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“Be more careful next time, Mr. Shimada. I don’t want to have to patch you up on your next mission,” Angela reprimanded. The cyborg in question looked up at her, his red eyes looking into her soul. She sewed the final stitch, closing the wound on his left arm. Usually if he had an issue, Genji would go to Overwatch’s cyberneticists for engineers due to most of his body being metallic. Lately, though, he had been coming in to the medbay more and more, with flesh injuries that were Angela’s job to fix. It was...concerning, to say the least, as it seemed he was getting more reckless with time.
“My apologies, Dr. Ziegler. It is not my intention to bother you,” his smooth voice replied after several moments. She taped down the gauze and sighed, turning to look him in the eye.
“You aren’t bothering me, Genji. You’re worrying me. You need to take better care of yourself!”
Once again, there was a long silence as Genji seemed to analyze her face. Although a small part of her still feared that vermilion gaze lingering on her, Angela had long since gotten over the intimidation of it. Blood red clashed against sky blue as they stared each other down in a battle of attrition. She reached up and cupped the side of his faceplate with her hand, softening her features. “I worry that you’ve lost regard for your life. You know that your flesh isn’t as durable as your metal, and yet you come to me more often. In our line of work, you can’t be reckless. Just...please, be careful.”
“They should have made more of me robotic then.” Genji’s voice was grim as he broke their mutual scrutiny. Angela’s eyes widened, immediately turning his head to face her again.
“Don’t you dare say that.”
“Why? It would make me a better weapon, would it not?”
“You aren’t a weapon, Genji! Who on Earth gave you that idea?”
His silence and avoidance of eye contact said it all. She reached up and opened the clasp of his faceplate, pulling it away so she could observe his face.
“Genji, look at me.”
Reluctantly, he flicked his eyes towards hers.
“You are human. I don’t care what anyone else says, I don’t care what you say. You are not a weapon, you breathe and you bleed and you think. You are human, do you understand?” Angela’s heart ached for the man, wanting nothing more than to take away his pain. But it would take much more than nanobiotics and bandages to heal his troubles, and she wasn’t sure if he even wanted her help beyond that.
That’s when the dove was so shocked when this miserable sparrow with broken wings leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder.
“...I...I’m sorry, Dr. Ziegler…”
A gentle, pitying smile found her lips as she wrapped her arms around her friend.
“Don’t be.”