Welcome to the first story of my 'Expanded Overwatch Universe'! For timeline/continuity help, please check out the end of this chapter ;D

A/N: The wonderful cover art was created by the amazing Saro (lostlegendaerie) on Tumblr!

Dr. Angela Ziegler was a brilliant surgeon; on a scale quite unmatched by any other. Nobody could do it like Dr. Ziegler, and as such, her talents took her to places across the globe as her heart drove her onward, toward more patients. Toward more people in need of aid.

Indeed, her travels took her across the globe, but her paths would often cross each other in regions of particularly persistent violence, to the point where such areas became rather familiar to her- a fact that bothered her somewhat.

She had dug deep into her work, now that Overwatch had been disbanded, in an attempt to quell the demons that she found within herself. Finding it easier to simply ignore them, rather than confront them, Dr. Ziegler worked, or rather toiled, day in and day out, the fettered appendages of victims and other humans, their bodies near-lost to weaponry, providing to be a simple distraction.

Another troubling fact was just her cold she had become, more so to the violence that was so prolonged in the world. While Overwatch was anything but an embodiment of pacifism, she partook only due to her own drive- that perhaps she could save more lives through the harming of others. Obviously, as she saw nearly daily, that was not the case.

This constant cycle of hypocrisy -being party to violence, as well as driving to end it- weighed incredibly heavy of Dr. Ziegler's mind, and in her most private moments, it nearly crushed her. Though, she had learned long ago to hide such things. The "E" stood for "emergency", not "emotion", in those coldest and drabbest of rooms.

These days, she found herself in the Middle East, driving constantly around, stopping only to aid those on either side. The jeep she had commandeered wore the various insignias of neutrality, and in a third chilling reality she'd realized, she had become so recognized by the local factions, enough so that she would easily find injured children being carried up to her, desperately, whenever her foot touched the ground. Known as the "Desert Angel' in various tongues here, they had all become her enablers of sort; the constant fighting only serving to force her deeper and deeper into that cavernous space within her mind.

On this day, she had stopped in a small village and, after answering a question or two about a local boy's fever, she had begun to park up her equipment, pulling the automatic translator from her ear, giving it a thankful glance as she always had done. Another constant reminder that her talents weren't exclusive to only humans.

"And there's another one down," she muttered to herself, ruminating on the day as she zipped up the duffel bag that accompanied her at all times.

She stared off into the distance, her loneliness becoming as much of a drug as anything she carried. Hopping into her jeep, she pulled out her phone to see a message from one of her contacts within a global humanitarian group, noting a nearby village that was in need of assistance. While exhausted, it was something she was hoping for- another assignment.

She arrived, shortly, before a man in a white outfit walked out of the larger tents of this particular nomadic group. Angela hurried stepped out from her jeep, hastily wrapping her duffel bag around her shoulders just as the man noticed her, waving her along.

"Dr. Ziegler," he acknowledged as she came within earshot, "Dr. Testarossa. Happy to have you."

Angela nodded back, "Do we know what's wrong?"

Testarossa cocked his head to the side, admiring her to-the-point reaction, "An infection, but I'm not entirely comfortable performing any kind of surgery in these conditions, especially on a child. Knowing you were around, I thought I ought to leave it to a professional."

"Big words, coming from you," Angela retorted, flashing her eyes toward the emblem stitched onto his coat.

He only shrugged, "There's are some things we mere mortals cannot to."

Hiding a grin, Angela began heading into the tent, dropping her bag at the entrance, just away from Dr. Testarossa's path as he followed her in. His two nurses were standing on either side of a makeshift cot with a small boy, already under sedation. Ascertaining the situation, Angela quickly pulled out a small device, placing it onto the edge of the table. A small cylinder popped out from the top of the metallic box, before a ringed laser shot out from it, moving up and down the room, before returning to the top.

"That takes care of any airborne pathogens," Dr. Ziegler spoke up, "Doctor, if you would."

Dr. Testarossa followed her up to the table, opposite her, his eyes squinting hard as he watched how fast her hands worked. In fact, instead of hiding off tools to him, Ziegler simply dropped them off onto the table for him to collect. The only time she was slowed was on the occasion that Testarossa had taken just a second longer to hand another piece of equipment to her.

The two nurses were just as shocked, though while Testarossa watched her with a studying glare, these two simply looked on in amazement. Finally, Dr. Ziegler rushed a suture up the boy's leg, covering it with a bandage and antibacterial salve, before collecting her tools, allowing the flabbergasted nurses to take over.

"I've heard stories," Testarossa began, "But to see such a thing…"

Ziegler shrugged, "It's nothing."

"It's everything!" her counterpart spoke up louder, "If every doctor had the ability to do such things, anybody could perform surgery within a one -man team!"

Ignoring him, Angela gathered her things together and walked back out into the burning sunlight, covering her eyes, only to be taken aback by two people rushing up to her. The parents of the boy began speaking desperately, the father grasping her hand and shaking it as his eyes pleaded with her. She reached up to her ear, realizing that her translator was missing, but Testarossa arrive soon enough, speaking authoritatively in their language.

Suddenly, the two began to cry, falling to their knees and thanking Angela, reverently, before she actively pulled herself away from them, "Tell them it's not a big deal."

Testarossa watched her for a moment, but ultimately reached down to the two parents, reassuring them, and directing them into the tent. He stared at Angela, who seemed somewhat shaken, as she began, again, back to her jeep.

"Pray you don't have to do what I've done," Ziegler muttered aloud, "I don't think I'll ever save enough lives to justify the ones I ended."

She threw her duffel bag into the back of the jeep, turning to Testarossa, who only watched her with a serious stare, "It's not a talent you want to live with."

He shrugged back at her, "If I could save one life, I'd do anything."

Ziegler smirked as she hopped into her vehicle, "It had better be a pretty big life, then."

She began driving off, stopping only to say, "Thanks for the help."

The doctor only nodded before watching her go off on her own way, the Desert Angel vanishing into the brightly lit horizon.

Driving through the dunes gave Angela a nice sense of seclusion, complimenting nicely the nice feeling of freedom as she ran quickly across the earth. In these moments, she was easily her most relaxed, especially if she was on her way to another assignment, but without such things, it only allowed her mind to wander backwards, so she simply sped up, trying to pull her mind in the same direction as her.

Her phone began to go off, and the wheels of her jeep grinded to a soft halt above the sands. As the dust flew past her, her head fell backwards into her seat, an exasperated sigh exiting past her lips. As she returned to check her phone, her hand ran up her face, massaging herself, before seeing the name of 'Winston' appear on her phone.

Her lips contorted in confusion. They'd remained in contact, though she wouldn't have ever expected much in the way of personal business with him, at least these days. She answered, her eyes closing at the potential implications as her head leaned back to rest on her seat, sighing lightly just as Winston's voice broke through the line.

"Angela!" shouted his boisterous voice, his enthusiasm resulting in the good doctor pulling the phone from her ear.

She replied, rather disdainfully, "I can tell how long it's been by how unused to that shout I am."

After a fit of laughter, Winston apologized, "Sorry, sorry, doctor! Look, I know you're busy, but you're the only person close enough for this task. You wouldn't mind checking out a potential recruit, would you?"

At that, Dr. Ziegler needed to hold in a scoff, "Recruit? What are you planning?"

Winston stuttered, "I -er-… That was a poor word. There's a former Helix Security member, of whom myself and the others have expressed, uh, interest. As such, she's currently in Cairo, in need of an escort up here. If you'd be so kind."

His voice wavered a bit, signaling his insecurity, but he was only met with a quick sigh before Dr. Ziegler responded, "I guess. I need to restock myself, anyway, I guess I can bring him along."

"Excellent!" Winston shouted in approval, again resulting in a rapid movement from Angela, "I trust you'll ascertain an accurate psychological profile on the way here?"

The doctor shrugged, "You mean talk? That's mostly up to them, isn't it?"

The was a silence on the other end, but Winston finally broke through, "I mean, you've been rather...you know, lately."

Angela turned toward the rear-view mirror, catching a slight glimpse of herself as she sighed deeply, "I know… I'm sorry; it's just been a long few years. You should know better than any of us how much easier it is to fix others."

"Oh, you're referring to-"

"ANGELA!"

At Lena's absolutely earth-shattering voice, Ziegler actually dropped her phone as her hand ripped away from her head, though it quickly reached down into the floor to grasp it again.

"-SAID YOU WOULD-" "-CAN GET OFF THE COMM!"

Angela stared off with squinting eyes, understanding what exactly this new "recruit" would be getting into by joining this group, in any capacity, in fact. Still, she couldn't help but grin a bit at the antics that would often warm her heart back in those days. It took her back, to happier times, without forcing her back into a broodish state of grief.

Leaning against her jeep, Angela stood outside the massive façade of the airport, awaiting her guest. She pulled her wrist up, checking the time, and groaning at the growing tardiness, a trait that was unacceptable back in medical school. Every minute was another reminder of the professor's rather harsh punishments for such offenses.

Standing there, clad in sunglasses, she simply crossed her arms, her lips pulled to one side in frustration, her eyes carefully keeping track of all the bodies walking past her. Finally, with a slight turn of her head, she noticed somebody walking in her direction, dressed awfully well for travel. In a suit. In a desert. In this heat.

It was probably just another traveler, probably a loony, having dressed up in a long-sleeved suit, almost. She ignored them and turned to the other end, continuing to watch, her eyes once again pacing down the wall of the airport, but as they moved along, she suddenly noticed that same woman approaching her directly.

"Sorry," the woman spoke up, embarrassingly, "I was busy looking for a sign or something. You know, like usual."

Angela stared at her, "Are there many Swiss women who just stand outside CAI?"

The tall woman laughed lightly, though with a twinge of that previous embarrassment, "I suppose not, no."

Figuring this to be her target, Angela reached up to pull off her sunglasses, folding them away as she reached out a hand, "I'm Dr. Angela Ziegler. Pleasure."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," the woman spoke, excitedly, as she took her hand, "I'm a big fan. Is it true you ended an epidemic so fast that etymologists the world over had to invent a word to describe the lackadaisical scale of the disease?"

Unfazed, Angela stared at her plainly, only speaking after pulling her hand away, "Things had to be done."

Without question, Angela reached out and took the woman's suitcase, though not without resistance, as she suddenly spoke up with a nervousness, "I-I can handle my stuff! I don't mean to put you out, doctor."

Angela suddenly noticed that the woman was, indeed, rather larger than her, in both height and muscle mass, so she acquiesced, simply directing her toward the back to settle her suitcase, which she did.

"Oh, uh, I'm Fareeha, by the way. Fareeha Amari. I sort of missed that; sorry."

Angela shrugged, "It was in your case report, after all. Speaking of, you do know why you're here correct?"

"Yes ma'am! I am to-"

Dr. Ziegler's stare prompted her to pause quickly, allowing the doctor to speak up, gravely, "Don't call me ma'am."

Fareeha gritted her teeth at the response, but Angela quickly diffused the situation with the same efficiency she would out to use on the operating table, "Please."

Feeling rather miffed now, Fareeha simply followed her host into the vehicle, stepping into the passenger's seat. She sat up straight, holding her hands on her lap, clasped together, with the same posture of a schoolchild afraid of the slightest movement causing trouble.

"So," Angela spoke up as the jeep's engine flared up, "You know why you're here?"

"Er, yes-" Fareeha trailed off, as though forcing herself to relinquish her honorifics, "-I'm, uh, sorry about a second ago. I didn't mean any disrespect; I've just been trained, more or less, since childhood to be respectful to my superiors and-"

"Okay," Angela interrupted, "First, I'm not a superior. I'm doing this as a favor to an old friend. And old friend. I do not participate in active combat, I'm no longer affiliated with…that group anymore. All I am, to you, is somebody driving you to a helicopter bound for Gibraltar. That's it."

Fereeha sat there, a bit uncomfortable, as Angela sighed aloud, shaking her head, "Second, I apologize for being so standoffish. It's not personal; there's just more things I'd rather be doing."

She returned to the road, missing a subtle smile from Fareeha as she replied, "I understand. We all have our demons, I suppose. To answer your question from earlier, that's why I'm no longer employed with Helix. Just too much baggage there, emotionally. Well, physically too, but…"

Angela's lips contorted painfully, "Overwatch isn't the organization to go into if you looking to avoid such things."

Glancing toward her, Fareeha's voice quietly rose from a soft reply, "If I have any say in it, that won't have to be the case."

To that, Angela laughed, hunching forward in her seat, "Do you know, at all, how many times I told myself that? It's easy to say, now, that you'll protect those around you, but that day you finally get it drilled into your head that you can't protect everyone, you'll life will never be the same."

She shrugged, pointing to herself, "And then you turn into this."

Fareeha watched her, carefully, "Are you assuming I haven't witnessed death under my watch?"

A slight grimace appearing upon her face, Angela realized her slight miscalculation, "Be that as it ma-"

"No," Fareeha interrupted, "I've seen death myself, but that only drives me to be better. That's why I accepted this invitation. I would go to the ends of the earth to protect those who are helpless."

Remembering the good doctor's words just a few hours ago, Angela shot her guest a side-long stare, an ironic look forming at her eyes. She returned to staring at the road ahead as a silence formed between the two; Angela from being backed into a corner, and Fareeha due to respect. Despite this exchange, Angela couldn't help but feel a light sense of respect for this woman, if only because she reminded her so much of herself form years past.

"Not all helpless people can be protected with a gun," Angela muttered, slightly, a silence falling upon the two once again, though this one was filled in much sooner, "You have so much to learn, Amari."

'Reign From Above' begins a lengthy series of stories that I've been weaving throughout the Overwatch universe, and it would be best to read them in order, as certain events get referenced or drawn upon in later stories. So, I would recommend these to be read in this order:

'Reign From Above' or 'Lacroix' or 'Gravitate' - 'Madness/Outback' - 'Christmas at Tracer's' - 'Deadlocked' - 'Incomplete Talon Story' - 'Finale'

Hopefully this will all turn into a freakishly epic story for you all to enjoy :) I've been at this for about a year now, and as much as it all has consumed my free time, it's been an absolute blast to think up all these characters and tales. I hope you have a blast reading them.