling cup of tea on the table, Angela went and locked the front door, not that she thought it would actually do any good. Lena might think it odd when she showed up, but she knew where the spare key was.
Angela leaned her forehead against the door for a long moment, taking slow, measured breaths until her heart rate was under control. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, and she leveraged herself off the door before pulling herself wearily up the stairs to her bedroom, making sure to lock that door behind her as well. Without bothering to undress, she collapsed into bed and hoped against hope for at least a few hours of dreamless sleep. Tomorrow’s Angela could deal with this mess.