Remembrance (Overwatch: Reaper x Reader)

Chapter 7: The Reaper

I couldn't sleep at all. Everytime I tossed and turned, pain shot through my shoulder causing me to jerk awake every few hours. I had managed to patch it up just a little, enough to control the bleeding, but I knew I needed the assistance of an actual doctor.

It was dawn now, and I managed to drag myo It of bed. My eyes had heavy bags beneath them, and my skin was paler than a vanpire's. I struggled out into the hallway, groggily dragging my feet.

     "You okay love? You look hypnotized!" Tracer blinked in my path, pouting slightly. "No wait, I could do better."

With a snap of her fingers, she blinked back in time before reappearing in her original spot. "Like a walking zombie!" She scratched her chin, "No wait—"

     "Lena," I grabbed her arm. "You did fine. I just need—could you go get Angela?"

     "Dr. Ziegler? What's wrong love?"

     "Just...go."

I shooed her away, a faint smile creeping itself onto my lips as I watched her zip away. I felt the blood alright dampening my clothes as I ran my fingers over the torn skin. 

     "(Y/N)?" I looked up quickly as the sound of Angela's soft voice.

     "Mhm?"

     "Lena told me you needed some assistance." The angel motioned towards the wound as if asking permission to examine it.

I nodded without another word, allowing her to guide me down the opposite corridor to her office. 

     "So, what happened?"

I froze in my tracks as she opened the door to her office. "Um...I-I fell?" I smiled softly, clasping my hands behind my back as the sweat began to slide down the back of my neck, "I-I was helping Winston, and um...I fell over a rack of test tubes."

She didn't even acknowledge me as she took a pair of medical scissors and started cutting away at the sleeve of my shirt. I raised an eyebrow as she gasp, throwing her hands up to her mouth. She quickly strode to the corner of the room, wetting a cloth in the sink before soaking it in disinfectant.

I winced as she dabbed it over the open wound, wiping the crusted blood off my skin. "I...I can't believe this happened," she murmured. "Oh (Y/N), he'd swore he'd never hurt you..."

     "What?" I blinked, "N-no! Winston didn't do this, I told you--ow!"

    "I'm putting you off for missions for a few days," Mercy sighed, tightening gauze around my arm rather carelessly. "Come back tomorrow for a--"

     "Angela!" I pulled away from her, holding my newly wrapped injury before narrowing my eyes at the Swiss doctor, "Why would you think Winston would hurt me?"

She cast her gaze away from, pushed back a strand of her golden hair. "It's not important, not now, at least."

     "Ange--"

     "How are you holding up?"

     "What do you--? Oh." I stepped back, "I'm doing just fine, Doctor Ziegler." 

                                                                                 .    .    .

I tried to keep a straight face, I tried to be strong. But as we entered the bus back to the aircraft, I felt a tightening sensation in my chest. One I could not explain. What if it was him, instead?

I turned to stare at Commander Reyes. His eyes were staring forward, his gaze fixated on the scene in front of us.

     "Um, how many?" I bit my liked nervously, almost drawing blood, "If you don't...mine me asking, sir."