Summer Of Whump Day 10 - Tumblr Posts
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I’m afraid I’m gonna die down here I can’t save, I can’t save myself Get me out, get me out of Hell I’m suffocating waiting for you - Out of Hell [Skillet] Summer of Whump 10: Trapped | Fandom: Overwatch (Pre-Fall) | Angela / Gabriel TW: Injury, Child Death
AO3 | FF.net | Works
Angela woke to pain and screaming. Blearily, she tried to figure out what was happening. Something was screaming, a discordant, high pitched noise that made her head pound and stab with pain. Then there was a man yelling, possibly words, but she couldn’t quite focus on the sound to determine what he was saying over the wailing. There was a weight, just shy of painful in places, all over and around her body. Her whole body hurt, and for some reason that struck her as wrong. She shouldn’t hurt. Angela tried to move her arms, to push herself up so she could properly look at the children – why were there children? She didn’t have children – and found she was unable to. Angela was trapped under rubble, braced on arms and knees. She was surrounded, physically incapable of moving. There was pain – why was there pain? And then – why would pain be surprising? While her body was frozen, tightly cocooned by the debris surrounding her, she found her head could move, but only a little. The debris around her made it difficult to do anything, and when she did move her head, it sent spikes of pain and waves of dizziness through her. The feeling was temporary but disconcerting all the same. Steeling herself, Angela shifted her head so she could look around at the claustrophobic space. A faint glow from above her provided enough illumination to see the blood splattered and oozing around her. It made sense that there would be blood, considering how horrible she was feeling. With some straining, she could just peer down at the children that were underneath her. There was a red faced, wailing toddler and a silent baby in a bag. That the baby was silent wasn’t right, but she wasn’t sure why at this moment. Maybe if everything would just be quiet, she could get her thoughts in order. The most pressing of the noise was the child, whose shrieks were only worsening the pain in her head. Angela tried to smile down at the toddler, but her mouth didn’t feel right. She probed at the inside of her mouth and found it swollen; that would make her task all that more difficult. “It – It’s alright.” Angela murmured brokenly down to the girl. She wasn’t sure if it was intelligible through the swelling, but the tone was right at least. “Doc!” The man was back, his voice a shout in her ear. She winced at the sudden noise. “Ya with me, doc?” Angela wasn’t sure how to answer that question, so she settled for an affirmative noise. She smiled down at the child, trying to get her to stop crying - to get the noise to stop. “We’re lookin’ for ya right now, don’t you worry. We’ll have you out fast as lightnin’, you’ll see.” She hoped that meant quickly, because she had a sinking feeling that time was not on her side in this hole. “Wha–” Angela coughed, wincing at the flare of pain the action sent through her. “What happened?” There was a moment of silence on the other side, and Angela wasn’t sure if it was out of surprise or if it was because the man was trying to figure out how to explain her situation. She took that time to coo down at the child, ignoring the rasp of her throat as she tried to soothe the girl. Something must have worked, because the toddlers’ cries slowed before stopping altogether. “You were up in a buildin’, lookin’ for people. It came down, and you were inside o’ it.” Right. Italy. It was coming back, slowly. Leaving Zürich the day before, climbing through buildings, operating through the night. “Must’ve hit your head pretty bad there, doc.” It would explain the headache she was nursing and how off she was feeling. “It’s bad.” Angela agreed. It took her a few tries to get the words out coherently; something must have hit her face when she fell – no, landed. Nothing had hit her when she was falling. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened. The man tried to speak, but she silenced him with a noise; she needed to gather herself before she could give him anything. She just had to think for a minute.
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Angela blinked. There were people above her. She could hear voices, swearing and yelling at each other in various languages. What– Right. Italy. Collapsed building. They were working on getting her out; if she could just hold on, it would be alright. “Cas – Cassidy?” She coughed out, forgetting that her mouth was swollen and words were hard to form. It didn’t matter if the name was understandable or not, though; her voice had gained her instant attention from the cowboy. “Welcome back, doc.” There was relief in his voice. “Ya with me this time?” What an odd turn of phrase. “Yes?” Angela managed to make the word a question; talking was hard enough as it was. If she could avoid the extra effort of elaborating, she was going to. “Y’been in and out for a while.” That wasn’t a terribly good sign, even if it was an expected one. She had fallen eight stories. Cassidy continued when it was obvious that she wasn’t going to say anything. “Lieutenants’ here, helpin’ us dig. Captain sent us a guy t’fix ya, a Rem-somethin’?” Remington. Good. There was no one else she could think of that had more experience at triage care than he was. If anyone could get her extracted, it would be him. “How’s it lookin’ down there?” Now that he had mentioned it, there was quite a bit of blood shining in the glow of her wings. Angela had noticed it before, but now it had more meaning. Some was dripping from her chin, while more had oozed from the rubble pinning her left arm. Angela craned her neck down, as much as she was able anyway, to see if there was any problems she might be able to spot. She couldn’t see much of her body, but there was blood there, between the children’s feet and where she knew her knees were. The suit was doing an excellent job of keeping her coherent, even if she was still dazed, but it did nothing to help her determine where or to what extent she was hurt. The pain was deep, throbbing and stabbing. It was like – Angela’s eyes widened briefly before she blew out a shuddering breath. It was like Venezuela, right before Gabriel had stripped her suit from her. Not quite the same, but bad enough to terrify her. At least in Venezuela she was easily accessible – once the shooters were down, of course. Here, it could be hours before she was fully freed. “That bad, huh?” It was either the prolonged silence or he had heard her ragged breathing as she tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. Passing out would do her absolutely no good and would not change the situation. “Y – Yes.” Angela tried not to sound panicked, but she was buried in rubble and, quite probably, actively dying. There was nothing any of them could do until they could get her body freed and allow Remington to do what he did best. “It’ll be okay. We can see bits of ya, so it won’ be much longer, alright?” Angela’s lips twitched slightly in humor; how kind of him to try to console her. Then again, he was rather trapped in listening to her – maybe he just didn’t want to listen to her break down. Not that she particularly wanted to break down; there were far too many people above. Even now, with her body shattered and blood splattered, she stubbornly was trying to keep face.
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Remington hadn’t been able to do much triage on her, trapped as she was, but he had brought a surprise: Ana had told him to locate and bring her healing stream along. Once he was able, he had used the tool on her head. While the tool wouldn’t be helpful for many of her wounds – it wasn’t powerful enough, for one thing – it at least gave her a clear head and made her capable of communicating clearly. They were still excavating her legs under Remington’s watchful eyes. Angela wasn’t sure how long they had been digging, but it felt like an eternity. The toddler below her had fallen asleep at some point, and not even the noise above had woken her. Worried, Angela had reached out to check that she was breathing. As far as she could tell – which wasn’t very – the toddler was fine, just asleep. Now that her head was healed, Angela was deciding whether to call home or not. It felt selfish – was selfish – to pull them away from their considerable duties to be given information they could, mostly, see with their own eyes. But trapped here, watching her blood slowly ooze closer to the child beneath her, she wasn’t certain she would survive. Angela knew that a persons’ will could play a part in their survival, and no one was more stubborn than she was – but no amount of will could counter blood loss. Finally, she allowed herself to fish the communicator out of the pouch – hoping it wasn’t broken. It was selfish, this was selfish, but she settled the communicator on the ground before her anyway. Angela hesitated over Gabriel’s name, but eventually passed him. As much as she wanted, needed, to talk to him, she could not afford it. He could shatter what little control she had left, and right now she could not give in. Instead, she selected Ana’s name. “Captain Amari.” Angela’s lips quirked up briefly with faint humor. One of these days they – to include her if, no when, she got out of this – would check the communicator before answering, instead of just providing their name and rank. “Ana.” Nothing in the world could have kept the exhaustion from her voice; Angela hoped that it masked the undercurrent of fear. Normally, with Jack and Ana, she would try to avoid allowing her emotions to seep into her voice – no need to let them think she was completely unprofessional, considering her relationship with Gabriel. But this time, she would allow it – mostly because she didn’t have a choice. “Angela!” There was a mixture of worry, joy, and relief in the snipers’ voice. Then, a brief commotion in the background – she could hear Jack and Gabriel, though she couldn’t make out what was being said. “How b–” The voices were growing louder, but she still couldn’t determine what was being said. “You may speak with her when I am finished.” Ana’s voice was muffled, as if she had covered the communicator, but nothing could hide the sharpness of her words; the men quieted down as Ana turned her attention back to the doctor. “I’m sorry about that, Angela. How bad is it?” Unsurprising that Ana would skip asking if she had been found; with the number of cameras at her disposal she wouldn’t be surprised if Ana could tell her exactly how much debris had been removed and how much remained. Instead, she had cut to the heart of the matter: survival. “Terrible.” What a small, insignificant word to describe it. “Lost a lot… of blood.” Angela wasn’t sure if it was a significant amount, considering she had no idea if her legs had been damaged, or a whole host of other information. There was a strangled sound from the background – she was pretty sure that was Gabriel. Apparently, Ana had put her on speaker. Angela wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it was too late now. “It is not – not critical. Yet.” As ever, she was trying to soothe others, even when she could be dying. “It hurts.” She added, almost as an afterthought. “I know, dear.” Ana soothed gently, and Angela realized her voice was much weaker than she had intended it to be. “Do you have your staff?” Angela glanced down to where she had tried to shelter the tool. The parts that she had managed to cover were fine, but she wasn’t sure how bad the damage was. “Yes, but… it is probably broken.” Angela forced down the spike of anxiety. While the loss of the staff was a tragedy, both for herself and any others she could have applied it to, it could be fixed. Ana clicked her tongue sympathetically, and Angela could imagine the sniper shaking her head. “Remington will take good care of you. He has your healing stream, and from what I recall he is one of your favorite medics.” Angela was grateful that she had decided to send one of her most experienced combat medics on this relief. She didn’t know what to say in the silence – she had made her report, which had been the only unselfish task she had been able to think of to justify a call. “You will come home.” Ana ordered firmly into the void, realizing the doctor wasn’t going to speak. Home. If only she hadn’t left, she wouldn’t be in this mess. She should have just gone back to bed and let someone else do the work for once. But the exact reason she had gone was what had made her who she was. It was her duty to care for others, whatever the cost. Staying home when she could make a difference was not who she was – even if the good she had done here could not outweigh the good she had yet to do. It was catch twenty-two between her conscience and what she saw as her duty, in which either choice would cause her to win – and lose. “I – I don’t–” know if I will make it. The words died in her throat, choked by a sob that she had tried to swallow. “I just–” want to go home. Angela drew in a deep, ragged breath – she could not give in to the emotion. It could hover around her, but she could not let it loose. That had to wait until she was safe, until she was home – oh, she wanted to go home. Until then, she had to be Dr. Ziegler – because in her world there was no place for emotions. “Breathe, Angela.” Her eyes darted up towards the communicator, as if she could see him. “You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe for me.” Angela was surprised at how calm he sounded, when she knew he was just as terrified as she was. He had never taken her injuries well, and she had expected this to be no different. Perhaps because he couldn’t actually see her – there was no way the cameras could see her in this hole – made the difference. Angela didn’t know what to say, so she closed her eyes and tried to breathe, to collect herself, like he had asked. She didn’t know if she could say anything, not here and now. Gabriel was the only one she allowed to see her at her worst – and if he was here, now, she might break in front of everyone. He was a huge comfort to her, but he was also a liability to the control she was barely clinging to. “Are you still with me?” He asked, and she had a sudden memory of the two of them on her couch as she relived Venezuela. How appropriate, considering her body felt just as battered as it had back then. It was an image she doubted Gabriel would appreciate, so she’d keep that to herself. “For now.” Angela replied hoarsely, as truthful as she could be in this situation. Who knew how long that would last? Gabriel made a strangled sound before going silent. She could imagine him running his hands over his face, the top of his head, trying to compose himself in the face of her injuries – and him, stuck miles away with no way to help. Maybe he wasn’t holding it together as well as she had thought. She didn’t know how to make this better – couldn’t make this better. She was trapped, miles and miles away from home, and she hurt. Even if she wanted to be some form of comfort, Angela couldn’t find the words. “Gabriel, I – I have to go.” Calling had been a mistake, a selfish action that had resulted in nothing but more pain. She had enough pain for three people – or, rather, she would, if she weren’t wearing the Valkyrie suit. “Angela, don–” He tried to stop her, but her trembling fingers had already made their way to the communicator to end the conversation. Before she could stop herself, to give into temptation, she turned it off. Angela was in no position to be answering questions from anyone and she knew Gabriel would call her back immediately on his own communicator. Then she scrubbed angrily at her face, wiping away the proof of her terror and smudging blood across her cheek and chin.
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She could have cried with relief when they removed the last bits from her back and head. Considering how much time she had lost, going in and out of consciousness, she had no idea how long it had taken. Her legs, wings, and left arm were still trapped but the pressure had been reduced. She was able to relax her muscles from the position she’d locked herself in – but only a little, considering the children beneath her. Angela realized that, with the release in pressure, she could move her right arm; when she had pulled the toddler closer it had managed to be sheltered by the wings. Unfortunate that her left arm, flung out haphazardly to keep her upright, did not share the same fate. She shifted her weight to the left and onto the wings so that she could lift her right arm. Angela frowned at the blood that began dripping down her arm, but there was nothing she could do about the gash in her bicep or scratches along the arm right now. She wouldn’t have made the effort if it weren’t for the children below her. Angela had noticed something odd when she had first awoken. Dimly, she knew what she had seen – but she had to be certain. Carefully she shifted and gently stroked the infants’ cheek – noting absently that one of her fingers was broken. Though she had known what to expect, it did nothing to change the horror she felt when her fingers met cool flesh. Angela knew the child had been alive on the eighth floor, so it had been under her care that it had died. That it would not have survived the fall without her was of no comfort at all; she should have done better. Angela had landed so hard she would have bruises, at the very least, on her knees and had been thrown forward violently enough to break fingers. The child hanging at her stomach would have hit the ground with considerable force, with nothing but a flimsy bag to protect it – which was no protection at all. “What’s wrong?” Cassidy asked urgently. She must have made some distressed noise without realizing. “I–” What could she say? Words could not convey the despair she felt in this moment – and even if they could, she would not say them here. She had killed an infant. Could it get worse than that? Angela cleared her throat uncomfortably, but it still took two tries before she could say anything. “Nothing.” The word was notably unsteady. “Doc.” It was surprising how much reproach he could stuff into the three letters. Still, Angela was nothing if not stubborn. If she could avoid it, she would hide her despair from everyone. This was a sin blacker – redder – than the ones she had carried previously. This infant would join all the ones she had failed previously. “Don’t.” The word was so soft she wasn’t sure the microphone picked it up. Don’t push. Don’t ask. Don’t try to make her talk about it. Don’t break her more than she already was. She was far too vulnerable to be pressed on such a subject, with her blood spilled across the rocks and her heart slashed to ribbons for the child she had failed. Even now Angela was scrambling to push the ragged pieces of herself down and away to that place she could deal with later. It was hard to keep it locked away – emotions and thoughts that could not be afforded kept slipping out of that deep place in her soul – but it was necessary. “I am fine.” She had to work to enunciate the words clearly enough for him to understand. Although there was nothing reassuring about her tone, he stopped pressing anyway. With one hand – that had a broken middle finger – it was rather difficult, but she managed to fasten the bag around the infant shut – if only so she would stop staring at the poor child. Its eyes had been closed, but she could feel the accusatory glare even through the cloth. The toddler was easier, in that she was still alive, and harder because she was awake and uncooperative with her probing. Angela knew the child would need to be thoroughly examined – the landing had to have damaged her in some way. Aside from a few scratches and some bruising where smaller chunks of debris had slipped past her wings to strike the girl, there was nothing serious that she could see. Children were, usually, resilient and could bounce back from a lot, but she was doubtful the girl would come away completely unscathed. It was a tragedy that the same could not be said for the girls’ sibling.
So this set is literally why it took me so long to get Chapter 17 done; my brain just would not release the idea of “she should fall and get extra hurt”. Unfortunately, her recovery time (for bones and such) just didn’t work well with my plans - and that doesn’t even begin to cover the damage to her hands and how bad that would actually be. Still, I think it’s pretty great so I didn’t want to scrap it - now here we are. Of course, I’m a few days late (story of my life) - but better late than never