Chapter 13 Eyes see the truth.

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Angela's POV Several Years Ago

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Angela looked at Gabriel, brow furrowed with concern. "And what does he want?"

Gabriel leveled her with a tired look, lowering a stack of papers he'd been reading. Frustration was evident on his scarred face as shaking fingers rubbed the dark bags under his eyes.

"The Department of Special Operations has been trying to get their hands on him for 10 years now. The Janissary Act enables us to take him into custody - regardless of what he wants. It's either service or execution." He didn't hesitate in laying out the stark ultimatum.

Sliding the stack across the desk, Gabriel allowed Angela to read through the mission report. Her eyes scanned the documents, settling on an unfamiliar codename.

"What about this second member... Elizabeth Caledonia? 'Ashe'?"

"During the chase and subsequent arrest, after the boy was knocked from the gunner's seat, their armored vehicle lost control and careened into a nearby canyon." Gabriel's voice was devoid of emotion. "Search and rescue efforts are ongoing, but forensics says due to the river at the bottom, finding any remains is unlikely."

Angela nodded solemnly before changing tack. "I'd like to discuss something with you."

Gabriel glanced at the clock briefly before arching an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.

"Moira was deployed for the extraction, and due to the trauma and risk of infection, the arm was amputated. But reviewing the footage, it seems to me the injury could have been treated on-site with a biotic pack. The amputation was unnecessary."

Leaning back, Gabriel sighed - a gruff, weary exhalation. A cold, calculating expression settled over his features.

"He is extremely skilled with firearms, far more so than most of our agents. Frankly, it's a massive security risk leaving him intact and armed." He paused, letting the implication linger before continuing.

"Higher-ups thought it better to keep him alive, but...removing his arm and outfitting him with a cybernetic limb that can be remotely deactivated was deemed the logical solution. If he attempts escape or turns his weapons on us, it leaves his capabilities severely handicapped."

Angela slammed the documents down, anger flashing across her face.

"This was your plan all along! To cripple the poor boy and make him a puppet by dangling a new limb over his head? What were you thinking?!"

Gabriel rose, towering over her as his own temper flared. "I was thinking he's a wanted man in four countries who has killed several of our infantry! It wasn't my idea to bring him into Overwatch - if it were up to me, he'd be in prison or worse. But he has exceptional talent, and now he has a chance to redeem himself."

Leaning in, Gabriel's intense gaze bored into Angela's. "I've requested you be made his personal physician through recovery and rehabilitation until his new cybernetics are fitted. You'll be tasked with psychological evaluations as well. Are you willing to do this...or should I have Dr. Deorain attend to him instead?"

The unspoken threat hung thick in the air. Angela's fists clenched, knuckles whitening, as she fought to maintain her composure.

"I will see to his recovery," she ground out through gritted teeth. "I don't want Deorain anywhere near the infirmary."

Not waiting for a response, Gabriel turned and strode from the office, leaving Angela alone.

The sharp tang of antiseptic assaulted Angela's senses as she strode down the infirmary hallway. Each click of her heels against the tile seemed to echo interminably in the unsettling quiet enveloping the ward

A soothing hint of lavender wafted through as the air conditioners activated - a small, familiar comfort that allowed some of the tension to bleed from Angela's shoulders as she approached the closed door.

Clutching the patient file firmly against her chest, she grasped the handle and pulled, the latch giving way with a faint bell-like chime that cut through the stillness.

Angela stepped over the threshold, and her eyes immediately landed on the crumpled, motionless form of an omnic doctor sprawled gracelessly across the floor. Jagged dents and gouges marred its chest chassis in a manner that could only be the result of a fight.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze raked over the scene. There, by the toppled IV stand and the tray of scattered medical tools, she spotted the source of the damage - an indentation in the omnic's torso the unmistakable size and shape of a human fist.

A rustling sound snapped Angela's attention towards the privacy curtain sectioning off the bed area. It billowed softly with each perceptible movement beyond the fabric partition. Accompanying the rustling was an unsettling gnawing, tearing sort of noise that set Angela's heart racing.

Slowly, carefully, she trailed her fingers along the edge of the curtain until she grasped the fabric firmly. With a measured exhale, she pulled it aside just enough to get a clear view.

The sight that greeted her was one of almost startling normalcy after the wreckage just outside - a young man with tousled brown hair and the faintest dusting of peach fuzz along his jaw line. He sat upright in the hospital bed, movements slightly frantic as he shoveled food from a plastic tray into his mouth with an unrestrained hunger.

Crumbs scattered across the bedsheets with each increasingly sloppy bite. It was as if he hadn't eaten in days and was desperate to cure his ravenous appetite in that moment. An empty glass tumbler lay on its side, a few stray drops of water slowly trailing across the tray's surface.

"Good morning, Mr. Cassidy."

Angela's soft voice seemed to slice through the tension like a whipcrack. The young man startled, very nearly tumbling off the edge of the bed as he whipped around towards the unexpected presence.

In that instant, Angela found herself pinned by the most disarmingly calm yet inscrutable gaze. His brown eyes studied her with an intensity that bordered on confrontational, missing not a single subtle shift or tell as they openly assessed her like a targeting computer she felt a chill as his eyes met hers.

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Angela's POV Modern Day

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Angela snapped out of the vivid memory, blinking rapidly as she refocused on the present. Leaning forward on the kitchen countertop of the apartment she shared with Lena, she absently swiped away the banner notifications from her research partner popping up on her phone.

Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the live video feed from the building's entrance buzzer. There, framed in the grainy camera image, stood a familiar young man shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Despite the low quality of the camera, those calm, studious blue eyes were utterly unmistakable - the same inscrutable gaze she remembered so vividly that reminded her of a familiar sensation.

This time, the blonde was clad in a bright blue tracksuit, white t-shirt visible underneath. He seemed to be scanning the area around the apartment entrance, casting furtive glances up towards the windows every few seconds.

The sound of a door opening behind her made Angela turn. Lena emerged from her bedroom, already dressed in yellow and black workout gear - a cropped tank top and fitted leggings that accentuated her lithe, athletic form.

Moving towards the kitchen, she pulled a clear orange water bottle from the fridge and gave it a shake, catching it deftly as she tossed it into the air. Only then did Lena seem to register Angela watching her, an inquiring look on the doctor's face.

"I'm heading out," Lena stated simply, shooting Angela a warm smile.

Angela's eyes roamed over the workout attire pointedly. "going to the gym?"

Her tone was kind, touched with the faintest undercurrent of maternal concern. Lena didn't appear to notice, already halfway towards the door.

"Just going for a run, gotta kick the calories, you know?" She tossed the teasing remark over her shoulder with a wink, the exchange so casual and familiar.

But as she rested her hand on the doorknob, Angela couldn't help but press further, an inexplicable unease prickling at her instincts.

"You haven't worn that outfit in a long time. Do you have a new running partner I don't know about?"

Lena visibly paused at that, her back stiffening almost imperceptibly. When she responded, it was without turning around fully.

"Nah, just gotta clear my head, is all."

Her tone was light, dismissive, but Angela frowned as she studied the set of Lena's shoulders, the tension there. She knew that posture, had seen it before when Lena was keeping something from her.

"Well, have fun then," Angela replied, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice entirely. "Stay safe out there."

Lena flashed her a parting wave and a brilliant smile over her shoulder as she ducked through the doorway. "Always do, love!"

The door clicked shut behind her, and Angela was left alone, chewing her lip pensively. Her gaze drifted back towards the buzzer camera, catching one last glimpse of the familiar blonde figure before the feed blinked to black.

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Brian's point of view

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Brian fumbled with his keys, fingering the new pink figurine attached to the keychain. Hana's parting words echoed in his mind - "Take this. If we play again and I beat you, I want it back."

He smiled faintly at the memory of her shoving the $100 bill between the bunny rabbit's paws before ushering him out of her apartment.

"Good morning."

Lena's voice made Brian nearly jump out of his skin. He spun to see her striding past, not even breaking stride as she called over her shoulder.

"Come on, we've got to move."

Weaving effortlessly through the light foot traffic on the sidewalk, Brian had to jog to catch up, falling into step just behind Lena's brisk pace.

"So am I square?" he asked hopefully. "You said be there or be square, and I was..."

Trailing off at Lena's confused look, Brian waved it off with an embarrassed chuckle. "Nevermind."

"So what did you want to talk about?" he tried again after an awkward silence.

Lena didn't even spare him a glance, eyes focused ahead as they crossed another intersection. "Just wait until we get to the park."

Brian simply nodded, sticking close as Lena turned another corner onto an empty side street. Though they had already covered several blocks at a brisk pace, she seemed utterly unfazed - Her breathing was measured, a light sheen of sweat just beginning to bead on her brow.

In contrast, Brian could already feel his heart pounding, lungs straining to keep up. He snuck a sidelong glance at the back of Lena's head, trying and failing to be subtle about admiring the fitting athletic gear that clung to her toned figure.

Get a grip! She's your friend...your very attractive, deadly friend who could probably kill you in about eight different ways without breaking a sweat...

Shaking himself from those hazardous thoughts, Brian pushed himself to run up alongside Lena, offering a friendly smile despite his own sweat-drenched hair plastered to his forehead. She cut him a sidelong look, eyes narrowing as a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth before refocusing straight ahead.

Brian's own grin slipped at her cold demeanor. Had he done something to irritate her already? Steeling himself, he concentrated on matching her quickening pace stride for stride, refusing to be left behind.

Though his calves already burned with the strain of keeping up, Brian pushed himself to his limits as the park's black wrought-iron gates finally came into view ahead. With a final burst of speed, he pulled up alongside Lena, lungs heaving as they crossed the entrance threshold.

Too focused on not face-planting, Brian misjudged his momentum and pitched forward ungracefully. A strong hand gripped the back of his shirt collar, abruptly halting his forward descent and yanking him upright with enough force to expel what little air remained in his lungs.

Before he could even splutter out a breathless "thanks", Brian found himself slammed back-first against the rough bark of a nearby tree trunk. Lena pinned him there effortlessly, forearm pressed across his collarbone as she glared up at him with stormy intensity, their faces now mere inches apart.

"So, I'm going to ask you a few questions," she stated in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down Brian's spine despite the sweltering heat. "And you're going to answer honestly. Got it?"

Keenly aware of Lena's proximity, the unmistakable strength coiled in her deceptively lithe form, Brian felt himself redden for entirely different reasons than their impromptu workout.

"Not again," he muttered in a strained voice as Lena leaned in closer, applying more pressure against his throat to pin him more firmly against the tree.

"Are you with the press?" She demanded.

"No!" Brian gasped out immediately.

"Are you a stalker?"

He shook his head adamantly. "No!"

Teeth gritted, Lena searched his expression intensely before continuing her interrogation. "Then why is it you keep running into Overwatch members, mate? What's all that about?"

Brian couldn't help but notice how her British accent grew more pronounced the more agitated she became. He swallowed hard, trying in vain to stem the misplaced fluttering in his chest at how perilously close their bodies were pressed together.

"I-I don't know! I'm just trying to relax, I don't try to run into you all on purpose!"

Lena's eyes blazed with barely contained impatience. "You better not be lying to me."

The quiet menace in her tone, the raw power radiating off her in waves - it all made something twist low in Brian's gut. He bit his tongue hard to regain focus.

"Listen," he pushed out in a strained rasp, eyes imploring. "I'm not with the press, I'm not a stalker, I swear. Anything that's happened has just been...chance encounters."

Her piercing gaze didn't waver, but Lena seemed to consider this for a long moment, shoulders rising and falling with each measured breath.

"Then why do you seem so damned involved with Overwatch members? Are you some kind of spy… or a playboy?"

Brian immediately shook his head, the back of his skull scraping against the tree bark with the vehement denial.

"No! No, I promise you, I'm not! I just—" His voice cracked with desperation, face flushing hotter as he forced out the humiliating admission.

"I just think you're really cool, okay? Ever since that museum thing, I've been a huge fan. When I run into you or other agents, I get excited because you all are heroes and-."

He trailed off in a mumble, mortified gaze fixed on a point over Lena's shoulder, unable to meet those blazing eyes. But her next words snapped Brian's attention back to the present in an instant.

"So you're trying to flatter me into going easy, is that it?" Lena scoffed in disgust, pressing him harder against the trunk to emphasize her point. "Flattery will get you nowhere, mate."

"It's not flattery, I swear!" Brian insisted, firm despite his compromising position. "I'm telling you the truth! You have to believe me, I'm just...i really like being with you."

He swallowed hard before forcing out the final, damning admission in a small voice.

"And maybe...maybe I was looking forward to seeing you again after you slipped me that number at the coffee shop..."

The silence that fell between them was deafening, broken only by the ambient sounds of the park around them. Lena stared up at Brian, brown eyes widening almost imperceptibly as she processed his guileless confession.

For several endless heartbeats, they remained frozen like that - breathless, strung taut between the charged crackle of tension and uncertainty.

At last, Lena drew a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back, dropping her restraining arm and allowing some precious space between their bodies. Her expression was indecipherable as she studied Brian with a clarity that seemed to strip him bare, leaving him exposed and profoundly vulnerable.

"So what are your intentions then?" she asked evenly, a desperate undercurrent just audible beneath the unwavering professionalism. "If not a stalker...or Press...why the coincidences? Why me?"

Brian's mouth worked soundlessly as he struggled to find the words, the confession. He opened and closed it twice before finally croaking out a tremulous reply.

"Because...because you make me feel... Alive. Like anything's possible if someone like you exists."

He let out a shaky exhale, gathering his courage.

"And I guess...I was hoping if I got to know you better, I might finally find something that makes life make sense."

The words hung heavy between them, laid bare alongside every messy truth and yearning Brian had been bottling up since their first fateful encounter. Lena seemed to study him intensely before nodding once, slowly.

A contemplative silence fell between them as Brian seemed to wrestle with finding the right words. Lena watched him intently, her earlier hostility giving way to curiosity as the first golden rays of dawn crested over the horizon.

"Listen, I don't really... d-" Lena started, then Brian shook his head, waving his hands. "No, no that's not what I meant."

He exhaled heavily, raking a hand through his sweat-dampened curls as he tried to organize his thoughts.

"It's difficult to explain. But I'll try..."

Trailing off, Brian's gaze grew distant, inward-looking as he appeared to mentally revisit their previous encounters. When he spoke again, his voice was soft but insistent.

"When we spoke for the first time, I really enjoyed it. The conversation, the connection - it just...felt right, you know? And then when we met again after you showed up at my place after pulling that all-nighter, it's like..." He hesitated, cheeks pinkening slightly. "It's been all I can think about since. Like someone in this world finally gets it."

Lena arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Gets what, exactly?"

Brian's throat bobbed with a nervous swallow, eyes cutting away evasively as he seemed to wrestle with some internal turmoil. Finally, he forced the words out in a rush.

"Gets what its like to be trapped in time you know? Always focused on the past. I do want to keep meeting with you, talking with you. It just...it feels nice, you know? To have someone who understands what it's like being..."

He trailed off again, features twisting slightly as he struggled to voice the sentiment weighing on him. With a resigned sigh, Brian sank down to sit cross-legged on the dewy grass, squinting up at the lightening sky.

"You've always been the one thing that stayed the same," he murmured, so quietly Lena almost didn't catch it over the rising chorus of morning bird calls.

Shooting her a sidelong glance, Brian seemed to make up his mind about something. Before Lena could respond, he was laying back fully, using his hands as an impromptu pillow behind his head to stare sightlessly up at the kaleidoscope of pale pinks and blues streaking across the dawn skyline.

For a long moment, Lena simply studied the unusual young man stretched out beside her, venetian blind shadows still throwing harsh lines across his dirt-smudged features. She found herself searching for any hint of deception, of threat - but found only sincerity and a surprising quiet melancholy reflected back at her.

Slowly, as if almost against her better judgement, Lena lowered herself to mirror his reclined position on the soft grass. Pillowing her head on her palms, she fixed her own gaze upwards, appreciating the beauty of the fleeting sunrise spectacle as it painted the city in warm, living color.

"I like talking with you too," she said at last, so softly it was nearly inaudible over the swelling morning chorus enveloping them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena caught the ghost of a smile playing across Brian's lips at her whispered admission. She felt her own mouth quirk upwards in response as they lapsed into a comfortable quiet, simply basking in each other's presence while the rest of the waking world came alive around them.