Angela's Betrayal [DF x Mercy]

Rest, Angela

As time went on, their connection deepened. She had taken her place within Talon's base, overseeing a clinic that offered aid to their operatives. He would occasionally visit her, finding her immersed in her work—developing and perfecting her nanobiotic healing. It was on one of these visits that he noticed something amiss.

He observed her meticulously, noticing the faint lines of exhaustion beneath her eyes. Her dedication was undeniable, but he also recognized the signs of overexertion. He stepped closer, his voice holding a concerned edge. "You're pushing yourself too hard, Mercy."

She looked up from her work, her expression a mix of surprise and determination. "I have a duty to fulfill, Doomfist."

His tone softened, a touch of frustration slipping in. "Even the strongest need to rest. You have been working too hard, Doctor. I don't see why a simple nap would hinder your progress."

She shook her head, the lines of exhaustion deepening. "I can't afford to rest, not when there's so much to do."

He sighed, his patience waning. And then, with a decisive movement, he reached out, his gauntlet-clad hand gently grasping her wrist. She started to protest, but before she could, he lifted her with surprising ease, her back pressed against the soft surface of the bed.

Wide-eyed and taken aback, she stammered, "D-Doomfist, what are you—"

His voice was stern but tinged with a touch of fond exasperation. "You need to rest. I won't take no for an answer this time."

"I told you that I'm fine. I don't need sleep right now because there's a research I need to continue on-" But her eyebags is clear to him that she hasn't been sleeping properly.

To answer her words, he lean into her face and shut her up with a kiss, a long one that didn't meet any resistance and instead just a shock. "I told you, go to sleep. You have been working hard, healing and taking care of the talon members every time we're done with a mission. Doctor, if you are sick then who will cure you?"

"Well... I don't want anything to do with Moira after all..." She shook her head and pouted, really want to continue working on but it's clear that he won't stop trying to put her to sleep. 

"See? Now close your eyes. Be a good doctor and practice what you preach." He removed her lab coat and toss it aside so he can pull up a blanket over her body.

As if realizing her protests were futile, she sighed, her defiance giving way to a begrudging acceptance. "Fine, but this doesn't mean I'm giving up."

He gave her a half-smile, his grip gentle but unyielding. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With her settled on the bed, he leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was equal parts soft and firm. It was a kiss that held a silent promise—a promise of rest, of care, and of the understanding that they were in this together.

When he pulled back, she was left breathless, her cheeks flushed. He met her gaze, his voice gentle but insistent. "Rest, Mercy. You've earned it."

She nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Alright, you win this time."

As the weight of her exhaustion finally settled, she closed her eyes, a sense of safety and warmth washing over her. And by her side, Doomfist remained, a silent sentinel in the night—proof that even in the  world is shrouded in shadows, moments of connection and care could still find their way to the surface.