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Throughout her years on the battlefield, Angela had earned a total of ten different scars.
They weren’t bad scars, not by a long shot. Small ones, grazes by a stray bullet, cuts from falling too hard when testing out her suit in the early days. They were nothing anyone would think to be the product of violent combat. The fact she only had ten to speak of was practically a miracle in itself, perhaps the lowest number in comparison to her comrades.
There were a few reasons she’d made it this long with so few grievous injuries. Her lack of direct combat unless the situation needed it. Her wings, which got her quickly out of danger. Her tech which made it easier to heal smaller wounds. Her friends who worked to keep her safe, even at cost to themselves.
Like Genji. Genji who had enough scars for a lifetime.
“I’m going to have to repair this plating entirely,” Angela said, lifting up a piece of damaged plating from Genji’s arm. It was intact, but only barely, deep cuts and bullet holes denting the metal. She might have to make it entirely from scratch. After covering up the exposed wires with a plastic replacement, she shook her head. “You could have broken the entire arm.”
“It’s replaceable,” Genji said. He looked at ease in her chair, eyes closed. In Angela’s office, he often kept the eye section of his faceplate open. According to him, looking at Angela through a visor “wasn’t the same.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” She looked over him and shook her head. “If you managed to be more careful, you might be able to keep your plating for almost five years instead of five months.”
“A scolding?” Genji chuckled. “Is this what I receive as thanks for a rescue?”
“Only when you hurt yourself in the process.” Angela moved the damage plating over to her desk and grabbed her notepad, scribbling down what replacement supplies she would need. If she worked straight, it might be repaired in a week. “You don’t have to throw yourself between me and a threat.”
“Last time I checked, Doctor, my arm is replaceable while yours is not.”
“Last time I checked, Genji, my job is to keep you from getting hurt, not to encourage it.” She wrote another item on the list, and then reached up to push her bangs back. If she was a sensible woman, she would cut her hair short to keep it out of her face. Only vanity kept her from doing it now. She let out a long sigh. “Pain is pain, Genji. I don’t wish it upon you for my sake.”
There was a beat of silence. She closed her eyes. God, how worried she’d been, when that omnic appeared and sliced forward into Genji’s arm. How terrified had she been, when she grabbed her gun and shot forward, the same time Genji got the omnic in the side with his sword. How relieved had she been when Genji looked back at her and made a quip about teamwork.
How she hated this war, and how it reminded her everyday of watching her parents fall to a hail of gunfire.
“Angela.” Angela didn’t move. “Angela.” She felt footfalls of something small on her shoulder and opened her eyes, taking in the small green dragon curled around her neck. It looked at her with wide eyes, alarmed ones. When she looked back at Genji he had the same expression.
“I am fine. Just-” She ran her hand down her face. “Please Genji. Do not let yourself be hurt for my sake. Replaceable limbs or not.”
Genji was silent for a moment before he nodded. “I will keep that in mind.” Not a promise but as close as she would get. He moved over on his bed and patted the space her. “Sit? You’ve been standing for a long time.”
Angela did as he asked, leaning back and closing her eyes. She could hear the dragon almost purr in her ear. Genji threaded his fingers in her hair.
“Rest Angela. You have worked hard enough.”
She fell asleep to the sound of both master and dragon humming a song she did not know.