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Genji and Junkrat could not be more different from one another if they tried.
The Japanese was worried about junkers joining their circles. Less worried about the reputation Overwatch would gain if they hired two of the most wanted criminals of recent history, he was self-aware enough to know that this would apply to many of even the old members of the organization. No, it was more because these men had dangerously loose trigger fingers in the face of anything that even resembled a robot.
His master has preached him optimism. "Difficult problems often require strange solutions. I'm sure we will find two competent companions in these two gentlemen, even if they don't get along with us. But who knows. They might learn to coexist in harmony. Deep inside, everyone seeks peace after all."
Zenyatta was blessed with a patience Genji was never able to achieve.
Especially when it came to the younger one of the two, Genji's peaceful mindset only went skin deep. While the large man in the pig mask was mostly just a quiet giant who had liking towards little animals and radiated a strange energy that told Genji "Fuck off or I will fuck you up.", the one that looked like a weasel was a real menace.
No, that would be an insult to weasels.
The man, Jamison Fawkes, was a nasty person. Wild and untamed like a stray dog, inexplicably always looking like a charred piece of coal and always yelling in such a high volume that the cyborg seriously wondered if the man needed a hearing aid.
Despite that, there was a certain amount of respect in him towards the younger man. He couldn't explain to himself how Fawkes taught himself the handling and creation of explosives in the deserted, low-resourced part of the outback, but he did. And even more impressive: He was good at it. Of course nothing about his methods was safe, he had caught a glimpse of his work space once and saw a huge mess of chemicals and random metal waste. But as long as it carried results most of the members of Overwatch seemed contempt.
But even those who work with fire tend to get burned as well.
It was the first Friday of the month. Check-up day for Genji. Not the most pleasant event to look forward to, but a necessary evil.
His synthetic body might have been made partly off of omnic parts, but he was not built like an omnic. Doctor Ziegler called it a full-body-prosthesis, even though not all of his body was prosthetic. Just most of it.
The list of things to control was long and exhausting to look at by times. Both of his legs and his right arm needed their joints and pressure sensitivity checked, his left arm and heart had synthetic blood vessels that needed to be controlled for knots or blood clocking up. His lung was artificial as well and had a tendency to collect sweating water that needed to be pumped out. His nerve system was partly paralyzed and needed to be checked regularly and receive additional stimulation to keep them active and finally his formerly blinded eyes and old scarred tissue got a look over as well. It's tedious and draining, but important.
At least the check-ups gave him a chance to chat with Angela. A lot of doctors had a hand in bringing his new body in motion, but unlike others Angela was not just a faceless person working on a project. He considered her and the friendship they developed to be one of the reasons he was able to regain his humanity.
"Alright, Genji. Your data is looking very good this month. Seems like the new filter for your lung is working very well."
Doctor Ziegler tapped something into her tablet while standing next to the bed Genji was resting in. White, opac curtains veiled him every time he was set onto the machinery, either to clean his body from wastes his own circulation can't remove anymore or record his bodily functions for research.
Genji appreciated their existence. Even thought his body was the only thing keeping him alive, he knew - or rather he feared - his appearance might gross people out. Or at least make them uncomfortable. The curtains made him feel safe, as they hid him and his body, openly displayed and often with his limbs removed for adjustments, from plain sight.
"You sure my body won't reject it again?"
"Let's say I'm much more sure it won't." Angela chuckled and removed her glasses. "I'll let the circulator run for some more minutes, alright? I need to see Winston real quick. We need some new bottles of oxygen for Morrison's check-up later today. That mask is an annoyance to get around I tell you."
"Didn't you get a new delivery last month already?"
The physician stuffed her glasses away into her lab coat's pocket. "Remember that large explosion our dear Junkrat caused last week? The one where he tried to build a hot air balloon?"
"Uh. Yes?"
"Guess what he used as fuel."
"Oh. Geez."
A deep sigh escaped her. "My new delivery comes in four or five days, until then I have to share with Winston."
"You need help with that?"
Angela chuckled. "No offence, Genji, but you seem...a little preoccupied. And while you wait to be done I can also use the time to be productive."
"You wound me, doctor! Are our chitchats not productive enough for you?"
Angela turned on the machine, a gentle humm coming from it, making it purr like a kitten. "I'm afraid not." she said, spreading the sarcasm rather thick. "We can continue once I come back however?"
"Well, I can't exactly run away, like you pointed out." the man chuckled, lifting his arms a little. Tubes and cables were still attached to his wrists and chest.
Angela shook her head with a chuckle. “Scherzkeks.” she muttered and walked out of the safe circle of the curtains, taking steps away and finally closing the door at the end of the room.
Genji used that moment to ponder. He came a long way, didn't he? It felt like a long way for sure.
Years ago he would have spit venom at the doctor. Called her names in his aggression. How could he ever make up for the abuse others suffered through his pain?...
No. Don't go there. Remember what your master said, Genji. You are healing. That is what truly matters. Still, the thorn of guilt stung.
His attention peaked up when he heard foot steps approach the med bay over his heart meter. But they were too heavy to be Angela's.
Tap-tick. Tap-tick. A single bulky boot walking across the floor accompanied with the metallic tapping of a crude prosthetic.
Genji wanted to sigh. He could recognize Junkrat by the noise of his walk cycle. That should probably worry him. Instead he wondered why the junker snug into the med bay. Did he want to see the doctor? No, then he would not be roaming around the place so much. Genji could hear him tug at locked cabinets and swear under his breath over empty shelves.
"Shit. Shit, where are they?"
"...Junkrat?"
Genji instantly regretted raising his voice. Junkrat made a loud squeaky noise, not very unlike his namesake. Genji could hear a paper box dropping to the ground. He assumed Junkrat might have thrown it down by accident.
"The fuck! What the fuck!...Athena? That a ghost? Holy fuck..."
Now that was almost adorable.
"Yes. Tis I, the med bay ghost, and I'm here to remind you of your check-ups and diet plan, uuuuhh..."
It seemed like Junkrat had located the origin of the voice, as Genji picked up a groan.
"That you behind that curtain, tin can? Fuckin hell, mate, ya scared the crap outta me."
"You scared the crap out of me." he returned. Which was a lie, of course, but anything to get his comeuppance to Junkrat. "You know, people usually don't sneak around the med bay like this. What were you even doing?"
"Nothin'."
"Sure didn't sound like nothing."
"Nonnaya."
"Fine."
Genji leaned back into his pillow. "Doctor Ziegler should be here soon. She's just looking for something."
The curious noises chimed again and Genji noticed them coming towards his curtains.
"What're ya doin here? Got too busy with the doc and now she gotta patch ya up?"
"If I said yes, would you be jealous?"
"Pffth! Naaah...wait, ya really...?"
"Of course not." Genji grunted. "I'm here for my check-up. I'm connected to a machine right now."
The junker's voice carried a sly grin. "Shouldn't a tin can like ya go see a mechanic and not a doctor? What if some poor sob needs that spot more than ya do?"
"First, there are enough spots in the med bay, as you might have noticed. And second, and I don't know how often I have to repeat myself in that regard, I'm not an omnic. I'm a cyborg. Big difference."
"Yeah, fuckin difference it makes when ya hangin with all these wind-up toys in this place."
"Please don't call my master and Bastion wind-up toys. They are -"
"Thinkin bein's with emotions and dreams and blah blah blah. Ya spinnin like a record, battle lizard."
Genji snorted. That was probably the friendliest nickname Junkrat had given him thus far. And he hated to admit that he found amusement in it.
He glanced at the edge of the curtain, that separated the junker from the cyborg. His voice picked back up.
"What's left o' ya?"
"Now that's a rude question."
"Rude answer, too."
"Why are you asking? You wanna measure how much humanity I'm worthy of getting in your books?"
"What?" Genuine confusion. "Nah, I'm jus' curious! I've seen a lot o' people here got new arms and fancy stuff and shit. So what's the bug deal? Why ya need all that chrome?"
Pretty pushy, the young man, Genji mused to himself. But it was hard to detect any ill will in his voice. He seemed honestly interested in in knowing. The cyborg hummed.
Respecting. Understanding. Coexisting.
"My body is more than fifty percent artificial at this point. Which includes limbs, inner organs and part of my skin. That's all I'm saying."
A pause. One that made Genji uneasy. It can't be a good sign when Junkrat, the loudest person he ever met, fell quiet.
The curtains were yanked aside and Genji flinched, reflexes telling him to grab his knife from the back, but there was nothing but bed sheets.
He looked...different. Cleaner. Did he finally take his weekly shower? He wasn't sure if he had ever seen him this not dirty before. He saw freckles in wide arrays sprinkled across the usually sooty shoulders and cheeks and defined tan lines from his gear. Even his arm and peg leg looked polished to a shine.
And the junker stared. Stared with his large, gleaming eyes that were so brightly brown that they were almost orange. Stared at Genji's face with an unreadable expression.
A kingdom for a blanket to hide under. The cyborg used the next best thing, hiding behind his arms, suddenly feeling ever scar burning on his skin and ever artificial vein in his body pulsating violently. Like a caged animal tossed into spotlight he growled.
"The curtains are there for a reason."
Nothing. No reply. Not even a snarky remark. But Genji kept hiding his face, still feeling his eyes linger. He wanted to sob. Overwhelmed. No. Stop looking. I know I'm gross. Stop looking at me.
A quiet noise. Fabric ruffling. Genji dared to glance up.
The junker had inched closer, eying the machine and the tubes hanging from Genji's arm. His face looked pale. His eyes jittery. Not grossed out, but definitely uneasy.
He noticed Genji peaking at him and moved his head to meet his gaze.
"Geez. Mate...I'm...I'm sorry."
Sorry?
Junkrat was sorry? That seemed weird out of character.
Jittery arms went apart, glancing in distrust, giving more of his face free.
"You are not the first one to say that."
"That an iron lung?" He pointed fingers at the machinery.
"No. It...helps to circulate my blood."
"Ya right arm's gone, too, huh? Glad ta see ya still got the other."
Something dawned on Genji. His arms slowly sank to the sheets. He hummed. "It's...yes, I do."
How foolish of him to think Junkrat, the man sans an arm and a leg, would be grossed out by what was essentially a full body prosthetic. The young man had his fair share of pain to endure himself. Still he felt shook. He didn't like people coming this close and personal when he was laying bare like this.
The junker turned his head at Genji. "Take it they saved up as much o' ya as theyyy...uhh..."
Their eyes met and the junker's words ran out like water in sand. Genji noticed a slight blush bloom under the freckles that even effected his ears.
"What...is something wrong?" Genji asked and hated to sound so timid.
Junkrat twitched with a weep before giggling. "Ouh, hoops! Sorry there, mate, didn't mean ta stare...it's just...never saw ya without ya helmet before. Ya kinda cute."
"You're joking." Genji returned. Not that he couldn't take a compliment but, even putting his conditions aside, cute is not exactly the word Genji would use to describe someone ten years older than himself. Well, maybe aside from Reinhardt...
"Nah! I'm not! I think ya lookin great! I mean, like, the short hair's nice. I like the beard. And lemme tell ya, where I'm from, people would be formin lines behind ya, even with that robot body, cause we junker can appreciate a handsome man with lotsa scars!"
The man had started to giggle a little himself. It's been some time since someone complimented him like that. He ruffled through his short salt-and-pepper hair and brushed over the short, trimmed beard.
"I'm afraid those days are behind me." he whispered, anxiety falling off his shoulders.
Coexisting might not be half as hard as he thought it would.