Chapter Text
Genji was jealous. He was not a jealous man by nature, but there were some aspects of being human that would never leave him, no matter what parts made up his physical body. He thought even more of his organic pieces could be replaced by artificial fibres and wires and everything else that had been built into him, but he would still feel the same way. He couldn’t help it.
Every single time he saw Jack Morrison laugh - he was a ray of sunshine when he laughed, and Genji knew it - or smile at Gabriel Reyes’ side, Genji felt a twinge of pain in his chest as he wished he was there instead. It was a deep ache that he tried his best to ignore, but at night, he was lonely.
He didn’t hold it against Jack for being who he was. In fact, Genji quite liked Jack. He was kind, friendly, and overall a positive person. He treated everyone well, Genji included. As Angela was a staunch advocate for peace, Jack was the same way with justice and doing good.
Jack and Gabriel were two very different people. But Genji didn’t need to hear the rumours, didn’t need to see them kiss or touch to know of their relationship. He could see it in Gabriel’s eyes. Nobody else made him light up the same way. When Gabriel looked at Jack, his gaze was nothing but love, pure love and adoration that could never be hidden by his cold exterior. When Jack elbowed him or cracked a bad joke, he acted gruff and uncaring, but those eyes hid nothing. They were dark and deep and rich and a beautiful shade of brown. Genji could get lost in them for hours.
He never had the chance to, of course.
Gabriel was one of the few people who made eye contact with him, solid eye contact that most others couldn’t do simply because of the mask. It was hard to make eye contact with someone when you couldn’t see their eyes, even if it was clear where they were. Angela was the same, always making eye contact, and she had a warm gaze. But when Gabriel made eye contact, it was dramatic. It wasn’t warm; it was hot like fire and Genji knew that Gabriel would never look at him the way he looked at Jack, but Genji could tell he cared. When Gabriel made eye contact, Genji knew Gabriel cared about him. Whatever cold, dismissive, or downright harsh words were coming out of his mouth, no matter if his brow was furrowed or if his fists were clenched, there was the lightest note of softness and Genji could always, always see it in his eyes.
He’d watch Gabriel and Jack walk around together, getting breakfast or heading to the gym or just chatting about nothing. They were best friends, as far as most of the world was concerned. Of course they would spend so much time with each other. Beside each other. And they were careful, too. Genji was a stealth expert, could be sitting and relaxing in a room and not be noticed by other occupants, but not once had he seen Jack and Gabriel show affection towards each other. Some of their words could be seen as flirtatious, if anyone really wanted to read into it, but they didn’t hold hands or anything. Genji had trouble believing Jesse’s claim, sworn on his mother’s grave, that he’d seen Jack and Gabriel kiss. Once. When they’d assumed they were alone.
Even Genji, who spent much of his time watching Gabriel as subtly as possible, had never seen the two make their love for each other clear. Not physically, though in other ways. For starters, Gabriel didn’t smile genuinely for many people. Nor could many people make him smile genuinely. A few times Genji had seen Gabriel smile and he swore each time that he’d sell the heavens to the devil if he could only see Gabriel smile again.
Genji could no longer deny to himself that he wanted Gabriel. He wondered if Gabriel knew it. It was unlikely; Genji had excellent self-control and didn’t betray the truth even in one-on-one conversation. He was sure if people could see his face it’d be easier to see his crush, but thankfully they couldn’t. Genji hadn’t told a soul and he held his secrets close. His sole confidant, his older brother, wasn’t exactly available for deep, heart-wrenching conversations. So Genji loved, and he loved in secret.
His gaze often lingered on Gabriel’s ass and thighs. He wondered if Gabriel wore those pants, that Blackwatch uniform, just to drive others up the wall. All things considered, Gabriel likely had a hand in designing or at least choosing the outfit. He looked good in it. Genji wondered if Jack thought the same, if Jack had told him in private before tugging those pants off. Damn. He had one fine ass, he really did. Genji wasn’t so shy as to prevent himself from staring, especially when Gabriel did that thing where he put his elbows on the counter to talk to someone on the other side, and his back was arched a little and, well, Genji could stare at his backside all he wanted.
If he’d give up the heavens to see Gabriel smile, he wasn’t even sure how much he’d give to sleep with Gabriel. Maybe not even sleep, but just to service him. Even if it was only once. Genji would give anything, he thought, anything and everything if he could only worship at the altar that was Gabriel’s thighs. And he’d do it without hesitation, if only Gabriel asked. Genji would not waste a single second in being no more than a submissive, devoted servant to his god. If only.
During his reconstruction, he had been pretty neutral on the matter of being able to have sex. He had bigger things on his mind. Namely Hanzo, but also his task to take out his family’s clan. Angela hadn’t insisted, but she seemed rather enthusiastic about the idea, about all the potential tests that could be run. It wasn’t everyday they could examine a cyborg whom they’d built. Genji didn’t really understand her and the rest of the science types around Overwatch, but he’d relented. He was rather fond of her and supposed one day, maybe he’d want to have sex with reckless abandon again.
He was amazing at satisfying others sexually, and he knew it. If he’d learned anything from his youth, it was that one: he was great at sex, and two: Hanzo’s favourite food was peaches.
There was so much Genji was willing to do for Gabriel. He knew Hanzo wouldn’t approve, but then again, Hanzo approved of maybe three or four things, maximum, in the whole wide world. Sometimes Genji wondered how Hanzo would react if Jesse flirted with him as Jesse was a shameless flirt. He found it an amusing thought to entertain because Hanzo would never, ever reciprocate.
Genji’s fingertips rapped against his cup of tea. The cafeteria tables were lonely in the late afternoon. After lunch and before dinner, few ever occupied the room as they had more important work to tend to than a snack. One of the trainees had dozed off at another table, strands of their hair spilling into their noodles. At the sound of loud footfalls - Genji would recognize those boots anywhere - he perked up.
“Captain Reyes,” he greeted, standing and bowing.
The other trainee sprang to life at the sound of that, clearing their plate and leaping out of the room. Gabriel watched them go, brow furrowed in disapproval.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Gabriel,” he said, sitting down across from Genji.
Genji’s heart fluttered. This meant something, didn’t it? Something? Gabriel preferred to sit alone when Jack and Ana weren’t around. Angela was one of the few who dared to sit with him and engage him in conversation despite his prickly demeanour. Most others didn’t bother trying.
“How was work today?” Genji asked.
“Fine,” Gabriel replied gruffly.
That response hardly warranted another reply to go with it, but Genji shivered on the inside. He loved the sound of Gabriel’s voice. Would he keep talking, if Genji replied? Or would he clam up, as he did sometimes to show he didn’t feel like making conversation? It wasn’t as if Genji wasn’t used to that kind of silence; Hanzo hadn’t been the best talker. He’d solved his problems by sword. Genji wondered if Gabriel would appreciate the potential innuendo there. Genji knew he’d certainly appreciate Gabriel trying to sort this out by sword.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Not today. Are you worried about me?” Genji asked, resting his head against his hand.
Gabriel glowered at him. “No,” he said. “As your superior officer-”
“You’re not my superior officer.”
Gabriel took a deep breath, and looked down at the table to deliver his order to the touchscreen menu surface.
“Is something the matter, Captain Reyes? I am not trying to antagonize you.”
“None of your business,” Gabriel snapped. Genji smiled under his mask even though he knew he shouldn’t have. Gabriel continued, “I don’t make it a point to remember everyone else’s schedule, but I know you’re supposed to be working most of the time.”
Genji laughed. “You do not need to be concerned with my daily activities, Captain Reyes,” he said.
For a while, Genji, head still on his hand, relaxed. Gabriel ate, checked the weather on his phone, read up on the news. It projected out in a hologram and the newsperson’s voice added a pleasant din. Genji’s finger tapped soundlessly against the table. He could hear a part of his internal systems whirring.
“Aren’t you going to drink your tea?” Gabriel asked before spearing a French fry with his fork.
“Hm?” Genji asked, not even bothering to look away because Gabriel had looked up to say that. And his eyes pulled Genji in. There was a certain magnetism to him...
“It’s getting cold,” Gabriel said.
“Of course.”
“You shouldn’t waste food or drink.”
“What are you eating, Captain Reyes?”
Gabriel looked down at his plate as if seeing it for the first time.
“Pollo a la Brasa.”
“Is that food from your culture?”
“No.” Gabriel frowned. “Drink your tea,” he added.
Genji, still smiling, rolled his eyes before reaching behind his head. He removed the mask, set it on the table with great care, and sipped his tea. It was lukewarm. Gabriel had really long eyelashes. Genji’s face didn’t flush; he had good self-control, but, well... maybe he got just a little bit more red.
Gabriel prodded at his salad. He watched Genji smiling at him for an analytical moment before returning to his food and resuming the news broadcast. There was a fire somewhere. The department was putting the building out.
Genji ordered more tea. Gabriel ate his chicken. Genji thought that the universe must be very, very kind to him. He traced with his eyes the curves and angles of Gabriel’s face. Those cheekbones, that nose, his lips, his jaw. Genji wished he could press his palm against Gabriel’s cheek and feel him, his heat, just feel him. Touch him. He was so, so beautiful. Genji wanted to plant kisses on his eyelids and nibble his ear and hold him and...
“Something the matter?”
“No, Captain Reyes,” Genji replied immediately.
Gabriel looked suspicious but didn’t press the matter.
Genji eventually put his mask back on and he stared because he couldn’t get enough of Gabriel Reyes, he stared and he stared and he fantasized and wished because he was hopelessly in love. He would miss Gabriel when it was finally time to be sent off to Hanamura for his ultimate task. He wished he could ask for advice, what it was like to fight and hurt and kill with a purpose in mind, what it was like to be on a mission. But he didn’t.
Instead, he kept staring.
Was it freeing to cut people’s arms off? Was it freeing to cut people’s lives short? Blood sprayed the air and leaked down, down, down into the ground. Soft thuds as bodies fell. Sickening crunches and cracks as bones were snapped in half, fragmented into countless tiny pieces.
Genji let go of the man’s wrist, the wrist with the now broken watch and now broken bones.
That hadn’t been very professional.
Before his mind was fully aware of what he’d heard, he’d darted back into the shadows. Voices floated by. Statements turned to exclamations turned to shouts. Warnings rippled past, dissolved, until Genji could hear no more Japanese. It was all a muffled drone in his head. He might’ve hummed to himself, a peaceful tune from his youth. Perhaps a memory, a tune in a television show he and Hanzo used to watch, or a song they used to sing together.
Cut and cut and cut. More blood, more bodies. Back into the shadows. There were so many people here tonight, and they were all so fragile. Genji watched the dark crimson pool expand beneath a person’s neck, one of the people, it didn’t matter which. Their suit was stained.
Genji knew he didn’t have to kill everyone, not really. He could’ve divulged secrets, then blackmailed people. He could’ve found other ways to suppress his family’s criminal empire. Overwatch had given him free rein of the mission. He was his own boss and it had been a risk they’d been willing to take. Genji had chosen the fastest route out: mass murder.
Another person shouting and yelling. Genji flexed his wrist, turned, fired. Two of the shuriken had punctured the person’s lung. A third, their throat. They fell and coughed and bled and - Genji was so far gone he wasn’t sure if he’d really heard it or not - prayed.
One more person. Three more stars. Thunk, thunk, thunk. What a mess. Someone would have to clean that up, and maybe they would, if anyone in the building was still alive. Genji made the rounds again. He didn’t find anyone new. He left.
For a while, Genji waited. The weight of his deeds drifted with him. Sometimes he imagined each individual whom he’d killed as another spirit floating behind him, whispering to him, asking him why he did it. In time, their voices faded. Not because he no longer felt guilt for murdering them, but because he’d both grown numb to their cries and had other things to worry about.
He knew Overwatch wanted him back.
He knew they wouldn’t force him if he didn’t return. He’d almost finished fulfilling his duty, after all. It seemed they understood that to force him back would be akin to caging a wild animal.
Genji looked out at the city, neon lights and skyscrapers gleaming and glimmering in the night. The monorails sped past. Cars honked. Life went on. Genji knew his job was almost done. He was running out of people to kill, if he wanted to think of the matter bluntly.
He poked at his takoyaki. It was cold. He didn’t have to eat it. Actual fuel was more efficient for his cyborg body, but he didn’t feel like a person if he stopped eating for too long.
He knew he wasn’t going back to Overwatch, and it hurt his heart to know that. It hadn’t been too long since he’d last updated Overwatch on his mission status - nearing completion - and it hadn’t been too long since he’d had a conversation with Angela. She always set aside time to talk to him, and Genji appreciated that. But a part of him hurt and he knew why, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
He missed Gabriel.
On nights he was alone, he thought of Gabriel. For a little while, as his systems cooled him off, he felt less lonely. He hoped that Gabriel was happy. That he and Jack were treating each other well, if they were still together.
If.
Genji was ashamed to admit it, but that ‘if’ gave him a sick sense of hope. He knew Gabriel had been happier with Jack than without, and yet... He still wished it could’ve be him in Gabriel’s arms. He wished it could’ve been him in Gabriel’s bed, listening to him mumble sweet nothings in Spanish.
Genji flexed his fingers. He wanted them to be intertwined with Gabriel’s.
If he didn’t return to Overwatch, would they ever see each other again? It seemed unlikely.
If he didn’t see Gabriel again, would he get over this crush?
He wasn’t sure.
A woman and an omnic, both in suits, exited a restaurant. Genji climbed down from his perch, which had been the dark windowsill of a tall building, and dropped down to tail them. He added two to his mental tally. He could already hear their voices enveloping him. Those imagined voices would be louder right after the kill. That was inevitable.
In time, they would fade.
They always did.
Genji was in Norway when he heard. Overwatch was on its last legs now, wasn’t it? Without Jack and Gabriel... Even though Genji had abandoned the organization, hearing about its oncoming demise didn’t exactly cheer him up. He didn’t want to accept it, even if it was all over the news. Some cried. Some were grim. Some were happy.
“Overwatch is a threat to world peace,” an angry man had said on the news. “We’re all better off without it.”
But Genji felt as if part of him had just been torn away. Had Angela been at the Swiss headquarters when it blew up? He soon found out she was safe, and that was a relief. How many were dead? From this destructive infighting, how many people had lost their lives?
Genji stared at the screen. Clips of the wreckage, still smouldering. Had that really been it? The Swiss HQ? It seemed like just yesterday Genji had been there. For how long, for what job, he didn’t recall, but that had to be it. He recognized it.
Gabriel Reyes was dead.
Genji didn’t want to believe it. He knew very well that if anyone was to survive that awful explosion, it would be Gabriel and Jack. That wasn’t hope against reason; that was the simple logic of the matter. Those supersoldier enhancements they’d been subjected to... Maybe there was a chance.
In a few days, Genji saw the news talking about the funeral service for Gabriel, Jack, agents of Overwatch. Agents of Blackwatch. He turned his phone off and sat for a while. He felt numb. He didn’t feel anything.
How many years had it been? He remembered the last conversation he’d had with both of them, both of them who had been there to send him off. He’d known he’d be in Hanamura for a while to fulfill his duty, and he told them, told everyone he’d miss them.
Then he completed his mission, turned his back on Overwatch. He could’ve gone back. He could’ve gone back, and he could’ve seen everyone again. He could’ve seen Gabriel again. It had been so long since he’d last seen Gabriel and now he was dead.
Genji would never get to see him again.
He almost laughed to himself, because hadn’t he told himself he’d get over this crush?
So that was what had become of Hanzo. Genji had known they would fight, because fighting was in Hanzo’s nature. Though he had to admit he’d been hoping Hanzo had mellowed with age. But... this was the man who annually honoured the person he’d tried to kill with his own hands. Or sword, to be exact. Genji lingered on the castle roof, where he knew Hanzo wouldn’t check for his presence. He hadn’t needed to do that since they were teenagers, when Genji would hide to annoy him.
Hanzo was inside. Maybe he was praying. Genji laughed, he actually laughed out loud at the very thought. No, of course not. Brooding seemed much more likely. He was tempted to visit next spring to see if Hanzo would be here again. It was possible, wasn’t it? Amidst these familiar cherry blossom trees, petals falling, it seemed anything was possible.
As for what Hanzo would be thinking or doing, Genji couldn’t say.
The moon was great and pale. Genji leaned back against the roof tiles to count stars. He hummed a song to himself, something from his childhood. Back when he and Hanzo watched television shows and sang songs together. It had a peaceful melody.
Genji could almost hear Zenyatta’s voice. Talking to him about his anger, his inner turmoil, the conflict he had with himself and the parts of him that were machine. The parts of him that were still human. He was still human.
He stretched a hand out to the air, turned it, and observed his palm. He flexed his fingers. He tapped at the white plating. He rested his hands back down, one on top of the other, over his chest.
The stars glimmered. He continued humming.
Overwatch had issued a recall.
He thought about Gabriel.
He closed his eyes.
Genji had made it a habit to keep up with international news. He thought it was good to be aware of the world around him, especially now that Overwatch was reforming. In secret, of course; it was very much illegal and Genji didn’t take that lightly. If he was going to be honest, he didn’t really want to go back to Overwatch. All it did was remind him of what he’d done so many years ago to his family’s clan, and Gabriel’s death.
If he was going to be honest, he wouldn’t call it ‘mourning’. No, hearing about Gabriel’s death had broken his heart.
The emotional scars still hurt when he thought about it.
He tried not to think about it.
Genji would tell Zenyatta just about anything. He trusted the omnic, he really did. He knew Zenyatta was a good person, understanding, trustworthy. But he’d never told Zenyatta about his feelings for Gabriel, which persisted still.
The wounds stung less now. It had been years since Gabriel’s death, so of course it hurt less. The pain faded slowly but surely. It would be a gradual healing process, but he had to believe the shock wouldn’t cling to him forever.
Genji picked up the photograph he kept of himself and Hanzo. Himself with bright green hair and that orange scarf Hanzo had given him, Hanzo with those silly bangs and looking grumpy as ever. His arms were crossed. Genji was smiling. The sun had been shining that day, bright in a clear blue sky. The air had filled with laughter - Genji’s, of course. But he’d gotten Hanzo to laugh with him eventually. He always did.
Genji wished, when Hanzo was in Hanamura, he could’ve swung back down into the castle and... talked. Not about anything serious. He didn’t want to think about any serious topics. But he missed joking around with Hanzo, and Hanzo occasionally joking back. Genji relaxed. Maybe one day.
He laced his fingers together.
Maybe one day, he and Hanzo could talk again. Then Genji could finally tell someone about what had bothered him for literal years. Every time Genji thought maybe he could forget Gabriel and Overwatch and Jack and Ana and Gabriel, he saw in his mind’s eye Gabriel’s smile. Then his resolve would crumble, and he’d hurt again.
Gabriel had the most beautiful smile in the whole world. Genji’s hands balled up into fists. If only he could see it again. If only he could move on. If only Gabriel was alive. If only, if only, if only.
There was so much happening in the world. Genji had yet to get in contact with Overwatch proper, though he’d learned it was Winston who’d sent the recall order. That made sense. He didn’t think it could be Jack, what with him being dead and all. There were quite a few stories about the omnic crisis in Russia, rising tensions between humans and omnics, and the terrorist group Talon. Maybe all of this was why Winston sent that message out.
Genji kept a close eye on the news. He was worried about his former comrades, though he knew they were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. But he did miss Angela dearly, hoping she was doing good now. Zenyatta often asked him what was bothering him. Sometimes they’d talk about it. Sometimes Genji just wanted to meditate and be alone with his thoughts before they melted away. He had so many thoughts.
He heard Gérard Lacroix’s wife, Amélie, was a part of Talon. Genji felt like he’d known this for a while, but had never really considered it. Talon hadn’t been his business; that had been the Shimada Clan. He wondered how much of a threat the group was.
On another day, another time, he heard of the Reaper. Or maybe it was just Reaper. He wasn’t concerned with the semantics. He was concerned about Winston, though he knew Winston was fine now. Whatever had gone down in Watchpoint: Gibraltar, whatever had happened in his fight with Reaper, well, that situation was defused.
A black-robed terrorist leaving death in their wake. How scary. There were all these dangerous people out and about, and Genji thought maybe he should do something to help. Or was that an idea he’d been imbued with from having spent too much time around Ana and Jack?
He studied the palms of his hands, hands he’d gotten used to having and had accepted. He knew he could help the world, if he tried, he could help. His head swam with the possibilities before he got up to look for Zenyatta.
“Master, how do you feel about travelling?”