Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wind whistling was the only sound loud enough to fill the empty canyon, not even the sound of a wandering animal could stir the peace. One would think that, of all places, the road leading to Deadlock’s old hideout would be filled with gunshots, thunderous footsteps, and shouted orders. Now the gorge sat empty and quiet, a relic of a time gone by. The old diner there had long since been raided, windows smashed and doors missing. The gas station a ways down was also missing its doors as well as the tools and machinery that once inhabited it, gas all but gone. Further still, the ‘little town’, as they liked to call it, was in no better shape than anywhere else, thick dust unmoving to the wind that blew through the open window frames.

But to Cole Cassidy, it was a sight for sore eyes.

No people meant no one could find him, no one knew he was here, unless they followed him, of course, but he always made sure to cover his trail. No one would dare come to the old Deadlock gorge anyways. The gang had long ago been imprisoned or killed by the hands of Overwatch, but in little towns and cities not too far away always feared they would return. Rumours had even spread that some people from the lesser division, the Rebels, Cole’s division and the one that hid out in the gorge, had escapees and bailouts. So, the gorge was left empty, no one daring to disturb the peace that had, finally, settled.

That was fine by Cole as he sprawled out on a ratty old couch in the Cave Inn, the mattress on the bed missing and the television smashed to bits. He was pleased he had found a way into the building’s upper floor and found the lock still as janky as the day he called it a second home. He wasn’t sure the last time he slept on something somewhat soft, so he was pleasantly surprised to have found the couch had remained where it was, though he would have rather slept on an actual bed for once.

It wasn’t his room from back in the day, but Cole liked to rent the room when he wanted out of the barracks further in. It also helped when the boys had one too many to drink and started up stupid games where someone always either died or lost a limb.

The night Overwatch showed up was one of those nights; Frankie and Joey had suggested roulette with a box of dud grenades and Cole was more than happy to hightail it out of there to his own private sanctuary. He had been dozing when the alarm sounded, alerting the base of an attack. It had startled him awake only to find the barrels of two twin shotguns in his face, his own gun on the other side of the room with his half empty bottle of whiskey and stun grenades.

That was a long time passed, though, and Cole was back to what he had thought he’d given up forever; an outlaw with his own brand of justice. He liked to entertain the idea of turning himself in, using the bounty money to bail himself, then get the fuck out of dodge, but he knew they wouldn’t be fair like that. Once Cole was under police custody, he’d be dead before he could even form a plan of escape.

He liked his odds out here better anyways, he only had to look out for himself. He didn’t have to trust a soul and he was fine with that, his naïve trust led to him being the figurehead of Blackwatch’s problems when Jack and Gabriel died in the Swiss base explosion. He was Gabe’s right hand man, his confidant, his protégé. Clearly he knew what the ever unstable man had planned. He clearly knew, in the final days before he slipped out of town, what Gabe was planning.

He huffed at the idea, wishing he had known what was going on. Maybe both Jack and Gabe would still be alive right now if he had pried further into Gabe’s life.

Cole didn’t allow himself to continue on that thought, especially without any whiskey to dull the memories, instead flipping out his old communicator that he had been given in his first week of being a Blackwatch agent. He kept it as a reminder that, while his bounty of sixty million called him one thing, he was anything but a criminal.

It had been ages since it could power up, Cole no longer had the charger and he didn’t feel like finding one while his face was plastered on every media outlet available. He didn’t want to reminisce about the past anyways, of a time gone by. It hurt to think of Overwatch, it hurt more to see pictures, to ground him in the idea that it wasn’t just a bad dream that he’d woken up from.

But, as luck would have it, he had found a battery that would fit from a different phone he had swiped. He figured there wouldn’t be any harm in it, he could take a night to himself and bask in the memories, maybe even send a message to see if anyone would respond after drowning in several bottles of whiskey.

“Ha, right.” He shook his head of the thought as he slid the back open, took out the poor looking battery and replaced it, humming in approval as the screen lit up almost instantly.

Soon enough, the communicator fully came to life, non stop buzzing for a solid minute and a half. He was mildly surprised he had bars out here, even more shocked that one of the messages was from only a month or so ago. He knew phones needed data plans, it was the one reason he refused to pick one up, but this bad boy, not exactly a phone, but ran in a similar function. seemed to be running perfectly fine without one. Maybe an Overwatch thing, maybe a Winston thing. Regardless of how it managed to work, he had been taught to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Several of the older messages were from former agents, asking where he was and if he had been there when the Swiss base went down, blaming him for being one of the terrorist sleeper agents. Others asked why he didn’t bring up what Gabe had planned, saying Jack might have still been alive if he had come forward with information. As if he had any. Fewer yet asked if he was okay, and it pleased him to see Angela and Reinhardt ask identical questions of if he was safe and well the days following his convenient disappearance.

Cole had a gut reaction to message them, after all these years, but thought against it. He was the sentimental fool who kept little trinkets, not those two. If Reinhardt couldn’t carry it, he left it behind, Angela simply wasn’t one to keep things other than photos. There was no way those two would still have their communicators, both likely broken or close to it. They didn’t have time for personal belongings when they were fighting a war, and that was okay; war did crazy, nasty things to civilians and soldiers alike. Angela was helping people in Egypt, last he heard, and Reinhardt had been on the front lines up until a few months ago.

He scrolled up to find one of the newer messages, one sent two years ago, was from Lena, asking if he was okay and wanted somewhere to hide while he was in the UK. He had been there to follow up a report on himself, claiming that the gunslinger had been responsible for several murders. He quickly found out it was Talon, specifically an assassin with the code name ‘Widowmaker’, and it was enough for him to stop digging, not wanting to know why they were trying to pin the murders on him.

Lena’s kindness and thoughtfulness touched him, but he would never compromise her like that. He was sure she must have had a normal life by now, he didn’t want to taint anything more with his touch than he had to. Just the thought of Widowmaker going after the pilot sent a shiver down his spine, half glad he hadn’t tried to seek her out after all.

The newest message was a video sent a month and a half ago, Cole half surprised Winston had sent it. He didn’t peg the ape to be one who cared for the old communicators, but he decided to play the video out of pure curiosity.

Cole couldn’t stop the faint smile as the video started, Winston eating a banana as he fixed the camera. “ Hmm, is this on? ”

He stifled a laugh as he got comfy, rotating the phone sideways as he fullscreened the video. “It is, big guy.” He mumbled out, feeling a familiar fondness towards the scientist.

His fondness for the ape didn’t vanish until he paused the video almost halfway through, staring at a younger version of himself, a medal hung around his neck with his head tipped back proudly, an old stetson he owned held close to his chest.

The medal, among other things, was something he had left behind. He was surprised he missed it so much, and maybe he could have used it to defend himself, to prove he wasn’t the villain. It would have been fruitless, though, everyone had already made up their minds about him the day Jack and Gabe died.

He resumed the video, deflating as he waited to hear the very words Gabe had said to get him to join instead of rotting in jail, that he ‘mattered’ and was ‘special’. In reality, he was just a dumb kid who didn’t want to go to prison.

“ You ,” Winston paused, sighing deeply as he looked away from his papers. “ You already know this .” Cole blinked, moving to sit up slightly as he bumped his stetson up and out of the way. “ Look, the people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals! ” Cole winced slightly. He knew it wasn’t directed at him, but it still hurt to hear it outloud, even after all this time. “ They tore our family apart. But look around! ” Jesse sat up proper now, back rigid against the arm of the couch, his breath catching in his throat as he watched dozens upon dozens of images flash by. “ Someone has to do something! We have to do something! "

The world really had gone to shit, everyone sitting by and doing nothing while Talon and other criminal organisations monopolised the chaotic energy. It was heartbreaking, but what could the ape and one cowboy do? Would anyone else even come out of hiding? Had anyone else answered the call? “ We can make a difference again! The world needs us now , more than ever! ”

He watched as Winston leaned forward, removing his glasses as he gave a small grin to the camera, Cole leaning in himself in anticipation. “ Are you with me? ”

Lightening fast, Cole tore himself up off the couch, dialling the ape’s number as he placed the communicator to his ear and listened to it ring, pacing the room as quietly as he could. This was stupid. He was stupid. Winston wouldn’t want a criminal working for him, especially not with the large bounty on his head. Cole was the very person the government and his fellow agents blamed for the Swiss base!

Just as he was about to pull the comm away and finally smash the damn thing like he should have done years ago, the other line picked up and Winston’s distinct voice came through. “ Hello, Winston speaking .”

Cole remained silent for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before letting out a small sigh. “Howdy Winston, s’been a while.”

“ C-Cassidy? ”

“Yeah, it’s me, big guy.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should explain why it took so long to answer his recall, why he hadn’t even tried to make any contact in the years before, why he was a wanted man, why he ran. “I saw yer video,” Winston remained eerily silent so Cole continued, “I’m with ya.”

Chapter Text

Cole tipped his head back and let out a low whistle as he watched the very, very small plane land along the dusty top of the canyon, the cowboy confidently walking towards it as the propellers slowed down and came to a halt.

He had expected a bigger plane—obviously not the Orca or Aurora, but larger —and not some little dinky thing that was probably paid for out of pocket with one week’s pay and could only fit three, maybe four, people. But the thought was cast aside as he saw three flashes of blue light before two arms were wrapped around his waist tightly, bright cheery eyes peering up at him. “Cole! It’s been too long, luv!”

He let out a small chuckle as he hugged the British woman back, grinning down at her. “Ya see me every day on the news.” He teased, Lena letting out a laugh.

“They don’t do your ugly mug justice.” She teased right back, pulling away as she smiled up at him. “I thought you’d thrown away your comm when you didn’t answer my messages, now I know you were just ghosting me.” The teasing tone hadn’t left her voice, but it was enough to make Cole feel somewhat guilty.

“Battery died and just got a new one, didn’t expect so many death threats if I’m bein’ honest.” Lena gave him a sympathetic look as she rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t take it too hard, Cole, everyone got them.” He just nodded, deciding she was trying to soften the blow, but he knew better than to argue any further on the matter.

They made their way over to the little plane, Lena’s mood instantly brightening again as she opened the side door and slid into the cabin and up into the cockpit. Cole followed in after her, momentarily worried he wouldn’t fit, but managed to shimmy in and sat down on one of the two small benches in the cabin.

“So, where’d we set up? Better not be Russia, they’re allowed to shoot me on sight.” Cole looked down to the seat as he spoke, letting out a quiet huff when he saw no belts to hold him down. He trusted Lena, already feeling them rekindle their former close friendship, but that didn’t ease the fear of flying enough for him to not be buckled to the tin can.

In the Orca, it at least flew steady enough that he could just conveniently pretend that they were in a hovercar. There were also belts to hold them in, not that anyone used them, but dozing off gave Cole an excuse to buckle in for the flight since he claimed he didn’t want to fall out of his seat. Cole was absolutely sure that this little plane wouldn’t be able to do anything but waver in the air, disallowing the illusion of a hovercar taking him across the world.

Lena let out a sharp laugh as she flicked some switches and pulled on a headset, grinning back at Cole. “Nah, just little ol’ Gibraltar, we have a former agent named Mei with us, she’s a climatologist. Winston and her are reopening the base for ‘science’ reasons, that’s why we have people coming in and out.” Cole was surprised to hear how devious the ape was, he thought Winston was incapable of lying or just not being nice in general. Clearly he had underestimated the scientist.

“So it looks good on paper,” a hum answered him, “that’s ‘bout’a change if I show up.” Cole’s fingers dug into the thin cushion of the seat as the plane jerked forward, he refused to look scared in front of the little Brit as he did his best to school his face.

“Yeah, bringing Cole Cassidy is obviously super suspicious, that’s why we’re bringing Joel Morricone to write an article on us.” Despite feeling dread as the plane left the ground shakily, he couldn’t help but crack a grin at the pilot. “There’s a barf bag under your seat if ya need it, luv.”

Cole let out a small huff, grin falling as he crossed his arms over his chest, he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. “Joel Morricone ain’t afraid of planes.” With that, he decided that trying to sleep for most of the flight was his best bet, not wanting to use up any of Lena’s supply of bags. “I’m clockin’ out, wake me up before we land.” He moved and laid on his back, legs hanging off the end of the bench at the knee as he moved his hat to cover his eyes. Maybe he could pretend he was in a hammock, the breeze gently rocking him back and forth.

“Got’cha, sleep tight, Cassidy!” He rolled his eyes slightly but was ultimately warmed that it was Lena who came to pick him up, not some new random recruit or a different former agent. Cole still didn’t know who to trust or, in return, who trusted him . He suspected Lena had been Winston’s choice, no one could hate the spunky little pilot, and it was damn near impossible to even be angry at her for longer than an hour.

With only a small sigh and the slight roll of his stomach, Cole crossed his arms behind his head to cushion them and let his eyes slide shut. Despite being in a tin can that was ready to plummet out of the sky with too strong of a breeze, this was the safest he felt in years.

.:.

Cole was startled awake as the tin can shook and made a loud groaning noise, the cowboy almost sliding off the bench. Had they been shot down? Currently being attacked? Was it Talon?

He sat upright, knocking his hat from his head as he roughly turned and looked out the tiny window. He squinted his eyes in confusion, not recognizing the scenery around them. They weren’t high in the air, but the plane had drastically slowed down and was surrounded by sharp cliffs. Did… did they land ?

“Sorry I didn’t wake ya! Figured you’d be able to sleep through the touchdown!” Lena called, Cole turning to send a small glare her way.

“I’ve got a sizable bounty on m’head, if I sleep heavy—”

“My bad, I keep forgetting you’ve been scapegoated so much.” He blinked as his flare of anger vanished. He often said that in his articles under his pen name, claiming Cole Cassidy was used as an excuse to not find the real criminals. It felt good to hear someone had read his articles, or at the very least, shared his opinion.

He quickly waved his hand dismissively to the Brit, grabbing his hat and set it back on his head before straightening out his serape. “Don’t you worry ‘bout it, sugar.” As the plane came to a complete stop, he stood and stretched as best he could in the small cabin, groaning in pain as he tried to roll his neck to stretch out the kink that had formed there.

The two disembarked the tin can, Cole more than happy to have his feet firmly planted back on the ground. If he was more into being dramatic, he might have dropped to the soil and kissed it, but right now, all he wanted to do was eat a good meal and tap out for the night.

Lena seemed to sense his need to get moving, leading them away from the landing strip deeper into the island. “I normally just blink my way here, so we’ll be walking.” She looked embarrassed but Cole just gave her an easy smile.

“A little walkin’ ain’t ever killed anyone.” Lena let out a small chuckle, keeping pace with Cole as they followed the dirt road.

He hadn’t ever been to Watchpoint: Gibraltar, Gabe always kept them either in Switzerland or in the States. He had heard from Moira that Gabe and Winston didn’t get along well, but he was sure it was more along the lines of Jack telling Gabe to take orders from a literal sentient ape and his commander hadn’t liked that. Gabe didn’t like a lot of things, but everyone knew that his pride was damn near at the top of his priority list.

“Oh, been meanin’ to ask,” Cole started, waiting for Lena’s permission before continuing. “Who all answered the recall? Don’t reckon I wanna go in there caught with m’pants down.”

Lena let out a little laugh as she bounced ahead a couple steps, turning to walk backwards in front of him. “Well, obviously me and Winston answered, same with you.” He gave her an eye roll, earning another laugh before the shorter one was by his side again. “Rein answered and he brought Torb’s daughter with him, she’s cute, a mechanic, and a medic!” Cole was surprised to hear they let an outsider in, he had assumed it would be only the former agents, not some teenager following in her father’s footsteps, but he didn’t know Torbjörn’s daughter, any of his children really, or how she operated. Plus, they were running a very illegal operation, beggars can’t be choosers. “Of course Torb came with them, and apparently he convinced Angie to return as well, which is nice.”

Cole nodded, relieved to at least be seeing some old faces. “Sounds like a mighty fine team.”

Lena’s eyes lit up as her grin widened. “I’m not even finished yet! You remember Ana’s daughter?”

How could he not? She was exciting and hung around with Cole and Gabe when Ana let her tag along. She was energetic and full of life right up until her mother was cruelly taken from her. Her father, Sam, quickly came back into her life to pick up the slack, but Cole never saw her again once she moved up to Canada. Not even a year later, the Swiss base went to hell in a handbasket. He was silently glad she hadn’t been there to witness it.

“Yeah, I ‘member Fareeha, cute kid.” Lena let out a short laugh, Cole quirking up an eyebrow.

“Don’t call her that now, she’s the security chief for Helix and answered the recall in her mum’s place.” He wanted Lena to stop talking about Captain Amari, the very woman who taught him how to shoot with Peacekeeper, but he was too afraid to estrange himself from his friend again, so he kept his mouth shut. “So she’s here too, but she’s kinda like a double agent? Helix would fire her so fast if they found out.” Another laugh came from the Brit, Cole grateful that she continued on to the other new team members and left the Amari name behind for now.

“We also have some new faces, it’ll be easier to meet them once you get settled, but we have Hana, this big Russian lady named Zarya, obviously Mei, the Lúcio Correia dos Santos,” as if he knew who that was, “and the two newest guys named Reaper and Soldier: 76.” She made a face at the last two names, Cole inclined to mimic.

“Ain’t they give ya their names?” He asked, curious about the two unnamed men. Those types of people were the most dangerous, they were virtually untraceable if they wanted to be.

Lena shook her head, pouting slightly. “They let Angie run her tests and do examinations, but even she calls them Reaper and 76. I think they were vigilantes before coming here, but getting them to talk is like bathing a cat.” Cole let out a hum in understanding, feeling like ‘Soldier: 76’ should be ringing a bell but wasn’t.

“But yeah! That’s all we have right now, I'm excited that you answered the recall! No one will say it, but we've all been hoping you’d want to come back, even after Switzerland.” Cole inadvertently tensed up, there was no room for accusation in her voice as it was filled with joy and happiness, but it still felt wrong to bring up that after what Cole had been accused of and subjected to.

He gave her a careful side eye, finding she was happily bouncing along beside him. He’d rather get it out before he was forced to explain himself later under less caring eyes. “Lena, can we,” he paused for a second to lick his lips nervously. “Can we not talk ‘bout Switzerland?”

She looked up to him, eyes going wide as she stopped and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories!” He quickly shook his head, holding his hands up in front of himself.

“It ain’t that—”

“No, I shouldn’t have brought it up, and I’ll make sure no else does!” The fiery determination in her eyes was enough for him to fall—awkwardly—silent as he rubbed the back of his neck, glad it wouldn’t be brought up again but upset that he hadn’t been able to properly articulate why .

“So, I have to ask,” Lena started up again, breaking the tense silence he had forced upon them. “Did you actually bomb the hypertrain?” Cole, despite his inner turmoil, barked out a startled laugh, Lena grinning up at him as he began to recount the exciting adventure of saving innocent lives and throwing an unknown object off the train.

Chapter Text

Cole let out a low whistle as Lena brought him right up to the front doors of the base, wishing Gabe had brought him here at least once before. They had passed by a rocket-looking thing that Lena explained was a satellite, Winston working on expanding their network. They also walked right through a hanger, Cole pouting when he saw the Aurora sitting pretty and all cleaned up, several mechanics working away at it.

Lena had stopped then and called over a redhead, introducing Cole to Brigitte. Most of her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, grease smeared across her face every which way, and a smile damn near as bright as Lena’s. It was hard to imagine the teen being Torbjörn’s daughter, she seemed to be completely opposite, especially the good foot or two she had on her father, but it was refreshing to see a Lindholm that wasn’t always cranky.

The other mechanics working with Brigitte were from the old days, Cole recognizing all three the instant they turned their eyes to him. The two women, one with dark brown skin and the other a pasty white, gave him hard looks, the former turning her back to him as she continued to work with renewed vigour. The man with light brown skin turned up his nose at Cassidy, eyes unkind.

“Madi, Isabella, Luis,” Cole gave a small tip of his hat as he kept his expression even and civil, “mighty fine seeing y’all again.”

Luis let out a snort, but the fair skinned woman, Isabella, all but snarled at him. “You shouldn’t have shown your face again, not after you let Reyes blow up—”

“Oi, we’re not going over this!” Lena barked out, hands on her hips as she glared at the fair skinned woman.

Madi took a step forward, wiping her greasy hands on a blue handkerchief aggressively. “And why shouldn’t we? He’s the reason Overwatch got disbanded in the first place.”

Cole took a half step forward, starting to feel his anger get to him. He hated when he was being talked about like he wasn’t standing right there , especially when he was being accused of something he didn’t do. “I’m flattered y’all think I single handedly took down the old Overwatch, but ya give me too much credit; I couldn’t take down Blackwatch, let alone Overwatch , in m’dreams.”

The Puerto Rican man let loose a sharp laugh, moving to give Cole a harsh shove. His movement had been anticipated, Cole adjusting accordingly, and was ultimately unmoved, it just seemed to make Luis more angry. “You stupid son of a bitch, we know you had help! We knew there were sleeper agents, you’re one yourself!”

Suddenly, Brigitte moved to stand between the cowboy and the furious mechanics, a deep glare casted towards the three underlings. “That’s enough, I will not listen to anyone whining about the old days, I get that enough from Rein.” She turned, eyes softening as she gave Cole a kind smile. It startled him, not expecting someone who had heard both sides to willingly stand by him. He knew his story sounded convenient, that he just managed to avoid the fallout and was safely on a plane back to America when Gabe and Jack had brawled it out. It was easy to imagine that he knew, that’s why it had been so hard to tell everyone otherwise.

It still bothered him that Moira had also left around the same time he did, no one even bothering to talk about the Irish woman. Was she not just as guilty as Cole? With her less than moral decisions and reputation for ignoring laws to get what she wanted, he thought she would have been the first person everything was blamed on. To add on to it, Moira was around long before Cole’s sorry ass was swiped from Deadlock, the mad scientist and Blackwatch’s commander often drinking together when Jack and Ana weren’t around to keep Gabe company. Maybe they weren’t around as much as they should have been.

And as if that wasn’t enough; Cole was a wandering vigilante while Moira literally sided with Talon.

Brigitte turned back to her mechanics, hands on her hips. “I don’t care what Mr. Cassidy did in the past, he very clearly cares about the cause if he came back despite knowing he’d have to deal with people like you three.” Isabella and Luis stayed silent, still fuming but unable to fully argue.

“You wouldn’t understand, Brig, you weren’t there.” All eyes turned their attention to Madi, but she sharply turned and walked back to the Aurora without waiting for a response.

Luis and Isabella gave one more glare at the cowboy before taking off after Madi, all three of them leaning in to whisper among themselves as they put distance between themselves and the three agents. Suddenly, Brigitte and Lena were looking at him, Brigitte giving a kind smile but was unable to fully keep the sadness from her eyes while Lena couldn’t keep eye contact. “Rotten luck, running into them.” Lena commented, Cole letting out a snort while Brigitte chuckled quietly.

After that, they left Brigitte to finish up her work, Lena pointedly taking the two of them down side corridors, avoiding people as much as she could until they reached the front door where Winston sat waiting, doctor Ziegler standing to his left and Reinhardt to his right.

The good doctor was the first to break from the scientist’s side, running towards Cole and tackled him into a hug. Cole let out a sharp laugh, one hand coming up to keep his stetson in place while he hugged her back with the other arm. “Look at you, ain’t aged a single day!”

Angela let out her own laugh, a little smirk on her face. “Still flirty as ever, though I think you’ve gotten better at it.” She teased, blue eyes ever kind as they turned and walked towards the ape and former crusader. “When you have time later, I need you to swing by my office, your info is horribly out of date.”

He barked out another laugh as he nodded, a small rush of happiness filling him at the sight of his old friends. “'Course, doc, still don’t like needles but I’ll pull through just for ya.” He gave her a wink, Angela bursting out into a laugh as she gave him a playful little shove.

As they drew near towards the other two agents, Reinhardt was the next to break from Winston’s side, big arms open wide as he approached the American. He had no choice but to open up his own arms, wheezing out a laugh as the tree trunks for arms squeezed tightly around him. “It’s been far too long, Cole! Tonight, we drink in your honour until the sun comes up!”

The little pointed ‘ahem’ from Angela had Reinhardt loosening his grip slightly, Cole grinning up at him as the giant looked to the doctor. “Responsibly, of course, miss Angela.” Cole, Angela, and Lena let out small laughs as Reinhardt parted from the cowboy, allowing him to finally breathe properly as he straightened out his serape.

“Cassidy, it’s good to see you again.” He looked over to Winston, doing his best to relax and give an easy smile. The ape looked downright nervous, shifting his weight between his two front arms, one hand coming up to bump his glasses back into place every now and then.

He couldn’t help himself, pointedly walking over to Winston who progressively looked more nervous until Cole threw his arms up and around the ape’s neck, holding him just as tightly as he had the others. It took a moment for Winston to relax, but soon enough a giant arm was wrapped around Cole. In the past, they hadn’t been particularly close, only talking and going on missions together a handful of times, but he was as much family as everyone else had been so far.

“Yer right ‘bout that,” Cole started, pulling away to stand beside Winston. “Forgot how much fun y’all were.” He let his grin widened slightly as he saw Lena preen beside him, her own smile being infectious.

Thankfully, Winston seemed to relax further as his shoulders slumped slightly. “Well, no time to waste then! I have a meeting room prepared to get you acquainted with the other agents.”

Cole gave him a little grin, bumping up his hat. “Always wanted t’go to a family reunion.” He teased, Winston finally cracking a smile as the others let out laughs.

As Winston turned to lead the way in, heavy footsteps alerted Cole that someone was running towards them. His first instinct was to draw his gun and aim down whoever it was, but he simply let his hand hover Peacekeeper as he turned to see the young mechanic running towards them with a little grin on her face.

“Thanks for waiting up!” Brigitte seemed chipper despite the argument between her mechanics and the cowboy only a few minutes ago.

“You forgot about the meeting, didn’t you?” Reinhardt teased, a big hand clapping against her back.

Brigitte smirked, roughly hip checking him and managing to throw the giant of a man off balance slightly. “Of course not, I came to make sure you wouldn’t miss it.” She let out a laugh, Reinhardt mimicking.

It was… nice. Cole felt like this was hopelessly domestic, but he welcomed it all the same. He missed interacting with people as much as he claimed to be a lone wolf, especially those who he could call friends.

When he was pulled out of Deadlock and given a choice, he had thought no one would ever trust him. Who would tell secrets and mission plans to a scrawny kid who repeatedly tried to get out when Reyes wasn’t looking and lied constantly? Angela was one of his first friends, she was placed under Moira for her apprenticeship, meaning Cole would have to see her often with how much he got banged up during sparring sessions. She was given Cole as a patient, purely because Moira and Gabe thought it was hilarious, but her gentle tone and amiable personality eased Cole into his new life, giving correct information, and allowing for medical examinations. He would also be lying if he said he didn’t have a crush on her at the time.

Friends had come easier after that, Angela introduced him slowly to the more important people who she claimed had ‘looked past his Deadlock days’. He hadn’t initially believed her, but Reinhardt was incredibly kind, and Winston liked making new friends since he was fresh off the moon. Torbjörn was harder to read, and he certainly kept his distance, but even the old cranky Swede eventually would spare a joke in Cole’s direction or humour the cowboy with his own jokes and questions.

His bond with Reyes had apparently been a surprise to everyone, the older one becoming a role model and parental figure in Cole’s life that he had sorely been missing since he had joined Deadlock at the tender age of seven. Sure, the boss made sure Cole could shoot okay and get out of trouble well enough, even partnered him up with another kid named Elizabeth so they could watch each other’s backs when he turned eleven, but Gabe filled a void Cole wasn’t even aware he had at the time.

Briefly, Cole wondered what had become of Ashe and Bob. He only found out later, when he was fifteen and Ashe was seventeen, that she was a rich kid who wanted some ‘excitement’ in her life, which explained why she never slept on base until she hit sixteen. He had been mildly offended that his rough way of life was something a rich kid—someone who had everything —would want. But Ashe was a good shot, an even better strategist, and Bob was a terrifying omnic who could level a battlefield in minutes. He’d sooner have Ashe on his side than the enemies, lest Bob turned those green eyes on him.

Reinhardt clapping his hands together and laughing startled Cole from his thoughts, finding everyone beginning to head inside as they chatted amongst themselves. He was quick to shake his memories of Ashe away as he headed after his found family, deciding he had made the correct choice when he chose Blackwatch over prison.

Chapter Text

The narrow corridor of the room was mostly silent, soft whimpers from the other captives echoing off the bland, dark grey walls as scientists in stark white lab coats padded between the cells, clipboards in their hands as they jotted down notes and spoke to one another in hushed voices.

There wasn’t much to look at, everything seemed to be made of the same metal material and colour, where one thing ended and another began was almost impossible to tell. The cells were glorified square cages, barely six feet tall and five feet wide and long. An uncovered drain sat in the middle of the cells, each one holding the vile scent of faeces and urine, and, in some cases that weren’t so rare, vomit and blood.

It was a special kind of hell, every bit of the facility constantly reminding its prisoners of the pain and suffering no matter where they went. Perhaps that’s why everything looked the same, you can’t escape the awful images in your head if you’re constantly reminded of them.

Though it wasn’t confirmed, more rather speculated among the living subjects, they were stationed deep underground. None could remember seeing any windows or outside light under the fluorescent bulbs. The fresh air intakes smelled less fresh and more manufactured and metallic, giving credit to the idea that they were far from surface level. It just added to the insanity, a little bit more to try and force their test subjects into submission.

Hanzo Shimada wasn’t a stranger to imprisonment, he and his younger brother, Genji, had been forced to endure years worth of training to insure they wouldn’t break. This was a level of torture that was designed to slowly chip away at their resolve, but Hanzo would not let these vile people twist his mind. He was cold and still as a statue, never acknowledging the scientists or their questions as they went about poking and prodding at him.

He didn’t think there was one ounce of his body that could forgive these people, he would not allow it, not after the tests he and Genji went through for their sick amusement, declaring the brothers should be able to summon their family’s spirit guardians. Genji had called them stupid, neither believing for an instant that these cruel and evil people could call upon an ancient family spirit that could very well not be real and force it to have a corporal form.

They had been wrong.

The cost of summoning the twin dragons left Hanzo tired and lethargic, Genji in no better condition though he could only summon one. Why Hanzo could summon two and Genji only one was left a mystery, it seemed even Talon was clueless on that front. They both knew it was something to do with their tattoos, using the Shimada family ink as an anchor, but that’s as far as their progress had been on the subject, furthering their confusion since Hanzo only had one dragon on his body. He had dabbled in the idea of getting a companion piece, something similar to his mother’s, but the elders had forbidden it. Something about tradition and honour, though Hanzo had tuned them out once he was denied.

In tall tales, their grandfather had told them that a dragon spirit would forever protect those carrying the Shimada blood, so long as they let the spirits mark them. The tradition of getting a dragon tattoo came from this legend, and they thought it had only been that; a legend. No one had ever been able to summon a dragon before, and, as the brothers grew older and learned about the family business, it was written off as just a Yakuza symbol the older generations chose for the heirs of the empire, the grunts getting the family sigil of two dragons chasing one another in a circle.

Their father and mother both had a dragon, their mother’s a dark green hidden in a bamboo forest on her thigh and their father’s an angry red pouncing out of lava on his right arm. Genji’s had been inked in a bright green (in remembrance of Mother after her untimely passing), the dragon’s body coiled among the branches of a cherry blossom tree that rested on his back. Hanzo’s was a deep blue, curling up from his wrist, up his arm, across his shoulder, and ending just above his left nipple. Storm clouds and lightning bathed the inked dragon, allowing its body to hide and weave in the storm.

The brothers got theirs when they each respectively turned sixteen while their mother got hers a month after she gave birth to Hanzo. And of course Mother told stories of ancient dragons, ones that ruled the earth ages upon ages ago, and the ones that protected the Shimada’s, but it was never presented as anything other than a story.

Even now, after witnessing the semi-transparent creatures pull its body up from his arm or Genji’s back, it still didn’t seem real. He wasn’t sure it would ever feel real.

A sharp voice drew Hanzo from his thoughts, peeking out of their cell to see the lead scientist, an Irish woman with short red hair and two different coloured eyes named Doctor O’Deorain, weaving between each cell. Her eyes were unkind as she spoke to her assistant who jotted down notes almost as quickly as the woman spoke, their eyes never looking up to the scientist.

Her impassive face curled into a small grin as she stopped in front of what she lovingly liked to call her ‘favourite test subjects’, harsh brown eyes glaring up at her behind long curtains of hair. “How are my two dragons doing?” She asked with a mocking coo in her voice, the older of the two snarling at her.

But, he didn’t give her an answer, refusing to waste his breath on a woman who refused to listen. Genji, on the other hand, seemed like he was ready for a fight.

“You don’t get to call us that, no one does.” Genji spat, weakly rising to his feet from Hanzo’s side. “I swear, as soon as Sojiro finds us, you’ll be the first one to die.”

O’Deorain let out a cruel laugh as she folded her hands behind her back, leaning towards the bars slightly. “You’ve been here for quite a while, don’t you think he would’0ve come for you by now?” Hanzo dared a glance to his younger brother, holding his breath when he saw Genji’s knees almost give out. “Besides, the only way to advance ourselves is to pursue new distances in science, and I’d say I’ve done remarkable work on the Shimada line.” Something in Hanzo snapped, the way she sounded like she had any hold on the Shimada family rubbed him the wrong way. She was acting as if the brothers should be grateful .

“You have sullied our bodies with your disgusting experiments and you expect us to say ‘thank you’?” Sharp eyes turned to Hanzo, Doctor O’Deorain looking almost surprised he had finally broken his silence. “You are delusional at best, we will escape, and you will be the first creature we seek out and kill for stealing away two Shimada heirs.”

O’Deorain quickly regained her composure as she gave Hanzo a little smirk, crouching down so she was level with him. “My, my, finally broke your silent treatment, Akande will be most pleased to hear about this.” Hanzo’s blood went cold at the mention of Talon’s leader.

He was a terrifying man to deal with, under his smooth and arrogant exterior was a cold and calculating man. He had worked both Hanzo and Genji into a corner, promising that they would be broken and join Talon’s ranks. Hanzo had verbally disagreed, and the next memory he had was searing pain just below his right knee and Genji sobbing over his body. Within the following days, he was given the tools to fix his one prosthetic, not that he knew much about the mechanics behind it.

Akande had said that if he was good, then he’d get a proper mechanic to come in and fix it. Hanzo simply spat in his face and began his silence.

Putting on a brave façade, Hanzo sent a glare to the woman as he clenched his hands at his sides. “Tell him what you want, I will kill you once this is over.”

Doctor O’Deorain gave a small roll of her eyes, standing up again as she looked between the brothers. “You’ll submit to me in time, boys like you were raised to be obedient to the person holding the leash.” Without skipping a beat, she turned and walked off, her assistant close behind her.

Only once she was out of sight was when Genji finally collapsed to his knees, letting out a shaky breath as he turned and crawled back over to sit beside his older brother. “Fuck killing her with a sword, let’s just fucking nuke this hellhole.” Hanzo let out a weak chuckle as he moved and pressed closer to Genji’s side, the younger one instantly resting his head on Hanzo’s shoulder as the older one rested his own head on top of Genji’s head.

They sat in silence, Hanzo able to gauge exactly when Genji went to sleep as his breathing turned shallow and slow. Hanzo let his mind drift to his legs, specifically to the one that had lost feeling from Akande. The sensors on the right leg no longer worked, he couldn’t feel the cool floor or the pressure when he stood and walked.

He sucked in a shuddering breath when he swore he could feel his toes moving on his right foot, his body slightly shaking. He could feel the sharp stab of pins and needles as he tried to roll his ankle, but the joint was stiff and unresponsive, the nerves having been damaged and made his ankle unable to even twitch. He hadn’t felt phantom pains in years , not after his mechanic had spent hours upon hours slaving away to make these prosthetics feel as real as they could be.

Hanzo suddenly clapped his hand to his mouth, moving to tip his head back as he stared up at the ceiling with his brown eyes growing glassy.

He couldn’t believe that any of this had happened, this wasn’t how their lives were supposed to play out. He was supposed to be ready to take the reins of the clan, not sitting in some underground testing facility, feeling phantom pains, and able to actually call upon his spirit guardians. He and Genji should’ve been at home, making deals and pleasing their father with their growing knowledge of their ever expanding empire.

Even Genji, the spare heir the elders had once asked for Hanzo to eliminate, had finally found a place in the Shimada-gumi. Father had been pleased and the elders had, begrudgingly, accepted it. The younger one still spent most of his days and nights in Shimada clubs, but when he was called upon, he did not disappoint like he had years before.

It wasn’t fair! He wanted to scream, cry out, act childish! He did everything he had ever been told to do! Didn’t he deserve something better than a broken prosthetic and being used as a pincushion? Sure, he had killed plenty of people, threatened more than a handful or two or twenty, cheated several cheaters at their own games, but it was because it was expected of him. His loyalty to the Shimada-gumi came before his own moral standings, he was obedient to a fault.

He was born to be a weapon, raised to take up the mantle of oyabun once his father passed, trained to lead their clan to greatness. Never once was his input asked, he seldom was allowed to make his own choices. He did everything without question, without a sliver of hesitance. So why was he being punished?

If anything, it was Genji’s fault. He had suggested they go out for drinks for the older one’s 38th birthday. Hanzo had been more than happy to just lounge around at home, especially with Father’s ever deteriorating health (the old fool refused to step down and join the elders, for what reason Hanzo would never know), but Genji had insisted that they both deserved a small break. He was going to slip out anyways, so Hanzo decided to tag along to keep the younger Shimada out of trouble.

Trouble found them when a relatively pretty thing with long, dark blue hair and skin so pale it almost looked like a bluish-purple came up to them with two drinks, handing them off to the brothers as she wished Hanzo a happy birthday in very rough sounding Japanese.

Genji was fishing for a one-night stand, Hanzo was just being courteous, both were far past buzzed and drank the alcohol without inspecting the way the bubbles floated downwards and tasted off .

The last thing he remembered before passing out was the woman smirking as she pressed a finger to her ear, stating that the targets had been acquired in English with a heavy French accent.

In his heart, Hanzo knew it was unfair to blame Genji. The younger one had simply been trying to get Hanzo off the family grounds, experience life a little before they were finally trapped behind the castle walls with their duties for good.

Genji was only doing what he always did best; making sure everyone was having a good time, even when the world was falling apart around them.

With his thoughts slightly sorted and mind briefly forgetting about the pins and needles, Hanzo returned his head to Genji’s and took this brief pause of derailed thoughts as his sign to try and sleep, sighing softly as he closed his eyes. He prayed for some miracle to happen, anything at this point, that would allow them to escape and go home.

Chapter Text

Reaper was quietly leaning up against the back wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, near black eyes hidden behind his white mask as he watched the other agents, some faces new and some old, mingle with one another as they waited for the latest recalled agent. The waiting was driving him crazy, he didn’t even want to meet the new kid. Reaper had better things to do than meet someone who would constantly avoid him anyways.

It was partially his fault that people didn’t approach him; he didn’t seek anyone out, and he tried to keep himself as far away from others as he could. He didn’t know what he would say or do if someone recognized him, and that scared Reaper more than having no familiar connections.

“Don’t you look inviting.” He glanced over to the sarcastic voice that came from Soldier: 76, the red visor looking out into the group as he too leaned against the wall, hands pinned behind his lower back.

Reaper let out a huff, loosening his grip on his arms slightly as he relaxed his shoulders. “The longer we mingle with them, the closer they’ll be to figuring us out.” He mumbled, not wanting their cover blown so soon after coming back home.

76 let out a hum in understanding, Reaper noticing his shoulders relaxing as well. “Who do you think answered?” He asked, looking over to meet Reaper’s masked gaze.

“Normally, I would just suggest a little nobody, like another engineer or grunt, but they wouldn’t gather us all together like this if it wasn’t someone important.” He paused, thinking thoughtfully. “Maybe Ana’s finally decided to come back.” Another thoughtful hum from 76, Reaper suddenly letting out a snort. “Or maybe Gérard somehow survived a blade to his heart.” That earned a chuckle from his companion, Reaper smiling fondly under his mask.

At this point in the game, he wouldn’t discredit his thought entirely. Ana had survived a shot directly to her head, faking her death, and resurging as a vigilante named Shrike that hovered mostly in Egypt. Himself and Jack had survived an explosion , been brought back to life by both Angela and the snake in the grass Moira.

He had thought she and Cassidy had fled Switzerland together, they had vanished around the same time and neither left a note. Angela confirmed Moria had fled, but she didn’t go west, where they suspected Cole had gone, she went south. Angela had found her holed up in Watchpoint: Congo, a small and retired base under the Congo River. How the good doctor managed to find Moria was beyond him, and he almost wished she hadn’t bothered looking.

Whatever Moira did to Gabe, it completely fucked up his body. Being able to teleport and turn to smoke had certainly helped him more times than he could count, but sometimes the abilities activated on their own accord when he went through extreme emotions, a self defence of sorts, Angela had guessed. It was terribly inconvenient when he and Jack decided, after far too long, to take a night to themselves. Just as Gabe had reached his peak, his wraith form activated and he fell around Jack and through the mattress, right onto the floor. Jack couldn’t stop laughing and Gabe was beyond mortified.

He sorely missed when these abilities were attached to his belt that he could take off when the day was done.

Reaper was pulled from the embarrassing memory as the door to the meeting room slid open, Winston and Reinhardt coming in first. The ape gave a shy smile as he moved to stand at the head of the table, Reinhardt giving a huge grin as he moved to stand beside Torbjörn.

It was easy to tell that Winston was out of his element as a leader, Gabe had watched him plenty back in the good ol’ days. He was a scientist, only being sent out on missions where his aggression could be of service, like the Havana mission that Sojourn had put together without prior permission and that the ingrate hadn’t mentioned he would be on.

Fucking Cassidy.

Winston and Cassidy aside, it was only a matter of time now; he and 76 would reveal themselves, explain why they had vanished and used smoke and mirrors to cover everything up. Hopefully, Jack would resume command at that point, start up the de facto team proper, and continue to pursue Overwatch’s original goal. All they had to do was bide their time and gain everyone’s trust, they couldn’t afford to reveal themselves until even the most skeptic of the group welcomed them back.

Brigitte came in next, right behind the ape, and quickly walked over to Hana with a quiet greeting, a soft smile returned for her efforts. Angela was next, half turned as she spoke to whoever remained outside the door. She too quickly broke off to stand with Torbjörn and Reinhardt, Reaper quietly realising he and 76 were absent from their close knit group. 76 must have felt it too, if his uncomfortable shifting said anything.

He wasn’t given time to dwell on it as Lena popped in, a giant grin on her face. “Alright everyone, it’s my pleasure to announce that our newest recall is,” she paused with a grin, “drumroll please!” Reinhardt, Hana, and Brigitte humoured the tiny woman, hammering their fists on the table with laughs. “Cassidy!” Lena shouted out, loud whooping and hollering following the announcement.

Gabe felt everything slow down and their cheers fell upon his deaf ears, eyes widening behind his mask as Cole fucking Cassidy sauntered in, clothing beyond dusty, dark tanned skin looking weathered, and deep bags under his bright eyes. He was down an arm and had it replaced with a prosthetic, plenty of dents in it from what he assumed were bullets that had ricocheted, if the sewn holes in his shirt and serape were anything to go by.

Oh, the years had not been kind to Cole, that much Gabe knew.

“ Holy shit , you’re here !” Fareeha was the first to speak up amongst the cheering, running from her seat beside Satya and Mei to tackle Cole into a hug.

The cowboy let out a noise of surprise as they tumbled to the floor, a deep laughter rumbling from Cole that Fareeha quickly joined in with as they hugged tightly. Reaper was silently glad he had a mask covering his face, he was sure the fondness in his eyes would’ve been pointed out by Hana and gave him away. The young MEKA pilot seemed to love poking at him and 76, he was sure the young woman would be the first to reveal them given the chance.

As Cole and Fareeha rose to their feet, still smiling and laughing, Reaper took a moment to try and recompose himself. He didn’t know what to say to Cole. What could he say? Sorry for letting you take the blame for something that was staged, please don’t hate us.

Yeah right.

As far as he knew, Cole hated his guts, and rightfully so. He and Jack played dead, only to worm their way back into the newly reformed Overwatch through Angela. She and Ana were the only two living souls who knew both men were alive (other than Moira, but fuck Moira, he was still mad with her) and had kept their secret. It was enough of a surprise Ana hadn’t been upset with them, not that she could say much, having been hiding herself.

“Howdy, I reckon yer Reaper and Soldier: 76?” He sharply turned and looked at Cole, holding back a whine with how tense he seemed standing in front of the two masked men, two people he once called friends.

Thankfully, Jack spoke for them as Gabe hesitated, losing himself in painful memories of what was. “That’s right, feel free to call me ‘76’, or ‘Soldier’, I don’t care either way.”

Cole gave a little grin, Reaper noting he still seemed tense though he put up a good façade. “How ‘bout yer real name then?” Clever as always .

“I’m afraid we have a ‘no telling cowboys our names’ policy.” 76 sent Reaper a look at his comment, but he was smirking behind his white mask as Cole’s little grin grew, whiskey-brown eyes turning to him.

“That’s a downright shame, an’ here I thought y’all were lookin’ to make friends.”

“Perhaps with someone less outdated and so cheeky.” It felt so natural to fall back into playful banter, especially seeing the way Cole grinned and shot back just as well.

Before either Cassidy or Reaper could speak up again, 76 cut in. “I look forward to working with you, we’ve seen your face on the news a lot.”

Cassidy gave a cocky grin, almost looking relaxed if Reaper hadn’t known better. “I’m flattered, and maybe you old timers’ll be able to keep up.” Reaper let out a snort as 76 just gave a heavy sigh.

With that, Cassidy moved on, Fareeha excitedly introducing the cowboy to her girlfriend, Satya. The three falling into what seemed like a comfortable conversation, Cole laughing and smiling as they talked, a small glimpse back into what was and what had used to be.

Reaper was sharply nudged, turning to find 76 gesturing with his head to follow.

He obeyed silently, following the old soldier towards the exit, Winston giving a nervous nod as they left. If it was anyone else , they would have been questioned for leaving so early, but the ape had no discipline, he didn’t have the aura of a commander. Jack would’ve never allowed for someone to leave a meeting, no matter how informal, without a reasoning, Gabe not much different.

Both men remained silent, the white masked man constantly glancing over their shoulders as they subtly linked their pinky fingers together, heading to their shared room to undoubtedly speak in private.

There was no way 76 hadn’t seen the way Reaper spoke to Cassidy, he had to have heard the fondness in his voice, the way he longingly looked after him once the cowboy had gone off to meet the others. This conversation was, without a doubt, going to be a reminded of their goals and why Reaper was about to fuck everything up.

Chapter Text

After the meet-and-greet with the new team, Lena promptly led Cole to his room, grateful to find he wasn’t sharing the space with anyone else. Winston had mentioned the grunts slept in the barracks in bunk beds, twelve people to one room. The scientist went on to explain that only the recalled agents and important persons of interest got their own rooms since Watchpoint: Gibraltar wasn’t nearly as big as most of the other bases.

He thanked the pilot for her time, with the promise of catching up with her later in the rec room, and promptly threw his bag onto the bed before heading to shower. Cole couldn’t even remember the last time he was able to take a hot shower, take his time, and use shampoo and conditioner. This was about to become his new favourite room on base.

An hour later, a much cleaner and freshly groomed Cole Cassidy stepped out from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, sighing in content as he moved to crack open the window and take in the view.

“Yup,” he mumbled, “I could get used to this.” He thought about lightening up a cigarillo, but decided Angela deserved to check him over when he didn’t smell like gunpowder and smoke.

He watched the ocean for a few more minutes before turning away, moving to investigate the dresser and holding in a small laugh as he pulled it open to reveal all different types of underwear.

So that was why Winston had asked about his clothing size.

Cole quickly got the underwear situation sorted out, picking a pair of boxer briefs with a little potted cacti pattern, before heading to the wardrobe and flung it open. “Thank the gods.” Nearly every shirt was long sleeved, buttoned up, and different colours of plaid. There were several long sleeved t-shirts that were plain colours or had the Overwatch logo on them (he even spied a Blackwatch one, curious to who had picked that one out), as well as plain white t-shirts.

After wearing the same thing for years, a brown faded shirt with more than enough patched holes, he was glad to see so much selection of his usual comfort shirts. He pulled the drawer out, grinning as he saw different shades of blue jeans as well as several different pairs of swim trunks and sweatpants. He even spied a black two piece suit hidden behind his other various shirts when he went back to pick one.

He felt like a kid at Christmas as he grabbed one of the deep red plaid button up shirts and a pair of faded blue jeans.

Cole was quick to dress himself, making sure to roll up the sleeves, slip his boots back on, buckle up his belt, and grab his hat. He stood in front of the mirror longer than he ever had, examining himself, making sure every detail was perfectly in place. Although everyone had already seen him scruffy and gritty, he still wanted to make a more prominent impression on those who hadn’t seen him yet. And of course his trip to the break room was the perfect time for that.

It had been a good long while since Cole had been able to eat his fill, his diet mostly consisted of whatever he could pocket without being seen in a gas station in under a minute so he wouldn’t be recognized, snacking throughout the day. Somehow, rather than losing weight with his lack of eating larger meals, he seemed to pack it on due to what he was eating. Now that he would be getting full, proper meals as well as being able to pick and choose what he snacked on rather than what could be hidden under his serape, not to mention properly working out again, he was hoping to lose some of the belly he had filled out since escaping the Swiss base.

He didn’t particularly care that he was rounder than he had been back in the day, his abs hidden under a layer of fat, but his body armour was getting a little bit tighter each day and he loathed to have that conversation with Torbjörn willingly.

The plate had been made bigger when he first got it, one of the last days before he left. Gabe had told Torbjörn to make it a bit larger than Cole actually was. He was still ‘toothpick status’, as Gabe liked to call it, though he had gained a large amount of muscle and was almost the proper weight for a man his age at the time.

The embarrassment of being scrawny when he was brought in was now a god send, he could fly under the radar for a month or two as he lost some weight and Torbjörn would be none the wiser.

On the topic of food, Cole’s stomach gave a rumble. The cowboy stifled a laugh as he slipped out of his room and made his way down the hall, trying to stomp down the feeling of being exposed without his serape.

Winston had shown the layout of the base from a set of old fashioned paper blueprints, which wasn’t much different than the watchpoint in Texas that he and Gabe frequented. There had been a few differences, like where the hangers were and that Watchpoint: Dallas didn’t have nearly the same breathtaking views or satellites being ready to launch into space, but the general layout had been the same and that was good enough for Cole.

One of the similarities was that there was a large canteen for meals and snacks, but also a small kitchenette that wasn’t too far down from the gunslinger’s room, and just past that the rec room wasn’t much further down the hall. It was more of a glorified break room, if it was anything like Dallas, but it was specified that it was for recalled agents and persons of interest only.

If Cole was being honest, he was relieved that his room, as well as the kitchen, was locked away from just the underlings. He had been welcomed back with open arms by the team, surprised even Reaper and 76 hadn’t been completely rude towards him (something felt familiar about the encounter, but he couldn’t place his finger on it), but what had transpired between himself and the three mechanics left a bitter taste in his mouth that he’d like to limit as much as possible in future encounters. At least until all the dust had settled and he had earned back their trust.

Thankfully, the kitchen was empty, giving Cole time to case the place for what was stocked up.

Normally, he would have reveled in the chance to cook and make something that felt a little more personal, but he was hungry now and didn’t have the patience or willpower to wait much longer.

Cole was quick to pull out a small pot, filling it with water before setting it on the stove and turning it on. Before he could even open the cheap ramen packaging, a voice startled him as he nearly lost his grip on his meal.

“You know the canteen is open from 5 A.M to 11 P.M, right?” He turned to find the young MEKA pilot taping away at her phone, moving towards the fridge.

“‘Course I do, I just—”

“Lena and Brig told us what happened after you left, Winston made sure that the closest agent would be alerted by Athena if someone bothered you.”

Cole let out a huff, hunger forgotten as he set the ramen down to send a heated glare to Hana. “I can take care of m’self, I don’t need to be watched over.”

She shrugged, finally deciding on some sugary drink as she retrieved it and closed the fridge with her hip. “Whatever, go take it up with Winston if it’s a problem.”

Oh, he’d take it up with Winston alright. He already had a half-baked plan figured out of how to deal with this issue. He would just ask Lena, or Angela, or literally anyone else to join him for meals until he had the chance to prove himself to the others. But he didn’t need the AI to babysit him.

As soon as Hana left, Cole only now realising she had only looked up from her phone to grab her drink, he dumped out the water into the sink and may as well have slammed the package of ramen back into the cupboard in his anger. “Athena, where the fuck is Winston?”

She was quiet for a moment, Cole suddenly wondering if Gibraltar didn’t have the speakers and mics like Dallas did, but her voice came through one of the various speakers as soon as the thought had come to him. “He’s in his lab, top floor, room 328.”

Without acknowledging Athena, let alone even thanking her, Cole stormed off down the hall towards Winston’s lab. He was already made a fool of, people already didn’t trust him. If any of the recruits knew that their higher-ups were protecting Cole this much, it would just add fuel to the fire. What man needed protection from ‘what if’s or ‘maybe’s if he was truly innocent?

Regardless if the rest of the team believed in his innocence or not, he would not allow for any more rumours to start flying around.

Chapter Text

Cole leaned up against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched people filter in and took seats around the table. When Reaper and 76 entered, the latter moved to sit beside Angela, the former giving a brief nod to Cole, which he returned, before leaning against the wall at the back of the room.

Winston had called a meeting to discuss a lead they had gotten on a target a little over a week into Cole’s arrival. While Angela had medically cleared him with only a warning of don’t smoke, but I know you will anyway, so don’t do it inside , he had a clean bill of health, but the medic had barred him from missions until he fell into the groove of things. Therefore, anything regarding missions and gathering intelligence were near complete secrets to the gunslinger.

So naturally, Cole wasn’t quite sure of all the details, as it seemed to be very hush-hush, as most things the past week were. But the scientist had gathered up some of the team, specifically those who were good at getting intel, it seemed. He just wasn’t sure why he was suddenly allowed in on missions when Angela had banned him.

The medic was there for strategic purposes regarding support, Cole assuming 76 and Reaper had their own sources. Lena also sat at Winston’s side, everyone knew she had friends within MI6 and had a lot of favours to call in. Naturally, Zarya and Hana were there as well, both were here as volunteers and still answered to their home countries, therefore, they had their own sources of intelligence. Lastly, because of her high status with Helix, Fareeha was also there, sitting on Angela’s other side.

“That looks like everyone,” Winston started as he sat up at the head of the table. “I called you all here because we recently scouted a bounty,” he started, nervously wringing his large hands together, similar to when Cole had chewed him out a week ago.

76 scoffed as he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Are we bounty hunters now?” Winston either didn’t hear or he chose to ignore the old man, continuing on with maybe a little less confidence than he started with.

He suddenly grabbed a small octagon from his breast pocket of his oversized lab coat as he continued, sliding the device to the centre of the table. “Of course, you all know that unless we find some way to get funding, we’ll never be able to do what the world needs us to do. Athena, if you would.”

At once, the little device glowed a bright blue before several holoscreens appeared from it, different bits of information filling the screens that began to scroll at a leisurely pace. “Six months ago, Sojiro Shimada put out a bounty,” at the man’s name, Athena pulled up a younger image of him. He had crows feet at the corner of his sharp brown eyes, mouth pulled down into a frown. His long black hair was pulled back into a tight looking bun, head tipped up and looking down his nose at the photographer. There was also a woman with brown hair sitting in a regal looking chair, her eyes looking much kinder with a soft smile on her face, Sojiro standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders. On her lap sat a young child with hair just as black as their father’s, and her belly was round, suggesting another on the way.

Cole recalled several missions where he and Gabe headed out to Hanamura to try and infiltrate the Shimada’s, trying to ultimately take down the yakuza. Each and every single time felt like they had been set up over and over, never even able to get within 100 yards of the castle before guards or Sojiro himself intercepted them. On one occasion, the youngest son, a god damn sixteen year old with neon green hair, had been the one to stop them, gleefully cheering that Overwatch would never take down the criminal empire. Gabe only stopped when he had led over a hundred men and women to their deaths, and it had been an order from those seated above Morrison.

“We had it translated from Japanese to English, and it entails that his two sons, Hanzo Shimada and Genji Shimada, went out for drinks one night and didn’t return home. He wants them found and returned unharmed, and in return, he’ll be giving quite a bit of yen.” As he spoke, different parts of the contract spun around, highlighting the valuable information, as well as converting the yen to different currency types. About one hundred billion American dollars didn’t sound too bad, in Cole’s very humble opinion.

The two pictures of Hanzo and Genji appeared next, the younger of the two grinning from ear to ear that was strikingly similar to the first and last night they met all those years ago. Genji’s white shirt was undone the first couple buttons, black suit jacket carelessly open with tight fitting suit pants, his dyed neon green hair was still present and looked to be bordering on messy that matched the tie he held in his hand, and his clothing in general looked mildly ruffled as if he slept in them. While he looked scrawny, there was no doubt this man could hold his own, considering the family he grew up in. Cole would hazard a guess he was lean but fit under the mess of an outfit.

Hanzo, on the other hand, had his short, pitch black hair neatly slicked back, his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, suit vest and shirt done up and white sleeves nicely folded up to his elbows, showing off a large blue tattoo that vanished under the sleeve up his left arm and complimented the blue highlights of the suit. The tattoo easily directed the eye to the muscle on his arm, overall looking toned and stocky, a proper yakuza scion in a form fitting casual suit.

Cole was easily smitten by the latter, knowing he’d be getting acquainted with that image later tonight in the privacy of his room.

“We’ve contacted one of Sojiro’s people, and they’ve allowed us to take on this bounty. The only problem now is that there have been zero leads, which is where you all come in.” Cole leaned in slightly, curious as to how Winston was going to suggest they find the Shimada brothers.

Sure, Cole could find someone with less than a stellar lead, but at least there had been a lead. The Shimada’s had vanished into thin air, if the report by both Sojiro and the police scrolling on one of the screens was correct. Obviously, the first step was to go to the bar or club they visited, but how many were in Hanamura and how many had surveillance in the form of cameras? Then there was the question of if they would let them take that footage, and if they didn’t, what was the next step? Would anyone willingly give correct statements from events that happened over six months ago? What about the people who didn’t want the Shimada-gumi to continue on? Two heirs missing to the throne would certainly throw a wrench in some plans if something were to happen to Sojiro.

He wasn’t sure what Reaper and 76 could do, but they were vigilantes before showing up here, so they had to have some skills in that field and the connections. Lena was a pilot who was fairly decent at reading between the lines, but not without more information like himself, and he highly doubted the MI6 would have anything regarding the Shimada brothers. Fareeha, while catching up with Cole, had told him that Helix had been hovering around Europe, trying to suss out where Talon was hiding. Zarya and Hana were completely in the dark for Cole, he didn’t know what they could do, but Zarya seemed more inclined to use her muscles than her brain and Hana seemed bored to death sitting there as she tapped away on her phone.

He internally tsk’d at himself for the thought, he was the last person allowed to judge someone based on their looks.

Winston paused, almost looking ready to clam up and not speak, but he pushed on, his voice only quivering a tiny bit. “I know that, after Switzerland, some of you picked up mercenary work.” Cole tensed up, unintentionally moving his hand down to rest on Peacekeeper as the other settled on his hip by the stun grenades. That’s why he was here, not because he was good at what he did, but because he went rogue. He should have known. “And I don’t wish to seem like I’m using any of you, but one of you must have contacts.” So that was the plan, find outside sources and pay for the intel.

Normally, Cole wouldn’t have cared; it was a sound idea and one that had worked for Blackwatch a handful of times. But the assumption that, after everything , he sought out contract work instead of delivering his own brand of justice rubbed him the wrong way. He was still trying to make up for Deadlock and Blackwatch, trying to help out the little guys.

At once, Reaper took a few steps away from the wall, moving to stand behind Angela and 76. “I have one, but they require payment upfront.”

76 let out a huff as he turned and looked up at the other masked man. “But they won’t tell you if they actually have something or not until they get their money, it’s a huge gamble.”

“It is, but they haven’t let me down yet.” Reaper turned to address Winston, standing a little taller. “I’ll have your intel in two weeks.”

Winston seemed relieved as he gave a nod, standing up and moving to dismiss the meeting.

Cole quickly thought about his options, swiftly putting two-and-two together, as one thought came clear to his mind; he would not be outdone by some guy playing dress-up as the grim reaper.

“Two weeks is too long,” Cole started, pushing himself from against the wall as a plan formulated in his head. “I can get it by tomorrow night for free.”

All eyes turned to Cole, even Hana’s as she damn near dropped her phone to the table, Winston’s jaw dropping open in surprise. “ How ?” They expected him to be a lowlife? So be it, so long as he got his foot in the door.

He gave a little grin, moving to head out with a little wave of his hand. “As you said. Some of us picked up mercenary work.” Briefly, an ashamed look fell over Winston’s face, but Cole continued on, his point made. “Let’s just say I’ve got some mighty nice friends in nightly low places.”

No one stopped him as he turned and left without another word, which he didn’t mind, he needed to get to work fast, and on such short notice. There probably would be a price, but he was more than willing to pay it if it meant he got his foot in the door, finally staying in the loop of everything happening while forced to be off duty.

Cole made his way through the halls, autopilot engaging as he made his way up some stairs, took sharp corners, and vanished up to the rooftop. As suspected, the upper floors of the base were built damn near exactly like the ones in Dallas, but this one had a hell of a view.

The sun was at its highest point, and Cole could already imagine how breathtaking the sunset would be if he would just stop falling asleep before he was able to watch it (and maybe his age was finally catching up on him, but he wouldn’t ever suggest that). He peeked over the edge, able to see the waves crashing against the tall cliffs before retreating back into the ocean, only for them to come racing back once again. He should have convinced Gabe to bring him here at least once before everything had gone to hell.

Cole righted himself as he pulled out a small earpiece, grabbing a small purple chip the size of his pinky nail from one of his punches and set it down on the ground beside him as he sat down, legs dangling off the edge.

He slipped the earpiece on and tapped a small button on it three times, and at once a woman’s voice greeting him as the chip beside him suddenly glowed a faint purple.

“ Well, if it isn’t my favourite vaquero, did you put the disrupter down? ”

Cole gave a little grin. “Yes ma’am, don’t want no one listenin’ in.”

She gave a hum of amusement, Cole able to perfectly picture her leaned back in a chair as she examined her long nails. “ They grow up so fast, ” she teased, Cole barking out a laugh. “ Now, what do you need? ”

He placed a hand to his chest in feigned hurt. “Olivia, ya wound me! Can’t I talk t’my friend?”

It was her turn to bark out her own laugh. “ If that was the case, you would be talking to someone else. ” They shared a final laugh before falling silent, Cole giving a small nod to himself as he initiated the conversation.

“I need a favour.”

“ Most men like you do .”

“I need info, or a lead at least, on a bounty.”

“ By when? ”

“Lil’ over twenty-four hours.”

Olivia let out a loud groan, Cole perfectly able to see her hands covering her face before dropping to her lap. “ Which bounty? ”

“Shimada.” He could hear her typing away, quietly muttering to herself as she went. “I know ya usually want money, but I thought you’d like some of yer own intel to sell.”

“ And what kinda intel would it be? ”

He gave a little grin. “You’ll just have’ta wait and see, but I promise ya, it’s well worth yer while.”

“ You drive a hard bargain, Cole Cassidy. ”

“Only ‘cause ya taught me to, Olivia Colomar.” He paused, smirking to himself. “Meet me in the art gallery in Rialto at five local time, dress t’impress.”

“ You have a lot of faith I can get all the way to Italy and get you the intel you need in such a small time frame. ”

“I'm sure you’ve done more wit’ less time.”

“ I hate when you're absolutely right, ” he could hear the grin in her voice as the typing finally stopped. “ Your intel better be worth it, or else I’m charging you double .”

“Darlin’, Cole Cassidy always makes good on his promises.”

Olivia let out a snort before the clicking of keys returned. “ I'll see what I can do, nos vemos .”

“Cuídese.”

With that settled and ready to go, Cole pulled the earpiece away and back into one of his pouches, the little device blocking any recordings following it as it powered down.

Now, all that was left was to convince Lena that he wanted back in the tin can and to take him to Rialto.

For now, he’d just sit and enjoy the view.

Chapter Text

It was a lot easier to convince Lena than Cole had originally thought, apparently she was stuck on base quite a bit since she had been having problems with her newer chronal accelerator again , the last one destroyed by Doomfist when Winston, Lena, and himself went to arrest him years ago. So when he mumbled under his breath at lunch that he needed to sneak out, the pilot was damn near bouncing on the spot before blinking off to her plane, no questions asked.

Thankfully, the flight was much shorter this time, though the tin can still didn’t make him feel any better. As they came to a rolling stop, Cassidy was up and standing at the door, waiting for the all clear to open it. “How do ya feel safe in this thing?”

She laughed as she came over and nodded to him, Cole quickly released the door and pushed it open. “Trust me, I know when a plane’s safe, luv.”

He rolled his eyes but exited the craft swiftly and calmly, quick to pull off his serape before balling it up and throwing it back into the plane behind the pilot. “Right, meet back here at ten tonight local time, and don’t get caught.” Lena gave a nod, suddenly gone in a streak of blue.

Cole let out a small sigh before briskly taking off towards the nearest road as he rolled down both of the sleeves on his black and red plaid shirt, tucking the bottom of his shirt into his dark grey dress pants, and sliding on nice looking gloves. His hat was replaced with slicked back hair, his beard and moustache trimmed down a little so it looked less wild, all the hair on his head dyed blond with a spray dye, contacts in giving him blue eyes, his usual boots replaced with a shiny new pair he had yet to break in. He was going for the ‘rich American on vacation’ look, plus he needed to conceal his identity as much as he could. He was sure, even with Gabe’s death, that his former commander was still a wanted man here, no doubt Cole would be in the same boat along with Moira. Gabe had made such a mess.

It didn’t take long to flag down a hovercar, a short and round woman rolling down the window and giving him a wary look. “Hello, miss,” he started, internally wincing at his own Italian. “I am tourist on holiday with wife and lost.”

The woman gave him a long look of pity, gesturing to the other side of her car. “Are you heading into Rialto?” She asked in accented English, Cole grateful he didn’t have to embarrass himself further.

“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed as he made his way over to the other side, sliding in as the woman took off again. “The name’s Clint, and I’m mighty glad ya found me when ya did.”

She casted a long sideways glance before looking back forward. “I’m Greta,” she introduced herself, pausing for a heartbeat before continuing. “Why is that?”

“Well, ya see, got separated from m’lovely wife, Bianca, and asked some local kids for directions.” Cole leaned back in his seat, internally wincing as his drawl got thicker, pressing a hand to his chest as if the made-up story actually wounded him. “They offered t’drive me, an’ next thin’ I knew, I’m stuck smack dab right out in t’middle o’nowhere!” Despite her look of concern, Cole was able to catch a subtle smile on her face as she relaxed into her seat ever so slightly.

After that, the conversation flowed a lot more slowly, Cole making sure to keep his side of things trivial that he and Olivia had covered in quick back-and-forth texts before she had announced she was on her way. His drawl had stayed stuck in contractions, combining more words together than he ever had in his entire life that mildly reminded him of his abuelita, and how she slapped one word after another in some horrific combinations that even made his mama have to stop and question just what in the sweet hell “it’dn’t’ve” meant.

Thankfully, as the topics and questions started to get a little more prodding past the typical ‘where do you work’ and ‘how long have you been married’, Cole spotted Olivia looking down at her phone, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she kept anxiously glancing down at the device.

The world class hacker was wearing a lower-thigh length black-to-red gradient dress, lips a dark red, and a long haired dark brown wig hiding the spine modifications and the technology on the side of her head. By the looks of it, she even filled in the shaved spots she had in her eyebrows and covered up the beauty mark under her eye.

As soon as he caught her attention, Olivia shoved her phone into her little purse and ran over towards the car, Cole quickly telling Greta to slow down.

Cole took one step out of the hovercar and instantly, Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the tips of her toes. “Oh, mi amor! I was so worried about you!”

He had to give her credit, Olivia absolutely sounded like a desperate wife missing her husband.

“Don’t ya worry none, sugar, this nice lady right ‘ere found me an’ brought m’back t’ya.”

Olivia turned to Greta, a faint blush on the woman’s cheeks as Olivia began thanking her in English, Spanish, and even some Italian that didn’t sound half bad.

Eventually, Cole gently pulled her away, thanking the woman again before the ‘couple’ began their walk into the art gallery, Olivia taking his right arm in her grasp. “Layin’ it on real thick, ain’tcha?” He asked quietly, trying to stomp down his inner abuelita while holding in a wince as he felt Olivia’s nails dig into his flesh.

“I don’t have a clue what your talking about, mi amor .”

Cole just let out a huff, both remaining silent as he put some money in for a donation and entered the art gallery. It brought him back to the Blackwatch days of his life, the anger he felt for what Gabe had done bubbling up after eight years .

It was an easy mission, they grab Antonio, and then interrogate him. But no , Gabe had to kill him on the spot for the attempt on Gérard’s life. Cole had been furious, as much as he liked to bump shoulders with authority, he knew when to keep in line and do as he was told. Sure, there was a good chance that Antonio’s friends in the government and Talon would have bailed him out, but they still could have gotten some intel instead of completely exposing Blackwatch. They had a plan and they should’ve followed it, instead, Gabe completely and single handedly fucked them over and got himself, along with the rest of Blackwatch, benched.

Both Blackwatch and Overwatch’s commanders were constantly in and out of United Nations meetings for what felt like a century, Morrison trying to convince Director Petra that the secret branch was doing good acts while Gabe was forced to kiss ass so he wouldn’t get a dishonourable discharge. Once the word had gotten out about Blackwatch, though, everything seemed to only go further downhill from there.

“I’ll never understand what people see in art, how is there any joy in looking at a bunch of weirdly shaped lines that make nothing?” Cole was pulled from his thoughts as he looked at Olivia, the hacker giving a bored look to the… circle with a light in the centre…?

“Some people don’t find joy in rearranging numbers like you.”

Olivia let out a chuckle. “Their loss.” She teased, Cole rolling his eyes before they moved onto the next installation. “My girlfriend would like this place, you should see her house.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s its own gallery with how much artwork she has.”

Cassidy couldn’t help but give a tiny smirk. “Does she know yer on a date with lil’ ol’ me?” Olivia let out a huff.

“If this is your idea of a date, I feel sorry for the poor fool you’re dating.”

“Aw, c’mon darlin’, thought you said yer girlfriend likes art, this’ll make a perfect date for her.”

“Then you won’t mind if I steal that idea.”

“I charge ya five million credits for it.”

“You can’t prove that I didn’t have the idea first, plus I have enough dirt on you to ensure that you’ll reconsider.”

Cassidy let out a snort, amused Olivia hadn’t changed over the year long radio silence. “Damn, willin’ to drag me through the mud for yer girl, must be somethin’ special.” Cole paused for a moment, smirking. “So, when do I getta meet her?”

Olivia made some embarrassed noise under her breath as she waved him off, cheeks flushed. “You… you wouldn’t like her, she’s a big fan of spiders.” He wasn’t sure how that indicated that he wouldn’t want to meet the woman Olivia was seeing, the younger one had dragged him along enough times in the past to meet other lovers she had, some he approved of, some he didn’t, one fellow got his face smashed in when Cole caught him slipping something into Olivia’s drink.

Why Olivia was being so shy about this woman, unlike her other ventures, he’d never know, but he wouldn’t push it further.

Before he could say more, something moved just outside his field of view, quickly turning to see an omnic in a black waistcoat and white shirt coming towards them. Olivia seemed to see the omnic as well, tensing up on his arm as her nails dug into the flesh slightly. In hindsight, he should have offered her the metal arm if he knew she liked to dig in.

“Buona sera signore e signora , good evening sir and madam. Vuoi una visita guidata? Would you like a guided tour?” It mildly fucked with Cole hearing the words he was trying to translate to English in his head, he always needed a minute to translate Italian on the best of days and today was no different.

Quick as a whip, faster than Olivia could decline, Cole nodded, holding back a shit eating grin as her long nails dug into his arm harshly to display her disapproval quietly. “Sure, mighty fine ya came along when ya did, we were just wonderin’ ‘bout some of the pieces.” The omnic seemed pleased to have something to do as they nodded, turning and gesturing to the piece they had been sitting at before the omnic had wandered over.

For the first time in a long time, Cole allowed himself to relax and listen to the guide as they spoke of the instalments, the artist an omnic woman named Leonora Botruvio, who was a celebrated artist within the art community.

As their guide continued to explain each piece and give its history, more people joined in, Cole able to feel Olivia press her side closer to his as she grew more tense. He wasn’t surprised, she didn’t care for normal social interactions most of the time. She could ruin a person’s life in seconds if she truly wanted to, he knew for that reason she had very few people within her social circle that she liked, let alone trusted. Not to mention the Omnic Crisis completely tore both of their lives asunder, leaving Olivia orphaned, forced to fend for herself, and Cole stuck with Deadlock then eventually shipped off to Blackwatch.

Finally, the tour came to an end, the small group they had collected dispersing quite quickly while Cassidy made sure he and Olivia stuck around. He tipped an invisible hat to the omnic, sending them a kind smile. “Thank ya for yer time.” The omnic simply dipped their head, hands folded behind their back. “S’all right if I tip ya?”

He was sure if an omnic could blush, the one before him would have turned beat red as their hands came forward, giving a small shake of his head. “O-oh, sir, that’s not necessary, it is my pleasure to give guided tours of the installations.”

Cole shook his head, pulling out a wallet that looked more like two pieces of fabric stitched together than something one of his persona’s social status would have. He pulled out a couple hundreds, quick to place them in the omnic’s hands, closing their hands around the bills. “I want to, it ain’t any skin off my back.” He didn’t mention the fact that, whenever he saw an omnic, it reminded him of Deadlock and made him guilty. He would quietly help when he could until the guilt went away (though he was mighty sure it never would).

The omnic was speechless for a moment before bowing deeply. “Thank you sir, I wish you and your companion safe travels.” Cassidy tipped the invisible hat again, turning and leading Olivia out into the cooler evening air.

“That was a surprisingly touching moment.” She commented quietly, Cole giving a half shrug.

“The Omnic Crisis ain’t all their faults, no point bein’ rude to all of ‘em.”

Quietly and almost somberly, the two slipped into a nearby café, Olivia choosing the table closest to the counter but far enough in the back to almost go unnoticed in the near empty room. Cole was fine with that, he knew the owner of the joint and was confident that they were safe for now.

“So, your payment.”

Cole let out a small chuckle as he leaned back in his seat, the mood lightening back up as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That ain’t how this works, Liv, flash drive first.” The younger one rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded like Spanish, popping out a small purple and silver flash drive with her stylized sugar skull in a reddish-orange colour that she held between her index and middle finger.

He was quick to take it from her, rotating it around to inspect it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had handed him a fake. He had been short on cash and she had, in return, only given him a flash drive with half of the information he needed. He eventually figured out her cryptic clues to finish the job, but he wasted weeks trying to fill in some of the gaping blanks.

Right now, he absolutely needed this drive to have every single piece of information she had.

“Now, I held up my half of the deal, your turn.” Both sets of brown eyes met, Olivia giving a tiny smirk as she quirked up an eyebrow.

Subtly, Cassidy leaned forward, Olivia mimicking as she suddenly brought her hands up to prop her head up. “Can’t quite say who’s all back yet, but the band’s comin’ back t’gether.” A small flash of confusion crossed Olivia’s face before Cole continued. “Overwatch’s back in business.”

Her eyes got comedically wide, Cole unable to suppress his smirk entirely. “But the Pretras Act… there’s no way it’s legal.”

“It ain’t, but when’s that ever stopped us?” He teased, Olivia letting out a snort. “I can give ya names, but you gotta wait a month to sell this intel.”

“Why a month?”

“Can’t let’em know I was the one to give it to ya, still buildin’ up trust and shit.”

Olivia was quiet for a moment as she leaned back in her chair, Cole easily able to see the gears turning. “I don’t get it, isn’t Overwatch your family or something? Why are you selling them out?”

Never had Cole wished he had his hat to hide his face more than right this moment, casting his eyes down and away to the floor. “Hard t’feel somethin’ towards the people who found it mighty convenient to blame everythin’ on ya.” He paused, mulling over his thoughts and what he deemed would be too much to tell an excellent blackmailer. “Besides, my only family was killed in the explosion that he and I apparently caused.” He refused to look up, he didn’t want to see the look of pity he was sure Olivia would be sending.

Obviously not everyone held a grudge against him; Angela looked nothing but relieved to see him again, Lena’s little arms around his waist hugging him close, Reinhardt ready to get piss drunk in celebration, Brigitte ready to defend his honour despite not even knowing him, Fareeha chiding him for not coming home sooner. After the reunion meeting with the group, meeting new and old faces, it was easy to tell who believed he had done Overwatch in. Torbjörn in particular gave him a nasty look as he pointedly kept away, and the sweet and kind Mei had held back from anything more than a timid ‘hello’ and a handshake. She hadn’t been there when the fall happened, but clearly she had read up on the official reports that were written and published publicly. Everyone else seemed to hate or like him in varying degrees, but he was just glad to find out the Swiss base as well as the old Overwatch days were banned topics.

“Why did you go back to them if you hate them all?”

“Why’re ya a double agent?”

Olivia let out a scoff. “My interests don’t align with Talon, but it’s easier to take an organisation down from the inside.” She gave a pause. “But I know your interests line up with Overwatch, so excuse my confusion.” Olivia snarked, crossing her arms over her chest.

She wasn’t wrong, both he and the others wanted to end Talon and save the world, but, seemingly unlike the others, only Cassidy could see how their larger actions messed with the little guys, the everyday civilians. The old Overwatch played by the rules, waiting for permission, sent out only in times of a crisis, did everything by the books, but it was Blackwatch that threw all that out. How many lives had the small team saved while Overwatch was forced to wait for the United Nations to give the go ahead? He still didn’t agree with what Gabe had done to Antonio, but with his death came a power struggle within Talon that they were able to track, leading to more busts that Overwatch took advantage of.

It was through that one death that led them to Maximilien, finding out he was Doomfist’s financier. The omnic didn’t spill anything, but it had seemingly got Doomfist anxious and out in the open, that’s all Overwatch needed to send Winston, Lena, and himself out to arrest him.

Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder though, how many lives had they completely destroyed because Overwatch had bigger fish to fry and couldn’t be bothered to help the civilians they had unintentionally screwed over by the power shift within Talon? Of course arresting Doomfist was important, but clearly it was all for nothing since he had broken out. Why couldn’t they have sent out smaller units to help those in the wake of Antonio’s death? Why couldn’t they be doing what Cassidy had since he left? Sure, he was a one man band at the moment, but he had been making infinitely more progress than Overwatch had.

“I need money to keep travelin’ as much as I do.” He replied easily, giving a small shrug. It wasn’t a complete lie, he certainly did need more money, but it wasn’t for travelling, it was to rebuild people’s lives. He didn’t want another kid thinking it was their duty to leave home, join a gang, and send home any pitiful scraps they got just because no one could be bothered even a little with helping a war torn state.

Olivia didn’t look convinced but seemed to know better than to argue. “Whatever, not my business,” she paused, “yet,” she let out a small chuckle before suddenly sighing and holding out her hand. “Give me the drive back, it only has half the data you’ll need.”

Glad for having the conversation shift away from the cowboy, he gave her a grin to mask his inner turmoil, pressing a hand to his chest. “Olivia, I can’t believe ya would’ve swindled me!”

She let out a snort as he pulled the flash drive out of his pocket and handed it back to her. “I have to protect myself somehow, you know how many people sell me fake information every day?” She quickly set a different flash drive in his hand, visually similar except the sugar skull was stark white instead of a reddish-orange.

Before they could decide what to do next, Olivia suddenly sat bolt upright, eyes widening slightly. “Shit,” she hissed in Spanish, suddenly reaching into her little purse and sliding a pair of glasses to Cole as she switched back to English. “Put those on and glance over to the tv under the counter.”

“What—”

“Just put them on!” She hissed quietly, tapping her nails nervously against the table.

He wanted to question how she could possibly know there was a television under the counter, he only knew about it because he had watched the owner bend down to turn it off and on once or twice back when the Rome base was up and running.

Doing as he was told without protest, he slid on the glasses and had to hold in a gasp as he could suddenly see profiles beside everyone’s heads. He could see police records, name changes, social insurance numbers, birth dates, immediate family, everything .

He couldn’t help but look at Olivia only to be met with much of her file missing, he wasn’t sure if it was intentional on her part or that whatever government databases she had hacked into didn’t have anything on her.

Finally, he glanced over to the counter, able to see the screen through the thick wood as well as subtitles popping up beside the screen to translate the spoken language to English. He wasn’t sure what had caught Olivia’s attention at first, it seemed to just be the typical evening news, until the news anchors went to speak with another anchor on the scene with—

“Sonovabitch!” On the screen was the woman—Greta, was it?—speaking quickly, saying she had driven the famous outlaw, Cole Cassidy in disguise, into Rialto to meet with a woman.

The subtitles quickly informed him that she had only done it out of fear of her life, Cassidy grinding his teeth in frustration. As if he would’ve hurt a defenceless woman, though now he wasn’t quite so sure a snitch counted as innocent.

“We need to go.” Olivia hissed, swiping the glasses from his face and roughly shoved them back in her purse as she stood.

Cassidy nodded in agreement, knowing that some sort of military would be coming for him sooner rather than later. As he moved to stand, an older man quickly walked over, looking nervous. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he started with a deep accent, Cole unintentionally slipping a hand into his pocket to grab the pocket knife sitting against his hip. “You used to come here with that French fellow before your Overwatch base in Rome got destroyed.” Gérard , he mentally supplied, releasing the grip of the hidden blade.

“I’ve never much liked politics,” the old man continued, “but you have really done some good despite what the news says.” He glanced around, Cassidy mimicking, before he gave a gentle tug to Cassidy’s shirt. “Come with me, I can sneak you both out of here.”

Cole cast a look to Olivia, she looked reluctant, but Cassidy decided that, if the man betrayed them, the two of them could easily take whatever awaited them. “Alright, lead the way.”

The man nodded, turning to head behind the counter. Cassidy was quick to grab the hacker’s hand, pulling her along as they slipped behind the counter. “Cassidy,” she hissed quietly, pausing both himself and their impromptu guide as they moved out of sight from the main room. “Get out of here yourself, my translocator’s up.” That made sense, of course she would have thought about getting out fast if she needed to.

“Alright, take care, and remember; you’ve gotta wait a month!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, now get out of here, I want to see how high you can get your bounty.” Cassidy barked out a laugh, turning back to follow the old man as he heard the telltale noise of Olivia recalling back to her translocator.

The man gave a nod, looking mildly surprised, but continued on, leading Cole down a narrow set of stairs. “This leads to a cellar, and through there we have a secret tunnel that opens up to an old storm drain.”

“Storm drain?” Cassidy echoed, the man nodding.

“The entrance got closed up in the 1930’s, but no one ever came to seal up the exit.” They came to a stop at a solid looking door, the man typing in a code to the keypad. “It’s about 25 kilometres to the exit. If you keep to the left when it branches out, it’ll lead you to a dried up river.” Cole followed the man into the cellar, quickly converting the distance in his head to imperial.

“15 and a half miles don’t sound mighty fine to walk.”

“You could try leaving the same way you came in, though I suppose it would be much harder considering people know who they’re looking for now.”

Cole let out a small huff, watching as the man pulled up several floorboards. “15 and a half miles suddenly sounds great t’walk.”

“That’s the spirit.” The old man said dryly, standing back up with a huff and grunt, reaching for an old fashioned map.

Cole leaned in to get a better look, not having seen a paper one since his Deadlock days. “Didn’t know they still made ‘em like this.” He said, unable to keep the mild surprise out of his voice.

The old man seemed to swell with pride, unable to keep a small smile off his face. “Most places don’t, I drew and mapped this out myself.” Well, he was certainly impressed, wondering how long this man had spent sitting on his escape plan. “The grate at the end will be locked, but I don’t doubt a man of your calibre will have troubles with that.” Cassidy let out a small chuckle, the man directing his small smile to Cassidy. “Now hurry, the sooner you’re out of Venice, the better.”

Cassidy nodded, glancing down to see a hole just wide enough for him to jump down. “Before I go, what’s yer name? Might send a postcard with a nice lookin’ cheque.”

The man let out a soft laugh, giving a small shake of his head. “You don’t have to pay me for my kindness, Mr. Cassidy, but if it will help you sleep at night, my name is Niccolò Nardelli.”

Cole gave a small tip of an invisible hat. “Many thanks to ya, Mr. Nardelli.” Niccolò gave a clipped nod, Cole looking back down before jumping in.

At once, the tunnel fell into darkness as Niccolò covered up the entrance, Cassidy grumbling to himself as he fished out his communicator and found he had just enough bars to make a quick call to Lena.

Before he could even get out a ‘hello’, Lena spoke first. “ I saw your face on the news, luv, where’d you hole up? ”

“Nowhere, this old fella led me down to an abandoned storm drain from the 1900’s, ‘parently it’s about 25 kilometres long through the shortest set of drains, ends in some sort of dried up river.” Cassidy let out a small hum, tapping a metal finger to his chin. “Reckon that’s ‘bout a five hour walk, yeah?”

“ Athena just ran a simulation, she thinks you could cut that down quite a bit if you jog for most of it .”

“Sweetheart, I don’t jog.” Lena let out a muffled laugh, the young Brit most likely covering her mouth as to not seem so rude. “I’ll ping ya my location once I’m out, stay outta sight ‘til then.”

“ You got it, I’ll make sure Winston knows we’ll be delayed getting back .”

They exchanged goodbyes quickly, Cole wanting to get going as soon as he could.

He stalled a few seconds longer by entering Niccolò’s name and the café into a notes tab in his communicator, quickly typing out he owed money. He was not looking forward to the blisters he would get from the new boots, but he wasn’t sure what could be on the ground that he could step in, so he let out a huff and decided he would just suck it up.

The five hours went by without much interest, he found a half crumbled part of the wall which he had the absolute pleasure of watching a rat scurry into. As he walked away from the entrance, he had quickly lost service but his communicator had become a flashlight anyways. His feet ached like nothing else, the new boots doing their very best to get Cole to hate them. About two hours into his walk he had really debated carrying the boots, but if he stepped on something that needed more treatment than anything he could do, he knew it would give Angela a chance to bench him longer and he didn’t want that, so he would continue to quietly suffer.

Finally, after five hours and 25 kilometres, he was able to just see the grate at the end of the tunnel, quick to pick up the pace as he turned off the communicator and shoved it into his pocket.

He came to a stop at the grate, peering out into the night to see a small fire and some people, most likely teens, and some horrible sounding techno music playing. At least the noise that was an excuse for music would cover any noise he would make by opening the grate.

Cole dropped down to one knee, examining the old age lock that was just a keyhole in the grate. Luckily, thanks to his Deadlock days and Ashe’s insisting, he had plenty of experience with all sorts of locks.

Pulling back, he held out his prosthetic arm, rolling up the sleeve and popped open a small slot near the bend of his elbow, a barebone lock picking kit stowed away for these types of emergencies.

With the finesse of a man picking a lock in the dark, he managed good enough and popped the grate open with no problems, and after the day he had, he was glad this was the hardest part of escaping thus far.

Cassidy quietly jumped down into the old riverbed, quick to shut the grate behind him and relock it, giving a nod to himself before slinking into the shadows and making his way south, away from the teens. No need to freak them out if they knew about his presence in Rialto.

Once a good distance away with the fire only a tiny dot and the music a dull hum, he pulled out his communicator, quickly pinging his location to Lena, and continued moseying his way south as he waited for the Brit to arrive.

Chapter Text

“Is the blindfold really necessary at this point? We took two rights, then a left, then we walked down the hall for about fifty-seven steps, before finally making another left into this room.” Said blindfold was ripped from his head, bright overhead lights temporarily blinding Genji as he squinted his eyes.

“Be quiet unless I ask you to speak.” Doctor O’Deorain’s voice was deadpan as per usual as she shut and locked the door behind him, Genji allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright white lights as the doctor made her way to the control booth.

He took this time to examine the room, wondering what lovely tests he’d be put through today.

The plain white room was mostly empty, a small weapons rack with several different poles made of wood resting against the metal rack. There were also a couple gym mats on the ground that looked somewhat cheap, mild dread filling him at the thought of fighting someone. It wasn’t that he was afraid he’d lose, even starved and forced to sit around a glorified cage most of the day, he knew he was the smartest assassin (on par with his brother, of course) in the facility. He just didn’t want to give O’Deorain more data to work with than they already had.

Besides the poles, mats, and Genji himself, the room was barren. Much like her sex life , came Genji’s intrusive thoughts, unable to stop the corner of his mouth from tipping up in unbridled teenage-like amusement.

“ Are you ready, Mr. Shimada? ” Asked O’Deorain, her voice coming from a speaker somewhere in the room.

Genji glanced over to the one-way mirror, rolling his eyes as he put on a show, stretching his arms above his head. “I don’t think so, I didn’t get a chance to do my morning stretches,” he paused to reach down to touch his toes, “or is it nightly stretches?” He rose back up to twist his torso one way then the other. “It’s hard to tell when there’s no clocks or windows.” He sent a glance to the mirror, smirking.

“ You truly are a disappointing man .”

“Aw, come on, you just adore me, O’Deorain.”

She must have not clicked the mic off as a huff came through, Genji holding in a snicker. “ Pick a staff from the rack and summon the spirit .”

“Straight to the point like always, did you know that’s considered, to most playboys like myself, as being rude in the bedroom?” He gave a small pause, prolonging the inevitable with a hand coming up to stroke his beard in faux contemplation. He couldn’t wait to shave it off the first chance he got, it was bad enough he was catching up in the streaks of grey department like Hanzo.

“More rather,” he continued on, “being rude anywhere , scenes don’t have to be bedroom exclusive. If you’d like, I can give you some pointers since you seem like you’ve hit a dry spell, maybe you’d let up some and stop thinking that it’s a-okay to experiment on people if I helped you get some.”

Genji couldn’t hold back his grin as he heard at least one muffled laugh through the speaker, but Doctor O’Deorain didn’t seem to be in one of her neutral moods today as she answered swiftly and sharply. “ We can always disable your brother’s other leg, maybe perhaps remove them all together. He would be much more malleable if he were unable to resist my experiments, don’t you think? ”

Genji’s smirk turned to a scowl as he glared at the mirror. “No, that won’t be happening.”

“ Then go pick a staff and summon the dragon .”

Begrudgingly, Genji made his way to the rack, unsure what the different lengths meant and if O’Deorain intended for him to try them all.

He decided to pick a staff that came up to about his hips, feeling mildly homesick as he thought about his beloved katana back in Japan. When they got out of here, Genji would be sure to show the doctor just how deadly they could be without their dragons.

He spun the staff in his hands a few times, getting acquainted with the weight of the flimsy piece of wood, stalling. Please, just stay away , he silently begged the bundle of energy that he had come to understand was the dragon spirit.

“ Firstly, I’d like you to hold out your arm with the staff and try to summon it like that .”

Hanzo and himself had somewhat talked about this, during times when one or the other was on the verge of passing out since it had apparently been a sensitive topic for Hanzo. The dragon’s required a direct line from their tattoos to the weapon the very few times they had managed to summon them. Hanzo had to hold a weapon in his left arm and Genji had to draw his weapon from his back. At this point, O’Deorain knew this too, so he wasn’t sure what she was building up to.

“You know it doesn’t work like that, so why bother trying?” He gave a short pause. “Gods above, I doubt I’ll even be able to summon it today.” It was a lie, more filler to pad his runtime. The energy stored along his spine told him that, no, it was ready to break free from the cage that was his tattoo.

“ I am aware, just do as you’re told. ”

Genji let out a small huff, begrudgingly holding out his arm with the pole. “I summon thee, o great spirit dragon.” He muttered in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Father when he told stories of the dragons. He simply rolled his eyes when, surprise surprise, the green dragon didn’t appear.

“ Good, now place the weapon down on the ground and use your arm as the conductor with your back. ” Genji tensed up, he had never summoned it like that before. As far as the brothers and scientist knew, there needed to be a conductor and it had only seemed to work with something that could be used as a weapon. “ We are waiting, Mr. Shimada .”

Hesitantly, he set the pole down, trying to ignore how it suddenly felt like the energy within him doubled. He was going to die, he was sure of it.

With a shaky hand, he reached up and over his shoulder, palm resting along the base of his neck. Please don’t kill me , he silently begged.

Genji’s gasp filled the otherwise quiet room, feeling an almost burning sensation on his hand and along his arm as he felt the dragon’s energy leave him. He quickly pulled his hand away to his chest, as one would do when burned, and came face to face with the dragon for the third time since O’Deorain played with their genetic code.

A high pitched woman’s voice thundered in his mind this time though, his eyes widening further as he saw the dragon’s mouth move ever so slightly.

You are not ready .

And just like that, the dragon surged back into him, causing Genji to scream as the burn followed her through his body, never having this happen before.

He dropped to the ground, curling in on himself as the heat tore through him, not one spot on Genji’s body safe from her-- it-- the monster’s touch. Everything was ringing, he couldn’t hear anything as his breathing sped up, his heart threatening to crawl up and out of his throat. He felt like he was drowning in his own breath, unable to fill his lungs no matter how much he tried.

Briefly, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was a panic attack.

When he was younger he had them more frequently, especially after the elders told Hanzo to kill him, but as he grew older they began to happen only when he completely lost control. The burning and overall feeling of dying was certainly the trigger, if only he could just calm down like Zenyatta had taught them, and he tried for a moment, trying to regain his breath and peace of mind. But, as he covered his ears with his hands and curled even tighter into the fetal position, all he could think of was that death was certain and everything had spiralled out of his control past the point of recapture.

And the burning . Everything felt like it was on fire, his skin, his lungs, his eyes, hands, feet, hair, nose, nails, teeth, everything .

For the first time in a long time, Genji’s thoughts went back to that night, the night Sojiro woke him and told Genji of what the elders had commanded Hanzo to do, his older brother standing by the door with a guilty look, unable to meet his eyes, his own glassy and scared like Genji had never seen before. That look had never quite left Hanzo’s eyes, catching it when his brother thought Genji wasn’t looking.

When he tried to go back to bed, all he could think of was Hanzo coming at him with his blade, slicing him into a million pieces, leaving him for some feral animal to eat. Thankfully, his father had understood, and, at 17 years old, was allowed to crawl into his father’s futon for the first time since he was 5 as he cried himself to sleep, terrified to never wake again.

Before, Zenyatta would only have private sessions with Hanzo, Genji always having a family session with his father and brother or alone with only Hanzo. After the humiliation of sleeping with his father, Zenyatta spent most of Genji’s days when he wasn’t busy getting drunk and high with companionship, Genji able to unload everything on the omnic’s shoulders as they worked through the consequences of the elders’ actions. Even now, sixteen years later, Zenyatta was still there to speak with him, to soothe him after a rather rough night terror.

And now, Genji was alone, no omnic or brother to shield him from himself.

He remained in his own personal burning hell for what felt like years, until, finally , he was able to make out several voices, the worst of the panic ebbing away as his breaths came in a little easier. Genji dared a peak up from his knees to find several medics surrounding him, administering different injections with not-so-small needles as well as being hooked up to what he assumed was an impromptu IV drip that one of the medics was holding.

O’Deorain was standing off to the side of the room, a holopad in her hands as she tapped something out, her assistant standing by her side as they quietly relayed information to the lead scientist.

Once their eyes met, O’Deorain made her way over, handing off her holopad to her assistant. “I see you’re back with us, were you aware you were crying for your brother for the last half an hour?” Genji remained silent, curling back up again as he looked away. “Regardless, I would like to know how you felt before your little episode, this was certainly new progress.”

“Go fuck yourself.” He croaked out, his throat feeling like it had been rubbed raw. He suddenly wondered if he had been crying for Hanzo the entire time, half glad it hadn’t been Zenyatta’s name. He didn’t want to think about what she would do to the omnic to hurt the brothers further.

O’Deorain let out a tsk , crouching down in front of him and gripping his throat with her deformed hand, forcing him to sit up or be choked as those long nails dug into his skin. “I don’t have time for games, tell me what I want and we will conclude today’s session.”

Genji internally fought with himself. On one hand, he was so ready to just be done and over with this, but on the other, he didn’t want to help this bitch or Talon gain any information.

“Burned,” he muttered, “everything burned.”

O’Deorain let out a hum, letting go of his neck as she stood, gesturing to her assistant and at once they began typing away. “Go on.” She urged.

Genji weakly sat up on his knees, hunched over with his head bowed as he took in deep breaths, still feeling mildly breathless and achy, the heat lingering as if to mock him. “That’s it, it just burned.” He decidedly kept that the dragon spoke to himself, wanting to figure that out with his brother alone.

She let out a non committal hum, steepling her hands together. “Such a shame, out of you two, you’re the one who gives me more information that I can use.” O’Deorain gestured to the medics around Genji, and at once they were trying to help him stand.

His eyes lit up suddenly, smirking inwardly as he looked up to the scientist from the ground. “Actually, there was one other thing,” he paused as she turned to face him, “you’re a cold hearted bitch who’ll never have anyone to hold or love, and I hope one day I’ll be the one to kill you.” Just as O’Deorain rolled her eyes, Genji grabbed one of the many syringes resting on the floor that had yet to be picked up and jumped at the woman, both falling to the floor as he pulled his arm back as stabbed into her neck, repeating the action as fast as he could to try and end everything right here, right now.

As expected, he was pulled back by several of the medics as they disarmed him, both himself and O’Deorain covered in her blood. Genji almost let out a wail as she slowly sat up, leaning on one arm as she was suddenly holding up a large, golden orb in her good hand that came from a little device in her palm, a small stream flowing towards her neck as the wounds healed and sealed back up.

With a bloody cough, she glared at him, wiping the blood from her lips as she stood. “You will regret that, Shimada.”

Lightening fast, she reached forward, digging her nails into his scalp as she twisted his long hair around in her hand, beginning to drag him towards the door.

He cried out in pain, trying to get to his feet, but one of the guards following only smirked and kept kicking his feet out from under him, ensuring that he would feel the painful pulling the entire way. “Prepare Subject Sigma for trials,” O’Deorain snapped to her assistant as she turned her head to spit out blood, Genji barely hearing as he clung to her wrist to try and lessen the pull on his hair. He couldn’t believe how much strength she held for such a tall and lanky woman.

Finally, he was thrown down onto the ground, feeling familiar calloused hands pulling him away from O’Deorain. He glanced up to find Hanzo staring at the scientist, turning to see her cold, glaring eyes were on him. “Perhaps you should teach your brother his place.” She hissed, glancing over to Hanzo before she turned and slammed the cell door shut.

Before Hanzo could chastise Genji, a short woman with a half shaved head and the tips of her hair dyed purple just... appeared in the room, O’Deorain glancing over with her ever unimpressed look. “What do you want, Sombra?” She snapped.

Genji perked up at that despite his throbbing head and aching chest, he had heard of this ‘Sombra’ before, but he had assumed it was an entire organisation, not one woman. Knowing what Sombra had done in the past, he suddenly had a newfound respect for her abilities to hack anything and anyone single handedly.

Of course it crossed his mind that this woman could simply be a representative for the hacker group, but it felt wrong to think that Talon wouldn’t want direct contact to talk business. Especially one that seemingly had an endless supply of blackmail.

“Aw, is that how you greet a friend?” Sombra wasn’t dignified a response by the doctor, the shorter woman letting out a huff as she rolled her eyes. “A little birdy told me that someone is coming to raid the base.” Seemingly, that made O’Deorain tense up, standing just a little taller.

“Who? Is it Overwatch?” She demanded, turning to face Sombra fully.

The shorter one shrugged, pulling out a phone from her pocket as began to type away. “Dunno, sounds like some new mercenary group.” New mercenary group? What hot-shot group of people thought they could bring down Talon? Even the Shimada’s knew not fuck with these people and had kept declining all invitations as nicely sounding as possible, Genji and Hanzo forced into many business meetings alongside their father and the elders with Akande and his merry band of sadists.

O’Deorain stood there quietly for a moment before turning to one of the nearby scientists. “Cancel todays test with Subject Sigma and get him ready to be moved to district 93, ensure that guards are tripled and constantly on high alert.” At once, Genji watched with amazement as her fellow scientists scattered from the room, pulling up holopads and phones as they moved to set her plans in motion, dozens of different languages popping up as calls and messages ended and restarted.

“What about the dragon boys over there?” The hacker asked, glancing over towards the brothers.

The older woman was silent for a long moment before simply letting out a hum. “I have spent too much time and resources on Subject Sigma for this little parasitic group to capture him, but no one knows the Shimada’s are here, I have little worry of what happens to them regardless.” Her mix-matched eyes met Genji’s, and he couldn’t help the cocky little smirk that danced on his lips.

“Aw, I’m sure you don’t mean that, doc.” He felt Hanzo pinch him sharply just above his elbow, but he waited until O’Deorain broke eye contact first before he turned away.

Once they were left alone, O’Deorain having stormed off with several guards and Sombra vanishing again, Hanzo moved them to lean against the back of the cell. “Genji,” he started, sounding tired, older than he actually was as his eyes took in the bloody form of his brother. “What did you do now?”

“Nothing new,” he lied, not needing to hear a lecture of self-preservation or how he lacked any.

Hanzo looked ready to argue, but remained silent, only nodding. “We need to devise a plan.” Hanzo said, changing subjects though it confused Genji since the older one usually never left an argument so open ended.

“A plan for what? Getting out? It’s cute you think we could even get past the guards on this floor.” He paused for a moment, suddenly letting out a clipped laugh. “And you heard her, no one knows we’re here, no one’s coming for us.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to argue, but Genji pushed on, not wanting to get his hopes up. “Anyways, I thought you’d like to know I was able to speak with the dragon.”

His brother’s eyes went comedically wide, staring at him intently. “You are not joking.” He breathed out, Genji shaking his head.

Hanzo moved, looking stunned as he leaned up against the wall, his mind looking to have been running a hundred kilometres per hour. “What did it say?” He asked, sounding nearly out of breath, both sets of brown eyes meeting.

“She told me I wasn’t ready yet,” Genji paused, “whatever that means.”

“She?”

Genji gave a half-hearted shrug. “She, it, whatever, it had a woman’s voice, I just thought it was fitting.”

Both brothers fell into silence, Hanzo seeming to be stewing in his thoughts while Genji set to task on rubbing off the dried blood, glad that for once it wasn’t his own.

“Could you talk to it again?” Hanzo finally asked, Genji tensing up. “Ask it,” Hanzo paused as he gave a small shake of his head, “ask her to help the group who is coming to raid the base?”

Genji opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to decide if the intense burning pain was worth it or if this was just another fruitless attempt at hoping for a better ending. “Hanzo,” he started with a sigh, running a hand through his slowly greying hair.

His older brother shook his head again before speaking up, Hanzo’s eyes seeming to shine a little brighter. “She is our only hope, Genji, if she can help us, then we can go home.”

He slowly looked back to Hanzo as he heard that word, hoping to any god listening that his brother was right. “We,” he paused, “we can go home?” Hanzo only nodded, Genji almost breathless of the idea.

Genji was suddenly unable to reel in his emotions as he brought Hanzo into a hug, hiding his face away in his chest as he felt himself begin to shake. Home , he thought, suddenly feeling like it was within their grasp.

After about three months or so of being locked up, they had abandoned all hope Sojiro would find them, they had resigned themselves to the thought of never seeing Hanamura again. They both knew how the clan was. If they hadn’t already found them, they never would. O’Deorain would either kill them with her trials or force them to join Talon. Either way, Genji had thought that, upon seeing what kind of men the brothers were, they didn’t deserve a happy ending anyways.

Hanzo hugged him back just as tightly, a soothing hand running over his tattoo. “Soon, ototo, soon.” He cooed, Genji unable to stop the fragile hope that fluttered up into his chest. “You have to convince her.”

Genji pulled back and nodded, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, more determined than he had ever been since being locked up. “Please,” he whispered in Japanese, searching his soul for her again. “I know you said I wasn’t ready, but I can’t ever be if we’re stuck here, please help us go home, whatever the cost.” He heard Hanzo as he drew in a sharp breath but ignored him, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as he sought out the burning.

He must have found what he was looking for as neon green flames suddenly engulfed him, seeing piercing green eyes staring back at him as he began to burn, but he didn’t dare look away.

She stared at him, seemingly looking for something, but he refused to look away, putting on a brave face in hopes of impressing her. He was willing to do just about anything to prove that he needed her help in order for him to ever be ready for what she had in mind.

/Fine,/ she hissed, and suddenly the burning was gone.

He opened his eyes, panting, but able to see what looked like a faint and thin green stream of energy glide around their cell before leaving, Genji unable to feel any spirit energy at all within his body.

He turned to tell Hanzo the good news, or what he hoped was good news, when he saw his brother sitting cross legged, a little awkwardly because of the disabled prosthetic, head bowed and quietly speaking under his breath in Japanese.

Suddenly, Hanzo opened his eyes and they were a bright and brilliant ice blue. Two similar streams but blue pulled from Hanzo’s arm, circling both brothers before vanishing after Genji’s dragon.

A quiet fell over them both, Genji breaking it with a broken but happy laugh. “O-of course you would have t-two dragons!”

Hanzo let out a scoff, but a fond smile pulled at his lips. “Of course,” he agreed, “for I am never second best.” He sounded breathless, but his eyes were soft in a way Genji had never really seen before.

“What did they sound like?” He asked quietly, Hanzo letting out a small hum.

“It was hard to tell, they spoke as one, but I believe one was masculine and the feminine.” The older Shimada gave a small shiver, rubbing a hand over the tattoo. “I felt like I was in the middle of winter, the air was cold and it ached to breathe in.”

Genji’s eyes lit up at that, scooting a little closer. “With my dragon, everything feels like it’s burning.” Both were quiet for a moment before Genji suddenly gave Hanzo a shit-eating grin. “See, I’m fiery and passionate, while you’re a stone-cold bitch.”

Hanzo let out a snort, shoving at Genji. “Excuse me for not choosing a new partner every night.”

“Or at all .” Genji teased, poking at Hanzo’s ribs. “When we get home, I’m introducing you to the world of one-night stands.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, moving to lay on his side, head propped up with one hand. “The elders—”

“I’ll also introduce you to the world of lying to the elders.” Hanzo opened his mouth to argue, but Genji pushed on. “They can suck it, I don’t see them swooping in to save us anytime soon. Serves them right, not coming after the heir and spare.”

Hanzo let out a chuckle at that, Genji thankful he managed to soothe any temper before it flared up beyond control. “I suppose one night of disobedience would be justice enough for them abandoning us.” Hanzo paused, suddenly smirking and holding back a laugh. “Or several nights.” Genji let out a small chuckle, moving to lay down on his back.

He doubted Hanzo would follow through once face-to-face with the elders, he tried too hard to be liked by them and it showed. Genji had watched him look longingly after someone, that person ending up taking an interest as well, but then Hanzo would back out because of the elders. Because he believed them when they said they would choose his ‘betrothed’ and should ‘remain chaste’ until then. That it would make him a better oyabun. No matter what their father said, no matter how many times Sojiro had admitted to his own deviant years before he met their mother or told his sons that tradition is what will eventually kill the clan, nothing could convince Hanzo.

It frustrated Genji, but Hanzo wouldn’t listen to him on personal matters. After everything the elders had put him through, Hanzo still sat and begged for their attention like a dog.

Suddenly, Hanzo reached over, placing a hand on Genji’s forearm. “We will go home, Genji, we are one step closer.” He cast a small smile back at his older brother, forgetting his worries for now as he began to make a checklist of everything he would do when they got home, starting with getting high as fuck.

Chapter Text

Cole walked into the meeting room half an hour before the mission briefing would start. It had taken a couple days to wade through all the intel they got from the flash drive, but they had the facility pinned as an old abandoned building in Russia, one that had been bought for almost nothing a year or so ago. Zarya had confirmed that the district the building was in was near abandoned; it had been the home to one of the larger omnic attacks that she had personally fought in a few years prior, most residents and business owners not wanting to move back in once the dust had settled. The military did routine checks throughout the district now, ensuring it remained abandoned.

He didn’t think it made too much sense to have something so unprotected and out in the open, let alone in a district that the Russian military seemed to patrol often if the woman was telling the truth. They must have been paying off the military to remain undetected, or at the very least knew the routine well enough to avoid being caught. It didn’t remotely feel like Talon’s style, often making grand and bold statements, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

He glanced around the small room to find 76, Hana, and Brigitte already sitting around the table, the two girls chatting away while the old soldier looked mildly put out, arms crossed over his chest and half slouching down in his chair.

Deciding that he’d rather try and wrangle a conversation out of 76 than be pulled into girl talk, he pulled the chair out from beside Soldier: 76 and sat down heavily, leaning back as he put both boots up onto the table, one crossed over the other while the chair rested precariously on two legs. “Y’know why Winston call so many of us for the meetin’?” He asked, glancing over to find the visor looking at him.

“No idea, I don’t get told anything.”

Cole let out a small huff, eyes darting away. “Reckon that makes two of us.”

Seemingly, the old man was fine with just sitting in silence, so Cole let him be, instead pulling out his personal phone and opened up his notes, typing up ideas for what Joel Morricone could blog about next while tuning out talk of recalibrating the MEKA, hoping the next half hour would go by faster.

Eventually the rest of the team wandered in, Angela and Reinhardt sitting beside Cole (and thankfully they wanted to hold a conversation), Fareeha and Satya between 76 and the girls, Mei sitting as far from the cowboy as she could, Zarya sitting beside her and attempted to chat her up as they waited. Lúcio, Lena, and Winston came in last, the young musician moving to sit beside the old crusader, and Winston taking his seat at the head of the table with Lena at his side.

“Thank you all for arriving so quickly, and thank you once again, Cassidy, for getting us this intel.” Always polite, Cole raised his hand up and gave a small tip of his hat, moving to sit up and take his feet off the table, all four legs of the chair finding their place back on the floor.

Winston gave a nod back before clearing his throat, pulling out the same octagonal device he had used before and set it down on the table. “Athena, if you don’t mind.”

At once the little device flashed in recognition before powering up, documents and floor plans popped up around the room as Lena stood, moving to hand out folders to each agent around the table.

Cole knew what was inside, he had helped put the damn things together, but he opened it anyways. His eyes scanned all the familiar information; the name of the building, several lists of shipment orders, Talon guard rotations, Russian military rotations, somewhat more recent photos of the Shimada brothers taken maybe a few days after vanishing. Both men looked rather roughed up with bruised and bloody faces, their short hair looking greasy and clumped up in darker patches that Cole was sure was their own blood.

As unhealthy as it was, Cole had sent a copy to his personal phone, he couldn’t get the older brother’s eyes out of his mind, how angry he looked, snarling like some feral animal up at the photographer. Genji had looked pissed off as well, but there was no hatred in his eyes, not like Hanzo. No, Hanzo looked like, if given the chance, he would have launched himself at the person behind the camera and tore their throat out with his teeth, and knowing where he came from, Cole was sure Hanzo was more than able to do just that.

Cole held back a shiver at the thought of being manhandled by such strong and capable hands, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table a bit to let his serape hide his crotch. Infatuation , he told himself, just like it had been with Gabe before the dynamic of their relationship changed to something more akin to father-son. This, too, would change; some yakuza heir had no time for an outlawed cowboy, let alone interest.

“So, the plan is for two teams to go in, one acting as a distraction while the other gets down to the bottom level where the Shimada’s are being kept.” That’s why there were twelve of them, Cole only wished Lena had let him in on that part when they were putting the files together.

“Zaryanova has ensured we have clearance to go through the building, the Russian government is expecting a full report once we’ve cleared it out, but we will be withholding information about the brothers. Athena?” At Winston’s tone, the AI shuffled all the documents away, making a miniature scale of the property and the building that the brothers were being held in.

Winston stood up then, leaning over to manipulate the field. “Team one will stay outside around here,” he started, using a giant finger to circle around an open area, plenty of cement barricades able to be used for cover as well as some broken down hovercars and chunks of broken buildings. “It’ll be your job to keep Talon’s attention and deal with any reinforcements that should arrive. Team two will be going in and clearing out the building,” he turned and directed their attention to a singular door in the back, “about half way down to the basement, the tanks and one healer will stay behind to guard your exit should team one fail.”

Cole held his tongue, holding back the need to defend the people around him, that whoever was on team one wouldn’t fail. He knew it wasn’t the scientist’s intent to call them weak, Winston didn’t have a way with words, he didn’t think past what he needed to say, couldn’t recognize how what he would say might make someone feel. For that reason alone, Cole knew this wasn’t a fight worth having.

Though he remained silent, 76 did not.

“Do you think team one would be incapable of holding back an attack? Are you implying that whoever’s on team one is weaker than team two?”

A tense silence fell over the room, Winston looking stunned before he nervously looked down at his hands. “N-no, Athena has run the simulations dozens of times, both teams are suited to go into the building—”

Soldier sharply rose to his feet, chair falling back, as he slammed his fist on the table as he regained Winston’s attention. Cole felt a hand go to his stun grenades out of habit, internally cursing when he felt the empty space. He had left his gear in his room like a normal person for once and look where it got him. “This whole plan is stupid, why would we bother rescuing the enemy from another enemy?!”

“It is in our best interest—”

“How is it in our best interest?! Do you even know who they are?! What they’re capable of?!”

“Soldier,” Cole said quietly, moving to stand as he tipped his head up slightly to look down on 76. While he had told Olivia he didn’t care much for the team, he wouldn’t let some outside mercenary bully his way around without a fight.

“That’s enough!” Angela suddenly barked out, rising to her feet as well. “He said no such things, he only said it was a fallback plan.

“Besides, it’s not your place to dictate our missions, we are a new version of Overwatch and we certainly don’t have time for outliers wishing to go against the grain.” Her cold eyes stayed on 76, an open invitation to argue further.

The tension between them somehow felt… familiar? But Cole couldn’t put his finger on it as he sat back down. He had only seen the good doctor get this mad a handful of times, never something to write home about though. Usually, it was toward Gabe when their team got back from a particularly rough mission that almost left Moira useless to help, sometimes Morrison would gain her ire for him compromising himself on the battlefield for someone, Cole had seen both men get chewed out for fighting with each other when Lena’s chronal accelerator was destroyed by Doomfist as both tried to take the blame.

Almost begrudgingly, 76 slowly moved and grabbed his chair. He sat back down, staring at the medic with what Cole assumed was a glare behind the visor as she gave a little pleased look and sat down herself.

Angela turned back to Winston, dipping her head slightly. “As you were saying, Winston.”

The scientist looked mildly taken aback, but was quick to nod, shuffling his papers around. “Y-yes, of course.” He paused, looking to Angela. “Thank you.” He said quickly and quietly, Soldier letting out a huff as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Team one, the decoy team, will be comprised of two tanks, three damage, and one healer. Pharah will be the leader of team one,” Cole nodded along with the others, quickly figuring out that Winston was giving out the orders with code names. Usually, back in their golden days, Gabe or Morrison would use their actual names, then on the mission switch over, but Winston was new to this, so he was once again given a pass.

Maybe, when they got back, he’d give the scientist some pointers. Cole was groomed to take over for Gabe once he retired after all.

“Symmetra, Rhythm, Siberian, Antarctica, and myself will be joining.” Winston finished, giving a small nod to first Satya, then Lúcio, Zarya, and Mei.

Hana gave a small smirk as she leaned in. “What’s your code name?”

Nervously, Winston fiddled with his glasses, pushing them back into place. “28.”

The gamer held back a laugh as she leaned back in her chair. “76, 28, who else’s callsign is a number?” She teased, Cole sending her a smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“They used t’call me ‘66’ back in the day,” he teased, Hana giving a small grin.

“Do you wish to use that instead?” Winston asked all serious like, Cole leaning back in his chair as he waved him off.

“Nah, ‘Deadeye’ sounds better, less syllables.” There was also the fact Deadlock gave him that callsign, but it wasn’t the time to talk about old friends.

Winston gave a nod before moving on. “Team two, the extraction team, will be led by Soldier: 76.” The old man seemed to perk up at that, uncrossing his arms as he leaned forward on the table. “Tracer, Mercy, D.Va, Crusader, and Squire will accompany him.” Lena smiled up at Winston as her name was called, Angela gave a clipped nod, Hana gave a fist pump, Reinhardt clapped his hands together, and Brigitte gave a wide grin.

After quickly counting in his head, Cole jolted forward, eyes narrowing slightly as his good mood was instantly soured. “I’m mighty sorry, but it seems ya forgot to put me on a team.” He kept his voice even, but he had a sinking suspicion that his exclusion from one of the teams was intentional.

At once, Winston looked over to Lena, the Brit giving a nod before looking back to Cole. “Angela says you’re still off duty ‘cause of the blisters, plus we need someone on comms—”

“ Blisters?! ” Cole roared, standing up and turning to glare at Angela. “I’m still benched ‘cause of some damn blisters ?!” At this point, they had mostly cleared up, he still had a rather large one of his left heel, but it wasn’t worth crying over.

Angela kept her face even, looking up at Cole with cool blue eyes. “Yes, who knows what bacteria could get in and fester, it would be best you remain on base until you are completely healed.”

Cole scowled at her, slamming his metal fist into the table hard enough to feel the metal table dent. “Right, but when Gabe and I got back from Rome after the base got bombed, we were back on the roster wit’ Gabe havin’ a head wound an’ my arms cut up to all hell!”

Beside him, 76 tensed up, but he ignored the old soldier as he watched Angela’s eyes turn into daggers as she stood. “Do not bring him up, you know it’s a banned topic.”

“Who gives a flyin’ fuck ?! I’ve been set out on missions with broken bones and sprained ankles, but some damn pocket of fluid is too much for y’all?!” Cole let out a huff, storming his way over to the door as his temper bubbled over for the first time since that night in Rialto with Gabe. “Have fun on yer mission, folks, just remember who got ya that info.”

He slammed the door behind himself, stomping his way down the hall like a child as he gritted his teeth together. After everything he had done for them, he was still benched unfairly. He couldn’t even wrap his head around why . Had he broken something, or was horribly burned, or something more extreme, he would have agreed and brewed silently. But this, this was beyond unfair. Angela was punishing him for something, he just needed to figure out what.

His steps faltered for a moment, why was he so angry about this? Wasn’t he used to being let down and brushed aside at this point? Why did he care if he was on the mission or not? His conversation with Olivia came back, echoing around in his head, talks about trust or lack thereof.

He sighed internally.

Yeah, that was it, wasn’t it? How can he prove himself trustworthy when he’s stuck on base? No one here trusted him, he doubted anyone would let him help around their own stations unless absolutely necessary. Mostly everyone still saw him as the villain, someone who would be willing to bring Overwatch down again, someone born to only destroy and never to help.

It all came back to Angela and being benched. He couldn’t do shit while stuck on Gibraltar. God, he wished he could just go back to working alone, at least he only had to listen to the voice in his own head rather than everyone else.

Finally stopping and letting out a heavy sigh, he glanced around to find his steps had led him to what he assumed was one of the unused dorm wings that Lena mentioned they were planning to renovate, a room with worn looking ‘24’ on the door set in front of him. A flood of memories came back all at once as his previous grievances fled, Cole letting out a sharp gasp as if the sight had burned him, taking several steps back until he hit the wall.

Back in the Dallas and the Swiss base, room 24 had been—

Hesitantly, Cole toed back forward, reaching out his hand and typed in his old Blackwatch code, less from remembering the numbers and more along the lines of muscle memory, watching as the digital number pad changed to the Blackwatch symbol and displayed a message.

Welcome home, Agent Cassidy .

He stood stock still out in the hall as he watched the door slide open, daring to peek in and saw the lights flicker from disuse a handful of times before lighting up properly.

Taking a steadying breath, he stepped through the threshold, glancing around at the stale smelling room. It was clean besides the obvious layer of dust, the sheets the dark red and black of Blackwatch, a few medals and pictures hung up on the wall, but the room was otherwise empty, barely lived in. That made sense, seeing as they hardly visited the Gibraltar base longer than a few hours, a day or two at most. Cole was never brought along for those trips, something about favouritism and ‘if he was brought, everyone else got to come along’.

Cautiously, he walked over to the frame on the nightstand, holding in a whimper when he saw a picture of a much more scrawny and younger Cole in a headlock with Gabe, a huge ass grin on his commander’s face with Cole’s old black hat on his head. Jack sat in the background, a fond smile tugging on his lips as he sipped at his coffee, and Ana’s smiling face was reflected in the large television behind the men as she took the photo.

He remembered that moment, it was the morning of the day Cole received his first medal. It had come as a shock to himself, knowing where Gabe had pulled him out of, but Jack and Ana told him they had no doubts. It has been a long time coming , Ana had said, the first of many , Jack proudly proclaimed, you’re gonna show the world that Cole Cassidy is more than what’s written on the tin, kid , Gabe praised, he had never looked more proud of the cowboy until that moment.

Cole bit his bottom lip sharply as he tipped his head up, holding the frame to his chest as he felt his eyes begin to water.

He had no idea Ana had sent the picture or that Gabe had apparently kept it, he hadn’t even recalled that memory in his years on the run. Cole refused to remember times of comfort, he never wanted to associate his time with a bounty on his head with something that felt so much more pure, much more worthy of someone else’s mind than his own.

Once he managed to somewhat sort out his breathing and stop the wretched tears from falling, he kept the frame to his chest with his flesh arm, moving over to the pictures along the wall. His metal fingers gently brushed along Gabe’s face in each one, finding himself in more pictures than not. “Maybe ya did have a favourite,” he said to himself quietly, letting out a sad little chuckle.

He knew he was Gabriel’s favourite, everyone knew. The soldier never let it show, he always made Cole do the same as everyone else, never cutting him slack, never letting him cut corners. But it was obvious, Gabe never spent his downtime with anyone below his rank, didn’t give his men the time of day unless they earned it, didn’t mentor anyone who just stumbled in.

Cole was the only exception.

“We couldn’t figure out how to get into this room.” Cole was startled from his thoughts as he spun around, finding Angela standing in the doorway, looking much older and more tired than Cole had ever seen with her arms crossed over her chest.

The anger he felt before tried to bubble up, but seeing her like this, so far out of her element, it made him give pause to listen. “We wanted to clean out the room and give it to you, but even with his number wiped from the system, this door was still registered to another living person so we couldn’t, unless we wanted to notify the UN.” She paused, smiling softly. “I should’ve known it was yours.”

Cole glanced back to the picture he had been looking at, feeling his heart begin to ache. “I miss him so much, Angie.” At once, gentle arms were wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Sometimes I wish I stayed just a lil’ longer.”

“Mein gott, Cole, don’t say such things. I’m sure Gabriel would be proud of you and the man you’ve become.” He suddenly turned and hid his face away in her neck, metal arm wrapped around her tightly while his other arm hugged the picture to his chest. “Oh, Cole,” she cooed, gently removing his hat and setting it on the lamp nearby, running her fingers through his hair soothingly as her neck grew wet with his tears. “I’m keeping you off missions because I worry about you, I was forced by those above Gabriel and Jack to discharge everyone before they should be, I don’t ever want someone going out while in pain again, not if I can help it.”

Everything clicked for Cole, sniffling back tears as he realised she only had his best interest in mind, that she didn’t want him in further pain, self inflicted or not. “I’m mighty sorry for yellin’, Angie.”

“Don’t be, I shouldn’t have kept my intentions concerning you a secret.” She pulled back suddenly, Cole raising his head as she gently brushed her thumb along his cheek. “If you’d still like to be on the mission, we’d much rather have you on comms than Torbjörn.” Cole barked out a watery laugh, moving his metal hand to cover his mouth.

“Don’t ya like him not able t’keep up with what’s happenin’ and cursin’ most of the time?”

Angela rolled her eyes, taking a step back. “Don’t remind me, there’s a reason Sojourn got a promotion as fast as she did.” They shared a soft laugh together, the medic’s eyes softening. “Do you need more time? I can give Winston your answer.”

Cole nodded, glancing around the room before looking back at Angela. “Please.” She nodded back to him, turning and vanishing out the door and down the hallway.

Quietly, Cole made his way to Gabe’s bed, softly sitting down and rested his elbows on his thighs, holding the picture in front of him. “I really do hope you’d be proud of me.” He mumbled, letting out a heavy sigh as he brought the frame back to his chest and closed his eyes tightly, blind to the figure standing just outside the doorway, masked face watching him with anguish filled eyes and a heart full of regret.

Chapter Text

“ A’ight, boys, Talon comms are down, they’re more blind than bats .” 76 nodded to Deadeye—Cassidy—in his ear, gesturing for Crusader—Reinhardt—and D.Va to come forward.

“Planting charges!” Crusader informed the cowboy, Deadeye letting out a hum.

“ 15 seconds, clear the blast zone .”

Soldier gave another nod while the others gave some sort of vocal response, but he knew Deadeye could see through a cam the old soldier had on his visor. Hana had been able to display a stream, real time, to Cassidy up in the communication room with only a second or so of delay.

They waited quietly, Crusader bringing up his shield as Mercy set her staff to a damage boost, connecting the beam to 76 as he got ready to shoot at any Talon scum that showed up.

“How’s team one doing?” Squire—Brigitte—asked quietly.

76 heard the telltale sound of a squeaky chair as Deadeye presumably sat up. “ Don’t ya worry ‘bout them, pumpkin ,” Deadeye paused as the charges went off in front of them, “ Pharah’s their eyes in the sky, ain’t no one gonna sneak up on ‘em .”

That seemed to soothe the team, specifically Brigitte, and Jack was suddenly glad it was Cole up in the communication room. The cowboy was, usually, laid back and easy going; he had seen the young man talk his way out of lethal situations before, kept a level head even when he was beaten beyond recognition, used his silver tongue while bleeding out.

To see Cassidy lose his temper at the meeting had been a shock, and while he had no idea what changed the cowboy’s mind to help, he was relieved he and the good doctor had been able to talk it out. The underlings Winston had recalled didn’t trust Cassidy, and if they caught wind of the cowboy fighting with the Angela Ziegler, Jack was sure there would be more problems for their own plans than Gabriel slipping up. Cole was essential, the people needed to trust him again. Everything needed to go according to plan.

“Any movement, Deadeye?” He asked, keeping his gun trained on the gaping hole in the wall.

“ Negative, feel free to waltz right in, folks. ” He rolled his eyes behind his visor at how unprofessional he always sounded, he should have done something about that back then, but he moved forward as he pushed the thought away, signalling for his team to follow.

Squire took point beside him, D.Va on his other side while Crusader watched their backs, Tracer and Mercy staying in the middle for now as they made their way deeper into the belly of the beast.

He almost, almost , wished that Rhythm—Lúcio—would have been part of their squad instead, having heard the young man had a small healing radius plus a much needed speed boost that could get the tanks out quicker, but Reinhardt insisted that Brigitte could hold her own. So 76 decided, against his better judgement, to silently give her the benefit of the doubt.

Of course, as always, he wasn’t happy about it, but he was ignored in favour of letting the new kid show her stuff. He wasn’t the commander anymore, it was Winston’s call at the end of the day and that frustrated him to no end. He might have teased Gabe about being under Winston’s command once or twice back in the day, but now he knew how his partner felt considering they both outranked the scientist several times over.

“ This is where y’all get to say your goodbyes .” Came Deadeye’s voice, pulling 76 from his thoughts.

“Half way already?” Tracer asked, Deadeye letting out a hum of confirmation.

Crusader gave a half bow, moving to set a sturdy hand on Squire’s shoulder as he stood beside her. “Safe travels in the lower levels, friends! If you need help, D.Va will come down, ja?”

76 gave a nod, turning and gesturing for Mercy and Tracer to follow as the tanks and singular healer turned and got behind Crusader’s shield, ready for a fight. Deadeye took that moment to switch 76, Mercy, and Tracer to their own channel as he had done when team one and two had split off, it kept the confusion down to a minimum. Unless, of course, it was Torbjörn running the comms, then everyone would be moved into the wrong channel, or end up muted, or no one would move channels at all. And all the while Torb would complain about how things were done ‘back in his day’, as if the illegal Overwatch wasn’t using most of the same methods as the legal Overwatch had.

How an engineer could hate and scorn technological progression so much but was still able to do his job to near perfection was an amazement to Jack.

The soldier, pilot, and medic continued on in silence, 76 neutralising any Talon agents they came across, though that was far and few between. It looked like someone had gotten there before them, or at least some sort of insubordination. Throats looked like they had bites taken out of them, long gashes that somehow cut through the thick Talon armour unlike anything he had ever seen before. It took a high calibre shot to pierce their armour, most standard pistols unable to do more than ricochet off. They had painstakingly modded their guns and grenades, ensuring damage could be done to Talon soldiers should they come across them.

It made him shiver and want to ask Cassidy who else had Sombra as a contact.

He felt his lips turn down into a frown at the thought. He recognized the sugar skull anywhere, he knew the cowboy had gone to Sombra, he and Gabe just weren’t sure how he got absolutely everything from them so fast and for free. Gabe usually had to shell out hundreds of thousands of dollars to just get a hint , but here in walks Cassidy, getting everything the minute he asks, down to the tiniest details like birthdays and anniversaries, for free .

Apparently, there had been no data Sombra could give him pertaining as to why Talon sought out the Shimada’s, seeing as there seemed to be no motivation other than experimentation of something that Sombra had no info on.

It made him mildly curious as to why they took Sojiro’s sons to experiment on in the first place, why not instead use them as a bargaining chip? He was sure their father would have done something to get them back; one of them was, without a shadow of a doubt, the heir to the Shimada clan. The contract Winston had found was good, but they could get so much more if they played their cards right, use the boys properly unlike Talon.

Ha , as if Winston had the spine to do that .

76 raised his hand as they came to a corridor with a large and heavy looking metal door sitting ajar. “ Tracer, put yer little cam in the door. ” The young woman moved forward, tugging off the small camera from her jacket and carefully pushed it in, Deadeye letting out a hum. “ Looks clear, keep yer eyes sharp .”

Slowly, 76 pushed the door open more, peeking around to see a room that resembled more of a hallway with cells lining both sides. The way it looked briefly reminded him of a jail from an old western Cole forced him and Gabe to watch once, but on a much larger, industrial, and disgusting looking scale.

He quietly walked over to one of the cells, pulse rifle at the ready as he peeked in. He felt he should have been more shocked than he was, finding a dead body decaying in the corner, but he had seen worse before, had been the cause in some cases. “I hope they weren’t one of the targets.” He mumbled, withdrawing himself as Mercy and Tracer peered in.

They quickly pulled back as well, Mercy screwing up her face while Tracer sharply turned and covered her mouth with her hand. “Let’s hope they’re alive, the last thing we need is Sojiro thinking we did something to them.” The medic mumbled, 76 nodding in agreement as he continued down the rows of cells, Deadeye staying quiet.

The other cells held similar sights, some were empty, some had dead bodies, one was filled with dead bodies. Very few had living people, but none gave the correct names.

For a sharp and brief moment, 76 felt guilty they weren’t saving everyone, and he could hear it in Deadeye’s voice as well when he begrudgingly told them to move on, but they didn’t have the funds or resources to take care of anyone more than themselves. It was already strenuous with how many they had back in Gibraltar, never mind feeding a dozen more, plus they couldn’t afford to blow their cover.

At least that’s what he told himself, completely ignoring the fact they had unused wings that could easily fit fifty bodies, if not more. Besides, someone else would eventually come for them.

The term ‘bystander effect’ rattled around his head before quickly pushing that thought away. The Russian government would take care of them once they gave their report, at least he hoped so.

76 had all but given up as they came down to the final three cells, the first of them empty but covered in blood. He felt bad for the sorry fool who lost that much. The second held two bodies, collapsed against one another and scrawny looking. They didn’t move, 76 figuring they were dead, like most everyone else they found. But as he moved to check the last cell, a whimper came from one of the two scrawny bodies.

He sharply turned and looked back in, finding two sets of dark brown eyes staring up at him. One of the bodies stood up on shaky legs, his ratty hospital gown barely covering anything as he stumbled towards where 76 stood. Long black hair with the tips looking to have been bleached hung down around his head, one hand moving to brush the hair from his patchily bearded face as he came closer.

Before 76 could take in any more of the man’s appearance, weak fingers grabbed at his jacket’s sleeve and pulled him closer. “P-please help my brother, h-he needs a doctor.” The man’s voice was barely above a whisper, voice scratchy with lack of use and held a faint accent.

“ That looks like one of ‘em, but y’know the drill .”

76 glanced back to his companions for a moment before looking back, trying to keep his voice neutral. “What are your names?”

The man had a look of disbelief, but it quickly vanished as he leaned in closer ever so slightly. “Shimada Genji,” the man gestured to himself, “and Shimada Hanzo.” He flung an arm half heartedly towards the man still crouched on the ground in the back, Soldier able to see an intricate blue tattoo on his left arm that confirmed his answer. “Now please, help my brother, he said it hurts to breathe.” In an instant, Mercy came forward as 76 crouched down and worked on the lock, Tracer hanging back to keep watch.

“I’m a doctor,” Mercy started as she waited to get in, “I can help, but I need to know when and where the pain started.”

Genji nodded, turning to Hanzo as they spoke in a foreign language, Hanzo’s voice sounding rough and out of breath. Did the other Shimada not know English? Wouldn’t Sojiro give both an advantage in the western world? It set off warning bells in his mind, but Mercy probably wouldn’t have let him act on it and Deadeye wasn’t saying anything otherwise, so he kept silent. He was already silently cursing himself that he never learned Japanese when Lacroix said he was learning it, the French man ended up being the delegate that would be sent to illegally negotiate with the big man, Sojiro Shimada himself, back in the day.

Overwatch and Blackwatch hadn’t been allowed into Japan before that (technically they hadn’t been allowed for that mission either), so unless the agents they worked with happened to speak the language, they really had no reason to learn it. Overly shortsighted on their behalf, as if they would never need to know Japanese at some point in the legal Overwatch’s lifetime. But as far as they knew back then, Overwatch would have stayed around forever and they still wouldn’t have been allowed into Japan.

“He says it started a day ago, after they tried to,” Genji paused, speaking to Hanzo again before continuing. “They tried to, well, he says they tried to push down his chest.” Genji pursed his lips slightly, looking confused. “We’re both halfway delirious, I don’t think either of us are translating that right.” Mercy looked just as lost as 76 felt and Genji sounded, but she nodded and finally marched past 76 as he pushed the door open.

She dropped down to her knees beside Hanzo, holding out her healing staff as the golden beam attached to his chest. 76 was quick to block the door when she entered, knowing he’d lose his head if he let one of these two escape, even if he felt this was still a very bad idea.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Genji sitting by his brother and the doctor as he remained the translator, Mercy doing a basic checkup, 76 and Tracer standing side by side as they watched for Talon agents and scientists, Deadeye complaining in their ears that even Athena didn’t have a Japanese language pack installed so he couldn’t understand the brothers.

Older version , 76 briefly thought, the Athena they used before the explosion having almost every language under the sun, even a few dead ones. Winston had dug up this older version to be able to run without the United Nations being notified of their AI being woken up while the scientist worked to tweak Athena to what they needed. Apparently, that was an AI who was well versed in sass and backtalk.

It brought 76 back to when Gérard was given his mission as a ‘delegate’, Athena’s language pack was updated and the UN was notified, Jack having to lie by saying they had too many Japanese speaking agents to warrant not having it. It worked, but barely.

Jack could still hear the bratty tone in Genji’s voice through their comms, the eight year old asking Gérard all sorts of probing questions while the elder sibling would hardly even look at the Blackwatch agent despite being seven years apart and not someone from the Shimada family. They thought the oldest would’ve spilled something to Gérard, but the child was tightlipped and thought being a Shimada meant they were above everyone, and with how the Shimada staff treated both children, they may as well have been.

76 didn’t like the fact that they were still here, couldn’t Mercy heal Hanzo on the way out? It was too quiet and no guards had come and made their rounds. He was sure they wouldn’t send everyone to the front to deal with the tanks, leaving their prisoners unguarded.

Something was horribly wrong and 76 wanted out now .

Before he could voice his concerns, Mercy and Genji were rising to their feet, Hanzo slowly following as the two helped him up on shaky metal legs. Mercy quickly slung her arm around Hanzo’s waist as she manoeuvred his arm around her neck, her free hand holding her staff and still healing the Shimada in her arms.

“Let’s get out of here. Deadeye, tell the others to come meet us halfway.” The cowboy hummed, the line going silent as he muted, Mercy looking to Tracer. “Tell Iconclad he needs to meet us at the rondevu in half an hour.” Tracer quickly nodded, moving to send the message off to Torbjörn.

Once the message was sent, 76 and Tracer led the way down the hall. Everything had gone quiet, he couldn’t hear gunshots or battle cries anymore, he hadn’t for a while. That couldn’t have been good, but they got the targets, they were almost home free.

Behind him, he could hear Hanzo mumble something in Japanese, Genji translating to the doctor before relaying her words back to the injured Shimada.

“Where will you be taking us?” Genji asked, 76 acutely listening for Mercy’s response, but the shorter Shimada carried on. “Gods, I just want to go home and sleep in my bed, cut and dye my hair, and never leave the house again.”

Mercy was quiet for a moment, 76 wondering if she was trying to figure out what to say. They already had a cover story if the brothers asked; they were being hunted down and the new and totally not illegal Overwatch would keep them safe while they contacted Sojiro.

76 had wanted to ask Winston if he knew how stupid that sounded, but Angela had sharply pressed the heel of her combat boot into his toes and had him gritting his teeth, remaining silent as the two teams had turned and entered the dropship.

“At this time, it’s not safe for you to return home due to Talon’s occupation in Japan, we’ve been in contact with your father and he’s agreed for you two to stay with us until further notice.”

The youngest Shimada suddenly let out a huff, 76 glancing over his shoulder in time to see Genji crossing his arms over his chest as he came to a stop. “We were afraid you’d say that.”

All at once, Hanzo grabbed the medic by the arm around his waist as she was spun and pulled awkwardly behind him, moving her arm up to his shoulder and threw her over him to the ground, standing tall, though a touch shaky, as Genji moved to grab the pistol at her hip.

76 turned on a dime, raising his gun but hesitated for a split second as Hanzo suddenly turned and bolted for Tracer, tackling her to the ground and swept up both of her pistols. 76 shot a few times in Hanzo’s direction, but they were surprisingly dodged with ease, despite the limp, as the two brothers came to stand beside one another.

Hanzo had one of Tracer’s pistols aimed at the pilot, the other to 76. Beside him, Genji aimed Mercy’s gun at the medic who was scrambling to stand, ultimately remaining on her knees once she saw her own pistol aimed at her head.

“Drop your weapon.” Hanzo barked out, glaring at 76 with cold brown eyes.

So the fucker could speak English.

Looking to his companions and their compromised situation, he decided it best to do what the brothers wanted for now. Tracer had too much to live for to die here, Mercy was needed back at Gibraltar, and Gabe would bring him back to life just to kill him again for how stupid he was.

“ I leave y’all for 3 seconds ,” Deadeye chastised, letting out a small snort as 76 burned with mild hatred, suddenly unwilling to stand down without a fight. “ Do as he says, we need ‘em alive. I’m addin’ D.Va to the channel and sendin’ her down .”

“ D.Va online! ” Came the young girl’s cheery voice within a heartbeat of Deadeye speaking, unintentionally mocking as she was pulled into the comm channel. They didn’t need the help of a child, they could manage just fine. 76 had the pistol on his belt, he could use that and his tactical visor to wound the boys enough to subdue them.

“ Soldier, put the goddamn gun down, no need for heroics .” Deadeye hissed in his ear, almost as if the angel and devil on his shoulders was the fucking cowboy himself.

76 slowly lowered his gun, feeling shame and disgust hit him all at once as he dropped his rifle to the ground and raised his hands in surrender.

Genji let out a little laugh, coming forward to grab the gun. 76 fully intended to grab a hold of the shorter one once he bent down to grab the rifle, Deadeye’s warning be damned, but of course the Shimada was more intelligent than that. He grabbed Mercy’s discarded staff, gun still trained on her as he used the staff to pull the pulse rifle away from the former commander.

“We should’ve killed you two.” 76 hissed out, feeling the glare Mercy was giving him without having to look and hearing Deadeye’s sigh of exasperation.

A small chuckle came from Genji as he tossed the medic’s gun into the cell behind him, 76 half relieved it was empty, before holding the rifle properly.

76 hadn’t been able to tell due to the SEP program, but he had been told his gun was quite heavy, and to see such a scrawny kid pick it up as if it weighed no more than a shirt made a shiver crawl up his spine.

If 76 didn’t know better, if he hadn’t heard from Gérard the rigorous training the Shimada’s did, he might have thought the boy was a trained soldier, hopped up on his own cocktail of steroids from a similar SEP program. “Father will already be mad at Talon, no point adding your little gang to that list.”

Hanzo let out an amused hum beside Genji, cold eyes still not moving from 76. “Perhaps we should hold them until Father says otherwise.” Genji smirked, glancing to his brother as the smug grin grew in size.

“Anija, you don’t speak English, remember?” Hanzo rolled his eyes at that, finally breaking the tense staring contest with 76 to send a glare to his brother.

“You are childish.” Hanzo chided, 76 getting a sinking feeling they weren’t going to make it out of this unharmed. “Let us dispose of these three and—”

Suddenly, Hanzo let out a wince, bringing a hand up to the back of his shoulder. Genji cast a concerned look before he let out a similar whine, reaching to pull a dart from the back of his neck while the other Shimada pulled a dart from his shoulder. “What the fuck is—” Genji started before both brothers suddenly collapsed to their knees, Genji hitting the floor face down as Hanzo collapsed to his side.

All three agents sat in silence for a moment, even Deadeye had gone quiet, before two figures walked towards them from outside the door the team had entered, 76 almost relieved to see Shrike standing there with a dark skinned man. She always seemed to get him and Gabe out of pinches when they went bounty hunting in Europe, he wasn’t surprised to find her here either.

Ana always liked dropping by unannounced.

Both Shrike and the stranger took a few more steps closer before Tracer reached for one of her pistols, 76 quick to grab the Brit’s wrist. “Stand down, Shrike’s a friend.” He turned, knowing full well Shrike would be smirking under her own mask. “And a friend of Shrike,” he glanced to the man, “is a friend of mine.”

“You’re too smart to trust a random man.”

“That’s true, but it’s not you I trust.”

The man gave a small grin, letting his large gun rest against his shoulder. “I’m Baptiste, you must be the legendary Soldier: 76 I keep hearing about.” Baptiste turned his attention to Mercy as she stood, brushing herself off. “Ah, I recognize you, Doctor Ziegler.” She looked over to him, almost looking confused. “We met in Venezuela on an aid site.”

She seemed to perk up suddenly, a small smile on her face. “Yes, I remember you now, but please, call me Angela.” Baptiste came forward and the two shook hands, the man moving to stand beside Shrike again.

“Thanks for the help,” 76 glanced at the Shimada brothers, “but we can manage from here.” Shrike simply nodded, slinging her rifle over her shoulder as Baptiste pulled out a small device from a side pouch on his belt.

“Hold up, you could all use a little healing.” Mercy opened her mouth, most likely to argue that she could handle it just fine, but Baptist hit the little button on the device and at once, 76 could feel a burst of energy as a little field of a gold-like mist dispersed from the device, able to breathe just a little deeper and think more clearly without the constant nagging of pain.

“ Well would ya look at that, back up to full .” Deadeye commented, Mercy letting out a near silent huff.

“Take care, mes amies!” Baptiste called, he and Shrike turning and heading off deeper into the facility for whatever reason. Maybe this was a sign she would answer the recall, maybe she would join their side soon. Maybe she’d even bring this Baptiste fellow, he seemed nice enough, and god knows they could never have too many healers.

“Thank you!” Tracer quickly called, bringing 76 back to the present as she and Mercy moved to gather their weapons, 76 catching Tracer sticking out her tongue at the Shimada’s and Mercy giving a sad look to her gun stuck on the inside of a cell.

“ I got Crusader and Squire on the way down, team one’s defendin’ the door now. ” Deadeye informed, 76 hearing the chair squeak as two thumps signalled the cowboy had leaned back and put his feet up. “ Ironclad’s ready to land when y’all are good t’go .”

Today has been long and frustrating, but at least the targets were secured and no one was hurt. Jack smiled slightly, glancing down the hall to where Ana had vanished, pleased as punch she was there to save his ass again and again. He couldn’t wait to tell Gabe, perhaps they could sneak out and go see her once things settled down with the brothers, lord knows they both need time away from their fractured family.

Chapter Text

By the time Hanzo came to, he knew he was far from where Talon had been keeping them, and that was perfectly fine with him. He only wished he was on a flight back to Hanamura and not wherever his new personal hell was.

He let out a small groan as he felt his stomach roll, trying to recall if it was a starvation pain or whatever-had-been-shot-into-his-shoulder pain. Without much care or thought, half expecting to be fastened down by some extent, he sat up and was surprised to find himself lying in a bed with his arms and legs unbound. This didn’t seem right. Was he not a prisoner?

Looking around the obnoxiously bright room yielded very little, only finding a narrow but tall window to see outside, a small square table with two chairs, a pair of black sweatpants and a long sleeved white shirt on one of the chairs, a nightstand with a wireless alarm clock and hair tie, and a horrendously large mirror on the wall beside the door.

Hanzo rose to his feet, surprised further to feel the heated floor through the sensors on his functioning prosthetic, but brushed it aside as he stood and wandered over to the mirror. He moved to stand beside the door, tipping his head slightly to find the glass set in the wall rather than resting on top. That certainly explained why they were trying to blind him.

A one-way mirror.

He was still a prisoner after all.

With sluggish movements, he half-heartedly tried the door only to find it locked from the outside. It made perfect sense to lock the door, especially with Hanzo’s background, but he still felt mildly slighted for being unable to just walk out. Couldn’t something go his way for once this year?

While still feeling the effects of the sleep dart, he headed back to the nightstand to swipe up the hair tie, moving over to grab the new clothing before making his way over to the window and peered outside. He was pleased to see a small courtyard with what looked like three fruit bearing trees in full bloom, green leaves harbouring apples and oranges. It brought a sense of calm, something new to look at that wasn’t walls or bars.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the month or season due to being locked up in Talon’s little secret laboratory, but held in a sigh when he could hear the faint sound of buzzing once he was close enough to the window. He tapped a knuckle against the glass and briefly saw the image flicker before returning to the same looping image. Despite having better living conditions, he was still in a cage. At least this one looked and smelled better.

Taking a quick glance behind himself to ensure there was no one in the room with him, he slid the hair tie around his wrist and set the shirt on the bed, quick to pull the sweatpants up his legs. He swiftly pulled off the ratty hospital gown after that, balling it up and tossing it into the garbage bin beside the bed, slipping on the long sleeved shirt.

He dared a peek at the mirror, tipping his chin up ever so slightly as he briefly looked himself over. This was much more preferable compared to the hospital gown, making him feel more human for the first time in months.

“Ah, Mr. Shimada! I’m glad to see you awake!” Hanzo fully turned, about to chastise the woman for using the wrong honorifics, when he recognized her as the medic who had come to rescue himself and Genji.

He watched her with cold eyes as she brought in a tray of food, steam rising up and filled the room with a delicious scent that almost had his mouth watering as she set it down on the table in front of the chair closest to him. When was the last time he ate something that wasn’t mush from a bag or decade old rations?

The medic gestured to the table as she sat down in the further chair, back facing the door as she pulled up a tablet.

Hanzo hesitated, using the short moment to quickly tie his hair up into a messy bun and smooth out his shirt, before slowly walking over. This didn’t feel right. This felt like a trap. He wasn’t sure how acting kind to him was part of it, but until he could figure out where he was and what was going to happen, he wouldn’t give in to their kind gestures.

“So, Mr. Shimada—”

“You will refer to myself as Shimada-sama.”

The doctor looked mildly surprised but she nodded, typing on her tablet for a moment before returning her gaze to him. “Of course, Shimada-sama, my apologies.” He waved her off, feeling more comfortable as he felt himself slipping back into the whole ‘heir to a yakuza’ persona, something he had abandoned ages ago thanks to Talon. “I just have some questions to ask you and then we can move on to negotiations.”

Not a trap then, a deal. One that would most likely be unfavourable for his future empire and beneficial to this little gang. What he wouldn’t give for Yuki to be here to micromanage this deal; it wasn’t worth his time or effort. She would take notes, go over them with Sojiro and Hanzo, and then relay their answer without either men attending the meeting. Anything that wasn’t with a direct business partner was a waste of time; this medic wasn’t this gang’s leader so he had no interest in speaking with her.

“I wish to speak with my brother.” He interjected before the questioning could start. He was still baffled that the three agents hadn’t spoken any Japanese, both he and Genji saying random phrases back and forth for the most part, and he was inclined to repeat their almost successful attempt with some updated modifications.

Perhaps they could somehow convince the dragons once again to help them, though the twins had almost zero presence since they returned to him with bloody maws and red claws. Even now, he couldn’t feel their energy stir within, though he wasn’t sure if he was glad or upset they were gone for the time being.

The medic shook her head, an almost motherly affectionate look overcoming her already soft features. “I’m afraid you two will stay in social isolation from each other until our leader says otherwise, Shimada-sama.” When Hanzo came back with his men to wipe out this pathetic gang, the doctor would be the first to go for denying him.

He let out a snort but gave a small wave of his hand, not having much of a choice but to let her ask the questions she so desperately needed answers to. “First and foremost, I would like to perform several examinations to make sure you’re in top condition,” she pulled a hologram from her tablet and sent the screen across the table, coming to rest beside the tray of untouched food. “This is a form I need you to fill out, and then at the bottom I’ll need a signature to allow myself or a male doctor to perform the exams.”

Hanzo stared at her dumbfounded, how did she not know? Genji always said he passed, especially the past decade and a half, but the doctor must have seen his lack of equipment. It wasn’t like the excuse of a hospital gown or the nearly shredded underwear hid much from prying eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

The medic looked slightly embarrassed, but it passed fast enough as she sat up a little straighter. “Due to privacy laws and moral standards, we’ve refrained from any medical examinations until you and your brother awoke to give consent. And, quite frankly, I would like to examine you both to see what Talon had been conducting in their facility.” The way she phrased it made Hanzo’s stomach twist uneasily, wondering if this would be a simple questioning like he initially thought.

Hanzo was suddenly glad he had been taught to appear aloof, because his mind was currently spiralling out of control and made him aware of the fact that these people didn’t know anything about the Shimada’s.

At that moment, he was inclined to just lie and fill in the form, request the male doctor, and hope to hell they would cover for him, but Hanzo knew that would somehow end poorly, as things usually did for him when questions about his gender popped up. At least, with the elders, it always turned into a disaster; the nine older men undermining Hanzo’s authority any chance they got despite Sojiro threatening their removal.

“I do not feel comfortable with someone keeping me captive demand that I allow them to examine my body after what I have just endured.” He gave her a small snarl as he sat up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest as he tipped his chin up ever so slightly.

The doctor remained quiet as he gave her a small sneer, crossing his bad leg over the other as he let himself lean back into the chair. “I didn’t intend to come across like that.” Her words were even and measured, Hanzo pleased that she was forcing herself to remain calm and professional as she was made to backtrack. “I,” she paused, “ we simply wish to make sure both yourself and your brother are healthy after being with Talon for so long, just a formal medical checkup.” Her soft features were gone as she backpedalled, she was the stone cold professional he had seen back in Talon’s lab once the brother’s had sprung their trap.

“You must think me a fool, the only person allowed to examine my body and know my health is my private doctor back in Japan. I will answer your questions, but I will not allow you, or any of your staff, to touch my body.”

The doctor—who he learned was named ‘Angela Ziegler’, a renowned woman in her field, or so he had heard—conceded and proceeded to question him about various things, some that a doctor would ask (did he smoke, was he sexually active, any known allergies, so on and so forth), some not so much (was he part of an arranged marriage, what was Genji’s role in the clan, what was expected of Hanzo being the heir). He answered her health questions, only dodging a couple, but he refused to give away any of his family’s secrets. He knew what an interrogation looked like, and this was definitely a soft core version, but an interrogation nonetheless.

He was sure over an hour had passed before Doctor Ziegler let out a frustrated sounding noise, rising to her feet as she excused herself from the room. Hanzo was mildly pleased with himself, liking the little control he had back. They could sit here and argue all they wanted, the little doctor could promise him anything he could dream of, but, at the end of the day, he decided what this little gang learned about the Shimada-gumi. It was petty, but it was control.

He rose to his feet and moved back to the mirror, still ignoring the now cold food as he pulled his hair loose before tying it back up into a much neater bun. Perhaps he could ask for a pair of scissors and cut his hair, wondering how much he would have to beg to get facial products. Hanzo felt about as good as he looked, and he looked like utter shit.

He wanted things to go back to how they were before Talon captured Genji and himself, back to how things had always been. Back to being the heir of the Shimada clan and not being asked intrusive questions about his family that he swore to keep shrouded in secrets.

Chapter Text

The tiny woosh of the door sliding open was Genji’s only indication that someone had entered, but he didn’t bother looking to see who it was as he stretched out the hair tie again and let it launch upwards to the ceiling. He almost felt pleased when he saw the little black tie finally hit the metal after a handful of tries, coming back down and landing on his chest. Genji knew that if Hanzo saw him, he would be chastised for being so simple, but with how blank and bare his room was, he was bored out of his mind. There was no electronics or reading material, all he had was the stupid hair tie, a fresh pair of sweats and t-shirt, and his right hand for the past week and a half after waking up in this strange new place.

He had asked after Hanzo, worried about his brother and hardly able to sleep because of it. Doctor Ziegler had said Hanzo was fine and that was it, she wouldn’t speak more on the matter and speaking of his older brother only seemed to sour the medic’s mood. It had been fun to toy with her, talking about Hanzo endlessly, more lies than truth, but it came to an end as other medics in this facility came to monitor him instead, Doctor Ziegler only showing up if she was absolutely needed.

“Genji Shimada, you have a pretty fancy record.” He glanced over, finding a man dressed in a black getup with a white mask that vaguely reminded him of an owl, a clawed metal finger tapping on the tablet before him. He was used to seeing Doctor Ziegler or one of her other staff members, the Lúcio Correia dos Santos to be precise, but this one was new and Genji instantly felt the need to fuck with him. “Says here you killed a man with his own bullet, that’s pretty impressive.”

Genji rolled his eyes, letting out a small huff as he shot the hair tie back up again. “Nothing’s impressive about people dying. I had a job and I did it.” He lied easily as the hair tie landed on his chest again.

In truth, he wanted to show off to his family, to convince his older brother and father he could be a bodyguard when the heir and spare were in public together. It was mostly to get out of being babysat when the brothers went out and allow them to do whatever they pleased, but Sojiro and Hanzo didn’t need to know that.

When Sojiro heard what he had done, Genji was instantly filled into the guard position he wanted, it also kept the elders off of Genji for a few years after wishing to end his life and made their father pleased that his youngest had finally found his place in their empire.

A deep and raspy chuckle came from the man, his masked face still focused down on the tablet. “Seems like you were also a playboy in Hanamura, I wonder how that went, all things considered.” He knew that by going out to clubs as a yakuza crime lord’s son, he would garner some attention, but not from whatever this shitty little clique was.

“Quite well, actually. I have money and that’s everyone’s favourite colour, plus I’m packing quite nicely if I do say so myself.” He suddenly sat up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed as he tied his hair into a high and loose ponytail, dark brown eyes staring at the masked man. “What the fuck do you want, old man? I can’t imagine you’re truly interested in who I fucked.”

The man moved towards the small table, pulling one of the chairs out before spinning it around to face Genji backwards. He watched curiously as the man straddled the seat, arms resting on the back of the chair as he leaned into it slightly. “The name’s Reaper, and I’m just keeping you company ‘til the doc shows up.”

“You do seem like the type who would be a cute little nurse.” He gave Reaper a small smirk. “I can see you in one of those sexy nurse costumes, all pastel pink and lacy, little bow tied up nicely against your lower back, skimpy little white fishnets covering your legs.” Genji wanted to make Reaper squirm, he wanted to make the man so uncomfortable that he either left or Genji got a rise out of him. He and Hanzo didn’t want to be here, so he would personally make everyone’s life a living hell until they were released.

He was used to being a brat anyways, but these people couldn’t even remotely punish him like the seldom few times Sojiro had; he had free rein here and he wasn’t above abusing that privilege.

Much to his surprise, Reaper let out a short chuckle, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Shimada,” he said in a sing-song voice, taunting him. “I’ve worked with all sorts of people who’ve said all sorts of things.” Genji simply rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, wondering if Hanzo had met this man yet and if his older brother had already made a hit list for when they took out this annoying little clique. “Don’t pout, it doesn’t look good on playboys.”

Genji let out a snort as he flopped back down to lay on his back. “You would know that, you look like someone who likes to get railed by a person better off than you.” That must have been the right thing to say if the scoff and tiny growl were anything to go off. He could call Reaper a bottom bitch if that’s what it took to get a reaction.

“Actually,” Genji started, sitting back up with his new goal, pulling memories from the worst part of his mind that had received more slaps to his face than he could count. His younger years had steep learning curves, training his tongue to say the right thing, and more often than not having to use his assassin training to dodge many fists.

He had been the least charming person he knew when he first started going out to clubs. Even Hanzo had a better mind and mouth for getting someone’s attention despite his life long commitment to celibacy. Genji only really got good at it after Sojiro had made an example of the elders who had wished the youngest Shimada dead; of course Zenyatta helped, but being constantly high on something and drunk on another had definitely helped him get lost in the moment and give him a confidence boost.

Genji’s days and nights for the next few years revolved around clubs, spending maybe a handful of hours at home before he was out again. The only reason he even remotely slowed down was the one terrifying night that Hanzo had crawled into his bed, shaking and close to crying as he spoke of nightmares and terrible orders, whispering of how scared he was of the elders, unsure if he could stop them a second time, especially if Sojiro was gone.

If Hanzo couldn’t stop them, Genji vowed he would be sober enough to do so.

“Now that I think of it, you do seem fairly whipped. Is it Doctor Ziegler?” Reaper stayed silent and didn’t move, so Genji quickly shook his head. “No, that’d be too easy, plus you’d be going on and on about her.” He rose to his feet, moving to pace the length of his bed. “Let’s see, I’ve only met three of you so far, well, five including yourself and the doctor.” Genji quickly tried to recall as much as he could of the day they were ‘freed’, whatever was in the dart made the memory somewhat foggy, but he knew his people well enough from his extensive time at nightclubs to know two lesbians and a closeted gay man when he saw them.

Of course he also had met dos Santos as well, but he wasn’t about to smacktalk his favourite musician and freedom fighter of all time. The man had starred in more than a few dreams, both lewd and clean in nature, more times than he’d like to admit. Genji was reluctant to disclose that he, perhaps, went easy on the musician when it came to tormenting the staff.

Hanzo would shoot him point blank for catching feelings.

“Well, the one girl who helped swipe us plays for the other team, so it can’t be her.” Genji was able to piece together that the woman was Tracer, an old ex-Overwatch poster child, leading him to wondering if this annoying bunch were reestablished agents. It would certainly explain Doctor Ziegler’s presence; last he heard, she was stationed in an aid camp in Egypt. Not that he paid close attention, but someone like her managed to always worm themselves into the spotlight of cryptic tabloids that he perused for fun.

He slowly moved down to the foot of the bed, casually linking his hands behind his back as he began to pace the width of the bed now. “And the other medic, Brenda? Becky? Whatever, she also has good taste in not dating men, especially jacked up on testosterone much like yourself.” Genji moved on once again, stopping at the fake window as he looked out. When he first woke up, he thought they actually were in the middle of a blizzard somewhere. It had disappointed him greatly when he saw the small cluster of dead pixels in the top corner of the screen.

“That leaves the man, he seems like the big, angry, fuck-you-until-you’re-sore type. He also seems like the questionably straight kind of man, most likely into men, and that’s something right up your alley.” He turned his head ever so slightly, pleased to see Reaper look away briefly. That was all the evidence Genji needed to know he hit the nail on the head.

Time to fuck with him, Genji willing to bring the worst of himself out if it meant even a small victory.

“It was kinda hot to see him defenceless if I’m being honest, I only wish I could’ve seen the fear in his eyes when Hanzo held a gun to him, my brother is known to have an itchy trigger finger.” Genji’s lips curled up into a cruel smile as he heard the chair clatter to the floor, turning away from the window calmly to find the masked face only a few centimetres away from his own.

This was too easy.

“Say one more word about him, and I’ll show you who has the itchy trigger finger.” Reaper growled, standing over Genji to intimidate him, or at least try to.

Perhaps in another life, or this one at an earlier point and back in Japan, Genji would’ve tried to bed the man. He liked the feisty ones who put up a fight, he also liked them because he could get them so wound up they wouldn’t notice him swiping items off their person. He didn’t need to do it often, but he wouldn’t be able to carry the Shimada name if he couldn’t disarm an assassin before they even hit the bed.

Genji grinned up at Reaper, turning to face him fully. “You really shouldn’t threaten someone when you don’t have a weapon.” He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he knew the motions; it started with confusion, then went to worry, then panic, and finally pure unadulterated fear.

He calmly took a step back as he raised one of the modified shotguns to Reaper’s forehead, brown eyes cold and emotionless as he fell safely into the bodyguard role he had moulded for himself. “I would greatly appreciate it if you could bring me to Hanzo, we have some matters to discuss.”

Before Reaper could give an answer, the door across the room slid open, Doctor Ziegler standing there in a white lab coat with a shocked expression on her face. Genji dared a peek at her before returning his attention to Reaper.

“What’s going on here?!” Genji wanted to laugh at Doctor Ziegler, ask if she was blind, but instead decided to play somewhat nice for the moment.

“My good friend Reaper was just about to take me to my brother, isn’t that right?” He prodded the gun into the mask’s forehead, pleased to hear the slight growl from the taller man.

Doctor Ziegler seemed to hesitate a moment before taking a couple steps forward, setting her clipboard down onto the small table. “I’m afraid he can’t do that, your brother isn’t here.” Genji stayed stock still, confused to all hell. If Hanzo wasn’t here, then where was he? He certainly wouldn’t have left without his younger brother, not after everything they went through.

Besides, if they sent Hanzo back but kept him, that was the worst collateral they could have chosen. The elders didn’t like Hanzo, but they hated Genji. That night made it abundantly clear. Even if it was to sway Sojiro, this would be a group vote with the elders, and they surely would vote in favour of leaving the spare. Why waste money and resources on something they didn’t even want in the first place?

“He is on the first flight back to Hanamura,” Doctor Ziegler said after a brief pause, “and you will be too, so long as you answer my questions honestly and truthfully.”

Genji sent the glare to Reaper, not daring to turn away from the dangerous man as he gave a rough shove of the shotgun. “You’re lying ,” he hissed, “I know Hanzo as well as I know myself, he wouldn’t leave me.” He quickly sent his glare towards the doctor before looking back to Reaper, and idea forming as he clicked off the safety. “Just for lying, I should kill your little dog here.”

Instantly, the man raised his hands to the sides of his head, bowing his head slightly. “Listen kid, you had your fun, let’s just put the gun down and talk this out.” The little shake in Reaper’s voice was cute, but the two of them were about to learn a valuable lesson.

“Everyone seems to forget one very simple thing about myself and Hanzo.” He paused, smirking as he leaned forward and moved to push the mask off Reaper’s face with the other shotgun. The man before him didn’t stop it, the mask dropping to the floor with a clatter as he pressed the first shotgun right up against his forehead again. “We were born as two powerful heirs to a yakuza; we were taught to punish those who lie to us.”

Genji had to admit, he had never fired a shotgun before, modified or not, but it didn’t really matter that the recoil and sheer power of the shot left his arm tingling. He had no intention of shooting the doctor; his point had been made as Reaper crumpled to the floor, lifeless brown eyes still holding a look of fear as his blood decorated the wall behind him.

He let out a pleased hum as he dropped the guns, quick to jump across the bed as Doctor Ziegler ran towards the lifeless man, her hands seeming to glow a soft yellow that he chose to ignore. Just a trick of the light, he assumed. Just because her suit was modelled after a western depiction of an angel didn’t mean she was one.

Genji shoved the door open, pausing for a moment to get his bearings before turning left and scanning the dimly lit hallway. His room was at the end of the hall, finding a handful of doors and one-way windows. He didn’t believe for a second Hanzo wasn’t here, he knew his brother like he knew his katana, and they shared several common interests; cut down those who wish to hurt them, stay loyal and true to a fault, and above all else, protect Genji without regard to their own bodies.

By some form of luck, his search was cut terribly short as he found his brother in the room next to his own, finding the older one sitting cross legged on his bed, staring at their shared wall in confusion. The shot of the gun must have been loud enough to pierce the thick wall, but it didn’t really matter, they just needed to get out.

With quick work of figuring out the lock, the door slid open, his brown eyes meeting Hanzo’s as twin smirks appeared on their faces. “Took you long enough.” Hanzo chided, getting up as he jogged with a limp to the door. His leg was still not repaired then, such a shame. Hanzo was truly terrifying when he was fully functional.

“I had to knock some sense into a guy in the form of a shotgun shell.” Both shared a brief grin before they took off down the hall, Genji more than ready to finally leave this stupid gang’s hideout and go home. He could already feel the shot of heroin entering his bloodstream and the straight vodka that would burn his throat and warm his stomach. The withdrawal was killing him, though he was sure Sojiro would be proud he was over six months clean.

They made it to the first door, Genji pleased to find it unlocked as they walked into a proper medical facility, one that looked like a combination of a reception area of a hospital and a large medical room. Beds lined the walls with half closed curtains, all appearing to be empty. That was good, the less people trying to intervene the better.

A younger woman with reddish-brown hair, the one he had described to Reaper (Bridget? No, that was close but still didn’t sound quite right), glanced up from the desk near what Genji assumed was their exit, the door behind the desk most likely leading to storage of some sort. She quickly rose to her feet, arms coming in front of her as she formed two fists.

Genji moved first, ducking below her as she swung at him. Hanzo moved in this moment, Genji watching as his brother got behind her and pulled her into a headlock. “We don’t have time to knock her out!” He hissed, Hanzo nodding as he tightened his arms around her neck sharply and briefly before roughly shoving the woman away.

She crashed to the floor, coughing and gasping as she tried to refill her lungs, but the Shimada’s were already at the door as Hanzo slid it open.

They seemed to be in the main hallway now, it wasn’t the same clinical white as the med bay but a dark grey. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no signs indicating where the exit was, they would have to guess and hope for the best.

Hanzo seemed to think as much as he took off down the hall, Genji close behind him as they began to twist through the maze of the halls. It was only a matter of time before the entire base found out—

“Kuso.” Hanzo hissed as the hall suddenly turned red, a loud alarm sounding with a woman’s voice coming through a speaker.

“ Alert, prisoners escaped from the medical bay. Unarmed but dangerous, the Shimada brothers are to be captured alive .”

“How kind of them to think of our lives.” Genji spat, the message repeating itself as they ran like hell down the hall. “We have to find a vent!” There were too many doors, but all vents lead to the same place, thankfully Hanzo seemed to be on the same page as well.

“What else would I possibly be looking for?!” Hanzo snapped back, both rounding a corner and coming to a halt.

In front of them was the man with the red visor who had captured them and a giant of a man with a huge ass hammer. Both men seemed to tense up, Hanzo and Genji instinctively backing away as the younger of the two cracked a small grin towards the shorter man. “Hey, I remember you, no hard feelings, right?”

Genji’s teasing words were met with bullets, barely missing as he and Hanzo quickly turned and headed back around the corner. Capturing them alive was much different than capturing them unharmed .

“Pick a room, there must be a vent!” Genji wasn’t sure why he switched to Japanese, whether it be from fear or autopilot, but Hanzo understood, and at that point, that’s all that really mattered.

The older of the two did as he was told without arguing, by some miracle, and turned to the first room they came upon. Genji didn’t get a chance to read the nameplate as they shoved the door shut and locked it, Hanzo quick to take a step back as he used his good foot to gouge out the panel in the wall beside the door with his heel.

Genji didn’t need to be told what to do as he came forward, beginning to fiddle with wires until the door suddenly let out a hiss of steam and powered down. “That should buy us some time.” Hanzo nodded in agreement, both brothers taking a moment to breathe and calm down as they switched back to English out of habit.

“We need to find a map or take someone hostage, it is our only way out.” Hanzo looked to Genji, the younger one nodding in agreement. They needed to get out and fast, there would be someone there to break down the door soon enough. “We did not think this through.” Hanzo muttered, sighing heavily as he rubbed at his forehead, keeping their attention on the door and listening for footsteps to signal someone was coming to recapture them.

“Ya got that right, darlin’.” Genji was sure he gave himself whiplash at the speed in which he spun around, finding a man sitting on the edge of a bed with a revolver held loosely in one hand between his spread legs.

He wore a plain white t-shirt that almost looked like a size too small, worn blue jeans left little to the imagination of his thick thighs and long legs. A brown stetson was set on his head, deep brown cowboy boots with spurs accompanying the look hid his feet. His skin was deeply sunkissed, freckles peppering his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, hints of the freckles vanishing up the short sleeves of his shirt.

Genji wanted to make some snide comment about how the man looked like he belonged in some cowboy porno, but held his tongue when he was reminded of the revolver in the man’s hand as he flicked the gun and snapped the chamber back into the body of the revolver.

Okay, that was mildly attractive.

Focus! He chastised himself, getting off track so easily at the first sight of something attractive.

Beside him, he could see his older brother tense up, but Genji was doing no better. They didn’t have their weapons, or any weapons, for that matter, and they were trapped in a room with someone who did. “If you surrender, they ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Hanzo let out a snort, Genji silently begging his brother not to egg the man on. “And why should I believe you? How do I know your company will not hurt us like Talon has done?”

“Hanzo,” Genji hissed, “shut the fuck up—”

“Naw, he’s got a point.” Genji snapped his attention back to the man, almost relaxing when he saw the gun set aside on the nightstand. “But I don’t think it’s too smart tryin’ t’get yourselves killed. We’re tryin’ to stop Talon, ain’t got no reason to harm either of ya.” Genji didn’t believe him for a second; who wouldn’t want to harm two heirs of the most influential crime empire in Japan, if not the world? He thought it was silly that either of them were still alive if he was being honest.

Before Genji could argue any further, Hanzo cut in without sparing a glance to the younger one. “What is your name?” Genji fully turned and looked at Hanzo in confusion, trying to figure out what he could gain from this.

“Cassidy.” Genji snapped back to look at the seated man, trying to figure out if he had missed something. Why was this so casual and smooth? Why did it feel like they knew each other?

I swear , Genji thought, if he has a crush on the cowboy ...

Hanzo suddenly brought his hands up to the side of his head in surrender, glancing to Genji for a moment before looking back at the American across from them who was rising to his feet. “We surrender and will come peacefully.”

Genji gawked at him, quick to grab his brother’s arms and yank them down sharply to his sides. “No we don’t , what the fuck are you doing?!” The look Hanzo sent was dangerous, something he’d seen the older one give those who crossed him, but he didn’t back down.

“Ototo, we must reflect on what we have learned.” Hanzo’s brown eyes slid over to the man as he switched to Japanese, Genji following, as he typed a message out on a phone-like device. “We are in a military base,” his voice dipped low, Genji having to lean in just to hear, “we may as well use them to gain information for the clan.” Genji was sure Hanzo was brewing something more in his mind, but he didn’t get to ask as the door behind them suddenly opened with a hiss, the cowboy walking over easily as a short and round man, Doctor Ziegler, and—

“How the fuck are you alive!?” Genji’s eyes were wide, his heart feeling like it had stopped as he stared at Reaper . “I shot you in the head! I saw the life leave your eyes!” Genji was backpedalling further into the room, colliding with the American. He tried to shove further away, but the sunkissed man was built like a wall as two strong hands suddenly gripped his shoulders to steady him.

“We weren’t done with our little conversation.” Genji felt sick to his stomach, he had killed this man, he knew Reaper was dead before his body hit the floor. He was an assassin, he knew when his targets were faking it, knew when they pretended to be wounded. It had been something that he had paid for many times until he finally learned, never feeling prouder than when Sojiro complimented him and Hanzo had given that little half smile with a look of pride in his eyes.

Genji was quiet for a moment before he sent a sharp glare to Hanzo, his older brother looking mildly confused at the exchange as Genji switched to Japanese and pushed himself away from Cassidy’s grasp. “If we die here, it’s your fault.”

Chapter Text

Cole followed Angela as they headed deeper into her medical facility, past where the brothers were held before their botched escape attempt, Cole excited to see what had become of the Shimada’s since the week before. It was all anyone seemed to talk about, even those who claimed to hate him; how Cole Cassidy had been able to sedate and make the brothers surrender. He didn’t really know how much of that was true, he still felt weird about it. Something wasn’t right; Hanzo had seemed too confident after hearing his name, the surrender far too calculated and out of left field with what he knew of the Shimada brothers.

Granted, that wasn’t a lot, but both Hanzo and Genji were prideful creatures, anyone could see that. Until only a week ago, he thought the brothers hadn’t even known the concept of surrendering.

He didn’t get to dwell on it any longer as Angela opened a large metal door, leading them into what looked strikingly familiar to the interrogation rooms downstairs as well as the medical holding cells. The stark white walls of the medical cells were replaced with a soft grey, still very clinical in nature, but had more ‘bachelor suite’ qualities to make them feel more homey despite the one-way mirrors. Gabe had told Cole once that high value targets were roomed here, to help make them feel like they still had some pride left. He wasn’t sure how much pride was left in the elder brother after his pitiful surrender.

They passed by the first room, Cole glancing in to see Genji seated at the table as he ate, reading a book as he did so. The long greying strands of his hair were pulled up into a high ponytail, his beard completely gone from his face. Angela had mentioned she needed to get an electric razor, now Cassidy knew why. He was sure that was a fun conversation between them.

The second homey cell is where they stopped, Angela looking through the glass. Cole stopped beside her, finding Hanzo with his back to the mirror, looking out the ‘window’. His black hair was down past the middle of his back and looked tangled and greasy, Cole wondering what possessed the man to not groom himself once the brothers had been moved to these new rooms and supplied with the essentials.

He couldn’t help but find it slightly amusing that the younger one (a playboy and drug addict, he heard) took better care of himself than the heir to their empire.

The assassin’s meal was set on the table, still steaming but untouched. He half wondered if the older Shimada thought it was poisoned or if it had offended him. It wasn’t like they had the resources to feed the man something grand like he had with the yakuza, they didn’t even know what the brothers liked besides Genji lipping off and Hanzo being moody.

“Hanzo refuses to speak to anyone but Genji,” Angela started, Cole looking over to her as she continued on. “But we’ve managed to get Genji talking by having Lúcio as his primary companion, I think we can do the same for Hanzo.”

“I thought he ain’t talkin’ to no one.”

“Exactly, no one is able to get a word out of him except two people; Genji,” she paused, turning to look at him, “and you.”

Instantly Cole was pulling away, his eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now hold on a minute—”

“He’s only spoken to you out of everyone on staff, no matter which medic I send in, he refuses to even look at them.” He could hear the pleading tone slowly creep into Angela’s voice. “He spoke more than a singular word to you, he could do it again.”

He was shaking his head, taking another step back for good measure. “I had a gun and he had jack shit, ‘course he’s gonna talk me down from usin’ it.”

“Genji wasn’t going to.”

“What’s he gotta do—”

“They’re both assassins, do you really believe a gun would stop them?”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, wanting to argue but unable to help his own thoughts that bubbled up. Cole had made note of Hanzo’s picture when they pulled it from Olivia’s info, and had clearly thought his teeth alone could kill someone. He himself believed the brothers to be terribly powerful and resourceful, even without weapons.

Cole had walked into Angela’s trap.

He gave her a small scowl. “What am I supposed t’say to ‘em? Make friends wit’ him?”

“Yes, actually.” Cole’s frown deepened. “That’s what Lúcio did, it also helped that Genji knew him from his music and freedom fighter status. Hanzo doesn’t seem to care, he didn’t even know who I was until I said my name.”

“And if he won’t talk to me?”

“Then I move on to the next person.”

He stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out if she knew of his infatuation. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, Angela didn’t actually believe he could get the assassin to talk, did she? On the other hand, he could potentially grow closer with Hanzo, maybe at least end up being friends once the brothers went back to Japan. He could settle with that, he told himself, he could settle.

“Fine.” He muttered, Angela giving him a big smile, “but I’m only doin’ this ‘cuz you asked.” And maybe ‘cuz I’m a mite bit selfish , he amended silently to himself.

“Thank you Cole!” Quickly, she moved to the door, sliding her keycard as well as typing in a code. Cole supposed he would be getting his own code and card if Hanzo finally broke his silent treatment, but he highly doubted that.

Angela gestured for him to enter once the door opened, Cole doing so as he heard the door slide shut and the lock click into place behind him.

From his spot on his bed, Hanzo didn’t even stir, keeping his gaze to the window. Cole, not wanting to spook the man from his thoughts, walked over noisily to the table, ensuring his spurs clicked with each step until he sat down heavily, his back to the door. He kicked his feet up onto the table, one crossed over the other as he leaned back.

He glanced over to Hanzo, finally seeing those deep brown eyes glaring at him. “Howdy,” Cole greeted with a tip of his hat, the assassin letting out a scoff as he sharply turned and looked away.

As Hanzo’s silence continued on, Cole eventually pulled out his phone, playing some word game as he waited. He would give the assassin time, let Hanzo speak up on his own. Cole was sure that the brothers were trained like he was; told not to speak, keep your secrets close to your chest, don’t let anyone know what you know. It wasn’t like he was expecting the older one to say anything anyways, this was all a gamble, a ‘might as well try it because Angie asked oh so nicely’.

About two hours into the silence, the two men barely paying attention to one another, Cole got stumped, humming to himself before taking a shot in the dark. “Say, ya wouldn’t happen to know a synonym for ‘atypical’, thirteen letters, starts with a ‘p’?”

“Preternatural,” Cole hadn’t expected an answer, nearly falling back from his chair that was resting on the back to legs when Hanzo softly spoke up after a couple seconds.  “P-r-e-t-e-r-n-a-t-u-r-a-l.”

He let out a low whistle as he righted himself, typing it in and was pleased to see he finally passed the level. “Damn, don’t think I would’ve ever gotten that.” Hanzo let out a snort.

“No, I suppose not.” Cole glanced up, meeting Hanzo’s eyes as the shorter one gave him a smirk. He could handle the jab as his intellect, he wasn’t a fool, he knew how he looked. If the big and scary yakuza man thought he was stupid, then maybe he could get away with prying more.

Cole returned an easy grin, sliding his phone away as he sat up and removed his boots from the table. Instantly, Hanzo was tense again, smirk gone as he stared at the cowboy. “Don’t mean t’sound rude, but why ain’t ya washin’ yer hair?”

Hanzo looked confused for half a second before his eyes narrowed, a small snarl pulling at his lips. “Why would you care?”

Cole shrugged, propping his head up with one hand, elbow planted firmly on the table. “I don’t, but that’s normal. Mighty surprised you don’t care.”

He waited patiently as Hanzo continued to just stare, as if he was searching for some ulterior motive. He could search Cole’s soul all he wanted, he had nothing to hide.

Well, except maybe that he caught feelings for a man who could kill him in a blink of an eye, but that was besides the point.

Finally, the tension in Hanzo’s shoulders vanished, looking away. “The products Doctor Ziegler has supplied smell too familiar to what is used to clean up,” he paused, looking back to Cole, “to clean up messes in my ancestral home.”

He was able to see a thinly— very thinly—veiled threat when it was given, though he wasn’t sure how telling Cole this was supposed to spook him. It wasn’t like he was some innocent person, he knew what gangs did, he knew what messes only got cleaned with something that had a hint of lemon to cover all the smell of chemicals. Deadlock hadn’t used them nearly as much as they should have, but the smell had followed him when he ran from Zurich.

Casually, Cole pulled out a small pad of paper and pen, deciding to make a show of writing a list. “A’ight, any brands or smells you’d prefer?” He looked up, catching Hanzo staring at him with owlish eyes.

The aloof look was back in an instant, Hanzo letting out a huff as he stood and stalked towards Cole and the table. “Give it here, you will write it wrong.” He did as he was told, sliding the paper and pen over, Hanzo leaning over to scribble down some words.

Hanzo slid it back, Cole holding back a grin when he saw it was written in Japanese, an English translation following in small, tidy, all capital letters that looked infinitely more legible than Cole’s own chicken scratch, even when he was trying. “I can get that for ya.” He looked back up to Hanzo, the shorter one giving a nod as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Noticed ya ain’t eatin’ either, wanna cook yer own shit?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“Sure, ya got yer own kitchen, don’t ya?” Both men glanced over to the kitchenette, Cole wondering if it had ever crossed Hanzo’s mind to ask.

He knew Genji had demanded he cook his own food, Cole receiving a grocery list the other day when he told Angela he was heading to the mainland. Between the brothers, Hanzo seemed to think they all knew what he wanted and Genji would make demands for what he needed. If Cole had to guess, Genji was used to getting Hanzo what he wanted so the heir wasn’t made to ask.

Hanzo seemed to hesitate for a moment before sitting down across from Cole, gesturing for the notepad.

The next three hours was Cole just filling the silence, chattering away about whatever crossed his mind. Hanzo didn’t seem to mind, writing down things on his list as he thought of them. It was oddly peaceful, just able to sit and chat with someone.

Cole couldn’t remember the last conversation he had that wasn’t business related, and, he supposed, this was technically only to get Hanzo to talk for Angela, but it was the first semblance of ‘normal’ since running out on the team before everything went up in flames.

“I have a question for you,” Hanzo started, interrupting Cole in the middle of a tall tale about his time on the family ranch out in Texas that never existed.

“Shoot.”

“Are you only here because Doctor Ziegler has failed to get anyone else to speak with me?” Cole was mildly surprised Hanzo had pieced it together, though he probably shouldn’t have been. An assassin didn’t get this far in life without being able to read between the lines.

He gave Hanzo a small smirk, setting his elbows on the table and holding his head up with both hands under his chin. “Pretty and smart, yer sure the whole package, ain’tcha, Shimada?” His smirk grew slightly as Hanzo let out a huff, dropping his head back down as pink began to creep across his cheeks.

“Flattery will get you nothing.” Hanzo muttered, sending daggers at Cole as he laughed.

“Who says I’m anglin’ for somethin’?”

Hanzo seemed unimpressed, suddenly standing and sliding the pen and pad of paper across the table back to the cowboy. “Get out.”

Cole’s smirk was instantly gone, standing up quickly as he reached out to the assassin, but thought better of it as Hanzo turned to head back to his bed.

Awkwardly, he scooped up his things, placing his hat back on his head and his things into various pockets. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get ya yer things ya wanted.” Hanzo said nothing, keeping his back to Cole as he sat ramrod straight, very much the picture of a perfect scion.

Fuck .

His second encounter with the yakuza heir went much more smoothly, having learned that Hanzo didn’t enjoy being teased or overly flirted with. Lúcio had mentioned in passing that Genji said something about Hanzo giving hell to those who had shown their affections unprompted, that had encouraged Cole enough to not have a repeat.

Hanzo had seemed surprised when Cole had come into his cell a few days after, but quietly, and perhaps almost begrudgingly, said his thanks before vanishing into the bathroom for an hour and a half.

They spent the afternoon chatting as Hanzo cooked and cleaned up his unit, though Cole did most of the talking, but once again, Hanzo hadn’t seemed to mind.

A month after, Cole having fallen into a routine of chat, share lunch, do a basic workout, then play some word games on Cole’s phone, Hanzo decided to forgo phone time as he flopped onto the bed on his back. Cole couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips, pleased that Hanzo was slowly acting less proper around him.

He wholeheartedly treasured the heavily fragile friendship that had bloomed between them, that friendship able to snap and break had one of them said something to offend the other. More often than not, Cole was guilty of pissing Hanzo off, banished for a handful of hours before Angela texted to alert him that Hanzo called for him again. He would enter the room, both awkward and refusing to apologise, before they would sharply jump back into whatever they had been doing prior to Cole being kicked out.

Perhaps not the healthiest relationship to have with someone, but Cole was just happy Hanzo would speak to him at all.

“Cassidy?” He let out a hum that he heard, moving to flop down beside Hanzo. “I…” Hanzo trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I understand why I cannot contact those in Japan, but I must speak with my personal doctor before the month is up.”

Cole quirked up an eyebrow as he rolled onto his side, looking to Hanzo only to find the older one’s eyes glued to the ceiling. “I know ya don’t like Angie, but we also got Lúcio and Brig if ya need to see someone.” Hanzo was shaking his head before Cole had even finished, abruptly sitting up.

The heir was quiet for a moment before letting out a small sigh, suddenly tense and sitting up straight again. “It is a personal matter that will only be discussed with my doctor.”

Cole felt his stomach roll, biting his lip as he glanced over to the one-way mirror. Angela had given him his own card, at his request, and she had been busy fixing up a nasty cut on Zarya’s leg when he had briefly left to get a pack of cards from his room earlier. He should be the only one down here, other than maybe Lúcio, but he couldn’t be sure, and he knew Angela had told Athena to record all vocal interactions.

He sat up, tapping Hanzo on the elbow and gesturing with his head to follow. He looked confused but did as he was told and followed the cowboy over to the table, Cole opening his notepad and writing as he spoke to Hanzo. “Don’t think that’ll fly, darlin’, and it ain’t my choice.”

He pushed the paper and pen to Hanzo, watching him read over the words.

Hanzo glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. Cole only nodded, gesturing to the paper. “Of course,” Hanzo growled out, sounding far too angry to match his surprised look. “You and your company still wish to deprive me of my basic rights.” Cole watched Hanzo’s hand intensely as he scribbled under where Cole had written.

The paper was slid back, Cole relieved to see his question of does your doc have a phone number? was answered with a name and an eleven digit number.

“You have insulted me enough, get out.” Cole looked up, meeting dark brown eyes that seemed more alive and hopeful than he’d seen during all his visits in the past month.

“‘Course, sorry darlin’.” He gave a tip of his hat and hurried out of Hanzo’s room, paper folded and shoved into his pocket as he took off down the hall. He needed to plan this out perfectly, figure out how to get around, well, everyone .

“One atta time, Cole.” He mumbled, quickly taking off back to his room. 

Once his door was shut and locked, he moved to the centre of the room and glanced up. “Can I trust ya?” He asked, Athena making a small beep in recognition as a little blue light turned on in the corner of his room.

“Of course, Agent Cassidy.”

“Just Cassidy, I ain’t no agent.”

“As you wish, Cassidy.”

That was a good start, he supposed. “I got some questions, an’ I’m really hopin’ we’re close enough you ain’t gonna lie to me.”

He was sure she would have let out a laugh had she been able to, her voice filled with amusement. “Why would I ever lie to a nosey cowboy?” Despite his inner turmoil, Cole let out a small chuckle, relaxing.

“This ain’t my Blackwatch days anymore, I’m not fishin’ for a way t’get out.” He paused, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “No, I reckon I need t’get someone in .”

Athena was quiet for a long minute, Cole half wondering if she had alerted Winston or Lena.

Shit.

He would need Lena again, and he doubted she would be on board to smuggle a yakuza doctor on base. Right about now, he was wishing he would’ve taken flight lessons when he had a chance.

“During a power outage,” Athena started, jolting Cole back to the present. “A backup generator will perform necessary system requirements until power is restored to the main generators. While the main generators are down, all doors will be locked and require agent pin numbers, but no cards, to enter and exit any door, as well as all recording functions being temporarily disabled as they are not necessities.

“My systems will also be disabled during this downtime in order to protect my core should this outage be due to hostiles, so I will be unable to respond or perform any of my functions.” That was his out, a power outage, he could get Hanzo’s doctor in—

Or he could get Hanzo out .

It would be easier to spin a tale of why Hanzo was out of his cell than explain why Cole had let this Japanese woman in. 

“How long would ya be out for?” Cole asked casually, moving to sit on his bed as he pulled out the paper, thumbing over Hanzo’s neat writing.

Athena was quiet for a moment again before speaking up. “The shortest time I could be out for is 15 minutes. The main generators are automatically set to try restarting after 10 minutes of downtime, in cases where an outside force has disabled or attempted to disable the generators, someone must be sent to restart them and ensure no viruses have been uploaded into my core.”

Cole’s mind was racing with dozens of plans, but he knew for sure he would need one of Olivia’s EMP bombs, a burner phone, and a pilot. Two of these things would be easy as pie to get, but the pilot would be a new level of difficulty he didn’t wish to deal with.

“Good to know, I was mighty worried what would happen to ya.” Athena said nothing more as Cole quickly dressed down and made his way out of the base to go get that phone.

He returned an hour and a half later with Genji and Hanzo’s shopping lists in tow, dropping them off with Angela, before making his way back to his room.

The door was closed and locked in record pace, Cole pulling out the small earpiece and the purple chip. “Sorry Athena.” Her light blinked, indicating that she was about to respond, when the light sharply turned purple and faded out.

Three taps and a short second later, Olivia was in his ear again. “ What’d I do to become so popular? ” She teased, Cole ignoring the teasing comment.

“I need a EMP bomb, nothin’ huge, just big enough to knock out some gens and an AI.”

Olivia was quiet for a moment before rapid typing filled the silence. “ Sure, vaquero, I can do that, but it’ll run you a mil’ .”

“Deal.” She fell silent again, typing gone silent. 

He didn’t have the time or luxury to argue or hash out a more fair price, he needed to gain Hanzo’s trust, and if this was the best way, then so be it.

“ What’s going on? ”

“I’ll explain later, can ya get me the bomb or not?” Olivia seemed to hesitate, but she let out a hum in confirmation. “Good, good,” Cole paused, his eyes widening slightly. She had to have had dozens upon dozens of connections, and there was no way he could ask Lena to do this.

“Say, you wouldn’t happen t’know a pilot, would ya?”

“ Don’t you have one of your own? ”

“I’ll give ya the names ya want if ya stop askin’ questions.”

“ I have a friend, yeah, I’ll send you his info .” On cue, his burner phone gave a little buzz. “ I can send the EMP bomb with him when he comes to get you, where’re you going? ”

“Japan.”

Quickly, he finished up his call with her, stowing the earpiece away but kept the disrupter up, punching in Hanzo’s contact information to a ‘Yuki Chifumi’.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. It was nearing the last few seconds before he would be sent to voicemail when the other end was picked up. A string of angry sounding Japanese met him, Cole feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of checking the time before he phoned.

“Uh, mighty sorry t’be phonin’ if it’s late for ya,” he started once the woman on the other end fell silent. “But I need t’speak with someone named ‘Yuki Chifumi’?”

The woman was silent long enough that Cole pulled the phone away to ensure she hadn’t hung up, but finally she spoke quietly. “ How did you get this number? ”

“Would ya believe me if I said Hanzo Shimada gave it to me?”

She was silent again, but spoke up much sooner than before. “ Purely on principle, no .” Fuck, how was he supposed to convince her? It wasn’t like he could just put Hanzo on the phone— “ But there’s no other way to have gotten this number without him, so I’ll entertain the idea that you’ve spoken to him .” That was a better place to start than any.

“Are ya Yuki then?”

“ I am. ”

“Thank fuck, a’ight. Okay. So, he said he needs t’see his doc before the month’s up, don’t know why , but that ain’t my business. He gave me yer name and number since he ain’t allowed any tech. You his doctor?”

Yuki snorted, Cole able to hear her moving around the room she was in as she spoke. “ Hardly, but I can contact his doctor. Where is he? ”

Would she deny helping Hanzo if Cole didn’t give their location? It wasn’t like he could take Hanzo back to Japan while Winston was writing up negotiations, and he certainly couldn’t lead a yakuza here. “Sorry, sugar, but that’s classified. Either I come get yer doctor or he don’t see anyone.”

“ He has been missing for months on end —”

“I know, I know, but I ain’t in charge here, I’d be thrown out inna heartbeat if anyone found out I led y’all here, let alone called ya.”

Yuki let out a noise that may as well have been a growl. “ You Americans play so dirty ,” she hissed, not giving Cole a chance to agree as she continued on. “ Fine, I will allow you to come get his doctor, but if she or Hanzo are hurt in the process, I will personally seek you out and skin you alive. Are we clear? ”

“Crystal.” He managed to stammer out as his voice rose an octave, terrified of who this woman was and what her place in the pecking order she resided on.

“ I will send you a flight plan in the morning, it will have a codename generated to give to the control towers so they allow you through .”

“Thanks sugar, and one other thing.” Yuki sighed heavily in his ear, and he suddenly wondered if she and Hanzo were related. “I ask that yer doc has no phone, weapons, or other tech, we’re underground right now and I don’t need an entire damn yakuza swarming us.”

Yuki let the silence carry on far longer than Cole was comfortable with, but she finally let out a small defeated sigh. “ Fine, I agree to your terms. Good day to you .” Before he could reply, she hung up, Cole leaning back as he blinked.

He was mildly put out that she didn’t give him a chance to say anymore, but whatever, he got what he wanted, no use crying over spilt milk.

.:.

Hanzo frowned, looking over to the clock on the wall to find Cassidy running late again. Not that the cowboy was forced to spend his time with Hanzo, but he had gotten used to having a companion, regardless of how strenuous it could get between them. Usually, Cassidy would have said something the day before, telling Hanzo he wouldn’t be able to make it or that he would be late the next day.

Today was day three of a no show after he had given the cowboy Yuki’s emergency number, perhaps he had gone to get Chifumi now, or maybe Yuki had tracked his call and was on the way herself. He wouldn’t be surprised if that woman went through hell and back for him and Genji, she was more loyal than all the elders put together.

Sharply, Hanzo stood up straighter and scowled at himself. How childish, fawning over the first kind person he met, greedily wishing for more of the man’s time. He was the heir to his father’s kingdom, he couldn’t afford any distractions. He and Genji would return home, and Cassidy would be forgotten.

Though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to forget him.

Hanzo’s mind was pulled back to the present as the power suddenly cut out, leaving him in total darkness.

Freezing, he held his breath as he listened in the silence, it seemed even the fans had been turned off, all the little white noise he had come to find comfort in suddenly gone.

Was there an attack? A scheduled downtime for maintenance? Did the power suddenly going out have something to do with Cassidy’s lack of presence? Hanzo let out a small hum as he tried to solve the question to a situation he had no intelligence on. Perhaps he should try to open the door, maybe they decided to suddenly unlock during a power outage.

With a huff, he frowned as the door stayed firmly in place.

It was another long handful of seconds before the fans finally kicked back in, the room suddenly bathed in a deep amber glow as the emergency lights came on.

His frown deepened as he moved to sit on his bed, staring at the door. His hand sat near his pillow, waiting to see who would show up and if they deserved to be met with a question or a butter knife.

Hanzo was up and standing as a knock came to his door, knife in hand. He could faintly hear the telltale sound of a set of numbers being punched up, but the loud beep and slide of a card wasn’t present. He only relaxed slightly when he saw it was Cassidy pushing his way into the room. “What happened—”

“I’d love t’answer yer questions,” Cassidy started as Hanzo slid the knife back under his pillow, the younger one not even questioning the act, “but we don’t got a whole lotta time.” Hanzo let out a small noise of surprise as the cowboy grabbed his hand tightly, tugging him towards the open door.

Too confused and flustered to ask further questions, he allowed Cassidy to lead him out into the hallway. He expected the cowboy to turn and blindfold him, do literally anything to ensure Hanzo could not retrace their steps, but Cassidy didn’t look back as he kept a firm grip on Hanzo’s hand and led him through the maze.

He kept quiet as they went around twists and turns; memorising their path as Cassidy stopped every now and then, watching in complete silence as someone ran past, yelling about an ‘Athena’ and ‘where the hell is Cassidy’, Hanzo looking at the cowboy and only received a shrug.

Once they were outside, Cassidy released his hand and Hanzo briefly mourned the loss, already missing his warmth. The feeling was quickly stomped down, his emotions pulled back in close to his chest. The only reason he felt anything was because Cassidy was the first person in his life to not treat him like an item to be had, he was kind to Hanzo and the archer was simply touch starved since he wasn’t in contact with Genji.

Yes, that was definitely it. He did not linger on the thought any longer as Cassidy led him away from the base.

When Cassidy didn’t speak up and explain himself as he led the way along a worn path, Hanzo took it upon himself to start the conversation for once. “What are you doing?”

Cassidy glanced over his shoulder briefly before he looked back forward. “Walkin’ with ya.” Hanzo rolled his eyes.

“I can see that,” he said dryly, “but why am I out here? And what happened on the base?”

Cassidy was silent for longer than Hanzo appreciated, and just as he was about to speak up again and demand he get some answers, the cowboy slowed and walked beside the archer.

“Athena went down ‘cuz someone messed with her and the gens.” Hanzo held in a scoff, Cassidy was a bad liar. “I’m usin’ this as a perfect moment to let us see yer doc.”

Hanzo came to a stop, feeling his mouth fall open and his eyes widen. “ What? ”

The cowboy stopped, turned with a small huff as he gestured to behind Hanzo. “They ain’t ever lettin’ one of yer colleagues come here, so I had t’get creative.

“When the gens don’t start back up in 10 minutes, they’ll go start pokin’ to see what’s wrong. We got 30 minutes to get ya out to yer doc, have an exam, and head back. And that’s being mighty generous.” Hanzo was rooted to the spot, mind reeling as he tried to figure out what he’d done to deserve this. “So I’d very much appreciate it if ya stopped yer gawkin’ and we moseyed on.”

Hanzo steeled himself, face becoming tight once again as he gave a brisk nod. “Of course, lead the way.” It wouldn’t do to bite the hand currently feeding him.

Cassidy nodded back, turning and continued on with a fast pace. Hanzo scowled slightly when he realised that the cowboy was just taking longer strides, Hanzo having to take more steps just to keep up.

“I understand where we are going,” Hanzo started, matching the pace as he came up beside the cowboy. “But I do not understand your motive; what do you gain by helping me?”

Cassidy let out a small chuckle, but didn’t turn to look at Hanzo. “Ya saw the news when Zurich blew up, ya really think I took kindly to ‘em usin’ me as a scapegoat?”

No, Hanzo supposed, he couldn’t think of a single soul who would like that. Except maybe Genji, his younger brother did love being the centre of attention.

“I doubt they all blame you.” Cassidy shrugged.

“Yer right ‘bout that, I still got some friends, but I’d rather just get my money and be on my merry way.”

Typical, Cassidy was merely a gun for hire after his fall from grace (if Blackwatch could be considered angelic in any sense of the word), motivated by the size of his pay cheque and nothing else. Though, that could work in Hanzo’s favour if the man was only money motivated these days. Hanzo surely had more than what Cassidy’s current company could offer the cowboy, maybe this was his and Genji’s ticket out of here.

They continued on in silence as Hanzo pieced together his plan, trying to figure out his wording when Cassidy cleared his throat. “Honey, I’m home!” He called out, Hanzo ducking slightly, reaching for a weapon on his back that wasn’t there.

Two figures bled out of the shadows of the surrounding trees, a shorter one in a mask that lit up in a blue triangle that was pointed down, and the other a taller dark skinned man in blue and orange armour.

The man let out a low whistle, arms crossing over his chest. “Never thought I’d meet the Hanzo Shimada.” He opened his mouth to reply when the man continued on. “Is it true you’re making plans to work with Talon?”

Hanzo let out a scoff, standing up taller and tipped his chin up ever so slightly. “As if I would allow my family to mingle with those dogs.”

He received a smile for his words, the man holding out his hand to shake. “Then we’re on the same side,” for now , Hanzo quietly amended. “I’m Baptiste, and my friend here is Shrike.”

He glanced down at the offered hand, weighing his options, before gripping Baptiste’s hand tightly. “A pleasure to meet you both, I apologise it is not under better circumstances. It seems those against Talon are in short supply during these times.” Baptiste let out a hum in agreement, both releasing their grip as the taller one took a step back to stand beside Shrike.

Normally, he would demand that all those present remove anything to hide their identity, but they had one of his doctors here, so he would play nice for now.

Hanzo moved to extend his hand to Shrike, but they simply held up a hand to stop before bowing. He let out a tiny sigh of relief as he gave a short bow back to them.

“Great, y’all know each other, now can we move along? We ain’t got the largest time bank t’work with.” Hanzo rolled his eyes, looking over to Cassidy to find an unlit cigarillo hanging from the corner of the cowboy’s mouth.

Baptiste let out a laugh, nodding as he gestured with his hand to follow. “Sure, sure, wouldn’t want Overwatch kicking you out.”

That piqued Hanzo’s interest.

“Overwatch you say?” Hanzo asked, giving a side eye to Cassidy only to find the brim of his hat obscuring most of his face.

He had recognized Cassidy purely from when Blackwatch was pulled out from the shadows, their faces and names made public for everyone to see. Hanzo had known that was the cowboy’s previous employment, but to hear that Overwatch was reformed, going against the Petras Act, that was certainly interesting.

“Yup, everyone with an old Overwatch ID or device received Winston’s recall message, you’d be surprised how many switched sides.”

“Switched sides?” Cassidy suddenly spat out, Hanzo taking half a step away. He also was curious as to what that could possibly mean, only he would’ve used more tack to ask.

Baptiste glanced away for a moment, looking mildly upset as he finally spoke, voice low and quiet, as if there was someone out in the forest listening in. “I was orphaned in the Omnic Crisis, joined the military, and when that route ran dry, Talon had some openings.” He let out a heavy sigh, but hardened as he looked Cassidy in the eyes. “I didn’t know their true nature until it was too late, but I’ve changed; I want to help people, not help add to the body count.”

“You expect me t’believe that load of—”

“You may argue philosophies once I have seen my doctor,” Hanzo cut in, Cassidy sending him a dangerous look. “How do you suppose Overwatch would receive the news if I am not back in my room in 20 minutes, hm? Would they cut your funds or just discharge you all together? I would enjoy—”

“Okay, ya made yer fuckin’ point.” Cassidy hissed as he moved and stomped past them to head into the forest.

Hanzo turned back to Baptiste, giving a shallow dip of his head. “For what it is worth, I believe it an honourable choice to follow a moral code over the orders of an institution.” He received a funny look, Baptiste narrowing his eyes slightly.

“That’s rich coming from a yakuza.”

Hanzo gave a small smirk, moving to head after Cassidy. “I suppose so, but unlike you, I am very well aware of my family’s nature.”

It wasn’t very hard to catch up with Cassidy, he may have stomped on ahead but it seemed he didn’t entirely know where he was going. Shrike followed behind the archer and Baptiste brought up the rear, no doubt wishing to keep distance between himself and Hanzo.

“Young Master!” Hanzo’s head shot up as Chifumi, a short and round young lady with long black hair, called out to him, quickly making her way over.

He couldn’t help but smile, holding back a chuckle as the 18 year old nearly crashed into him, backing away just enough to bow deeply to him. “Greetings, how is your grandfather?” Hanzo asked in Japanese, hearing Cassidy let out a heavy sigh before he turned to speak with Shrike. No doubt the cowboy was bothered that he couldn’t listen in, but Hanzo was beyond caring at this point. If Cassidy wished to eavesdrop, then he could learn the language.

“Natsu-san is well, Young Master, he was upset you didn’t wish to see him.”

Hanzo let out a hum, allowing for Chifumi to lead them over to where her medical bag was set up. “I apologise, but these dogs seem to have bought Genji and I’s medical records from him.”

Chifumi stopped, gawking at him. “No! Grandfather would never—” He raised his hand, and instantly she snapped her mouth shut.

“I am aware, the information was bought from Jirou , not Natsu-san.”

Chifumi was silent for a moment, staring into her bag in silence before slowly looking up at him. “Someone was able to hack our records?” She whispered, as if the other three could suddenly understand them.

Hanzo hummed. “I am afraid so, please do tell Yuki-san once you return. Inform her to run procedure 28, it will scramble all encryption codes and should hold until I return to check the firewall.” Chifumi nodded, pulling out a small notepad to scribble the note down.

“Of course, Young Master.” Once that was squared away, she looked back up to him before hesitantly gesturing to the ground. “I apologise for not having a proper facility, Young Master.” He waved her off.

“These are odd circumstances, do not feel as if you deserve the blame.” She seemed to relax as she let out a sigh of relief, Hanzo moving to sit seiza. He watched closely as she set out a clean towel and began to pull out a syringe and a little bottle filled with a yellow tinged liquid.

Without a word, he removed his shirt and turned his right shoulder to face his doctor, Chifumi letting out a hum as she slid on blue medical gloves. “Has anyone tampered with the port?” She asked, grabbing a small device that looked very similar to a toothbrush without the bristles.

“No, Natsu-san and Ayaka-sama would have my head if I let anyone touch their work.” Chifumi let out a snort, smiling softly as she brought the not-toothbrush up to his shoulder.

“You know she doesn’t like being called -sama.”

“I am well aware,” Hanzo couldn’t help the little smirk that played on his lips, watching as the device caught and gently pulled away the small patch of artificial skin to reveal a small hole.

Chifumi stopped, as she usually did at this point, and gave a little shiver before continuing on. “I hate that part.” She mumbled, sending a mock glare at the artificial skin flap.

While she was still in the early stages of learning, Natsu had used the wand to reveal the injection point while Chifumi gave him the shot. It was only a year ago she had done it herself for the first time, her grandfather forcing her to lift the skin every month to get used to the sight until he and Genji were stolen away.

“Okay, I’m going to do a quick system diagnostics to ensure that it’ll still inject the correct dosage and then we’ll refill the gauge.”

Hanzo could help the little chuckle that left him, sending her a tiny smirk. “It would be an interesting way to go; overdosing on testosterone.”

“And leave Genji-san in charge? You better not!”

He let out another chuckle before falling into silence, watching as she cleaned the injection point with an alcohol wipe and moved to clean the top of the little bottle. “Yuki-san sent a gift for you with me.” Chifumi mumbled under her breath.

Hanzo looked away from his arm and quirked up an eyebrow up at her.

Chifumi continued on in the same hushed tone as before. “Cassidy-san took my phone and scanned me for trackers before I got on their plane, but in my bag I have a small lead container that has yours and Genji-san’s necklaces, so we’ll be able to find you.” Hanzo may not have subscribed to any religion, having lost any inkling of faith years ago, but he sent a silent thank you to any greater being listening. Yuki would find him and bring them home, all he had to do was bide his time.

An ache made itself apparent in his chest, refusing to read into it any further than being homesick. Yes, that’s exactly what it was.

“You have my thanks, Chifumi-san. Perhaps when we return, I will speak to your grandfather and Ayaka-sama, and we will discuss implants to ensure this never happens again.” Chifumi nodded, frowning slightly.

“The elders won’t like that, tampering with your bodies.”

“Fuck the elders,” she let out a noise of surprise, a comment like that from Genji would have been normal, but Hanzo? He himself would have laughed in their face had someone suggested, seven months ago, that he would verbally disrespect the elders. “How long did they look for us before telling Shimada-sama to focus his attention elsewhere?”

Chifumi was silent for a moment, as if debating if it was worth it to tell on the elders. “Mitsuharu-san made the suggestion to Heki-san; they took a vote and it was unanimous. Shimada-sama was furious, but the elders forced him to continue on with business as usual.”

Hanzo scowled, knowing quite well that Mitsuharu’s ire was constantly trained on Genji. Heki in particular didn’t care for Hanzo, and being the head elder who was nearing retirement meant the others were scrambling for his position. All Mitsuharu would have to say was that, without the two heirs, they could instil their own blood or cousin to continue on the Shimada-gumi. It had nearly happened twice before; once when Sojiro was in his early teens and in his rebellious phase, and the second when Hanzo began transitioning and Genji was less than ideal of a replacement.

Was… was them being captured not Talon’s agenda? Were the elders involved with foul play? No, they wouldn’t… would they? If they did intend for Hanzo and Genji to never return, due to death or otherwise, what were their plans? Hanzo knew he pretty much did whatever they asked of him, the only glaring exception being his lack of cutting his brother down, but did they truly believe he would disregard them entirely once he took his father’s place?

Now that the elders knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were safe and healthy, what was their next move? Did they have Talon in their pocket? If Cassidy could turn off the power for at least half an hour, what was stopping someone else from doing the same and grabbing the Shimada’s again? Hanzo hated that he couldn’t trust the people who were meant to run the clan while the oyabun was out of commission.

“When I am oyabun, they will be the first to go.” He spat, Chifumi letting out a hum of agreement.

“Well, when the revolution happens, sleep well knowing the staff have been less than pleased with how the elders are handling the situation.” It left Hanzo feeling satisfied to hear the staff sided with him, even after the show of weakness with being drugged and captured.

Ever since he was young, his mother and uncle had drilled into his mind that, as long as the staff was happy, the elders could not touch him. Hanzo had bent over backwards for them, had personally sat in on every interview and made himself available to every request. He ensured the staff had benefits and paid handsomely, gave accommodations to anyone needing them. When he learned the elders despised his existence, he quadrupled his efforts to build a wall around himself. He did everything he could think of, not knowing if his efforts were fruitless or not. Thankfully, his time and energy to gain the staff’s favour had been worthwhile.

Hanzo quietly watched as Chifumi pushed the needle into the hole in his shoulder, slowly refilling the tiny internal cylinder for another year. “Another thing about that lead box,” Chifumi mumbled, Hanzo glancing up to her. “There are gifts from Yoshi-san,” Hanzo was confused. What could his uncle have possibly gotten them that Chifumi could smuggle across the ocean? “He got you a switchblade and Genji-san a butterfly knife.”

He let out a loud and unflattering snort, causing Cassidy and Baptiste to look over, but he merely waved them off, grinning at Chifumi. “Uncle Yoshi would get Genji the flashy knife.” He let out a tiny chuckle as she let out a small giggle, smiling at Hanzo as she withdrew the needle and slid it into a single-use sharps container.

“Can I do a basic checkup?” Chifumi glanced over to the cowboy and she held up the wand, Hanzo following her gaze before they looked at one another again. “He kept going on and on about a time limit, but told me to ‘take my time’ and ‘do things right’.” She muttered, using the wand to cover the hole back up with the flap of skin.

Hanzo let out a hum. “Then do what you must, I am not sure when I will see you again.” Chifumi made a tiny distressed noise but did as she was told, moving to pull out a stethoscope and a small blood pressure monitor.

“Can I also check your legs?” Hanzo nodded, holding out his left arm for her to wrap the cuff around.

Quietly, Chifumi went about her tasks, humming an unfamiliar tune as she documented his results. When she finally made her way down to his legs, she fretted about the damages as she unlatched the prosthetics to examine his stumps. “You should have mentioned it to Cassidy-san that you needed your leg repaired, I would’ve brought Ayaka-san with me.” She whined, gently lifting his leg to inspect the wounds that were nearly three decades old.

“She can fix it once we return. Besides, the less these people know of the Shimada-gumi, the better.” Chifumi didn’t look convinced, but she quickly and quietly finished up, Hanzo reattaching his own prosthetics as she began to clean up.

With only a glance over Hanzo’s shoulder, she quietly pulled out a small cylinder container and slid it into Hanzo’s lap. “As soon as it touches your skin, it’ll turn on.” She whispered, Hanzo nodding as he slid the cylinder into his pants pocket.

“My thanks, Chifumi-san.”

She gently bowed her head to him, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Of course, Young Master.” Both quietly rose to their feet, once again bowing to one another, before Hanzo made his way over to Shrike, Baptiste, and Cassidy.

Baptiste and Shrike were crouched down, seemingly drawing shapes in the dirt. A flight plan, perhaps? Hanzo didn’t particularly care, so long as Chifumi was safe. The cowboy was leaned up against a tree, the unlit cigarillo still seated in the corner of his mouth as he flipped an old aged lighter open and closed, over and over, his narrowed eyes stared off in the distance.

Cassidy was the first to look over, a frown pulling at his lips as he looked between Hanzo and his doctor. “You done?” He asked, pointedly keeping his back to Baptiste as he pushed off from the tree.

Hanzo wanted to say something snarky, but decided that he would play nice. It seemed Cassidy had enough of an emotional roller coaster for one day. “Yes, we may go back to the base now.” He turned his attention to the other two, bowing deeply to both of them as they rose to their feet. “I thank you for bringing my doctor to me. Perhaps if our paths cross once again in the future, I will be able to repay you.” Shrike bowed back to him, Baptiste waved him off.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. We get it, both Shrike and I are medics.” Hanzo blinked in surprise, but nodded. It wasn’t often he heard of two medics travelling together, but he supposed it made enough sense to let it pass and not question them.

“Regardless, you did not have to help Cassidy in bringing her here, so for that, I am in your debt.” It left a bad taste in his mouth to say that; he hated being in debt to anyone, let alone two rogue medics, but there was no honour in leaving them empty handed after risking their lives.

Quietly, Cassidy and Hanzo parted from the healers, Hanzo watching as Shrike bent down to help Chifumi clean up while Baptiste began to scan the woods.

“They’ll be fine.” Cassidy mumbled, pulling Hanzo’s attention. “Ain’t no one gonna notice them ‘til Athena’s back up, and by that time, they’ll be long gone.” The cowboy seemed in a much better mood the further they got from Baptiste, Hanzo wondering if the medic had unintentionally reopened old wounds.

“I am not worried about them leaving unscathed.”

“Then what’cha worried about?”

Hanzo was quiet for a moment, glancing back to Chifumi as he thumbed the cylinder in his pocket. “What the elders will do next now that they know we are alive.”

Chapter Text

Hanzo couldn’t stop fidgeting as he thumbed his necklace, eyes staring intently at the door as he barely paid attention to Cassidy rattling off some tale.

Ever since his visit with Chifumi a week ago, he had expected Yuki to burst through the doors at any given moment and take them home. As the days passed, so did his hope. The base was too well guarded; they would cause too much of a scene to get the brothers out unscathed. There would have to be something terribly wrong with Sojiro, and the elders would have to at least like him, if he expected them to raid the base.

“When’d Chifumi give ya that necklace anyways?” Startled from his thoughts, Hanzo glanced over to find Cassidy lying on his side, propped up on his metal elbow, as his whiskey-brown eyes focused on the little blue lotus pendant.

“Near the beginning of her examination.” He answered easily. “It was my mother’s and was given to me when she passed.” For once, he hadn’t felt the outright need to lie.

It had been Shizuka’s, one she wore everyday and was given as a gift from Yoshi upon finding out she was pregnant with Hanzo. From what he understood, a week before her passing, she had instructed Ayaka to have a small tracker implanted on the necklace. Shizuka then demanded that the necklace, along with her prized golden ribbon, be given to her eldest while her orange scarf would be given to Genji.

The only time Hanzo had ever removed the necklace was to bathe and the one wretched night he and Genji went out. Leave it to Talon to grab them at the most inconvenient time.

Cassidy’s gaze left Hanzo, looking down at the sheets. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean anythin’ by it.”

Hanzo shrugged. “It is in the past, she would not appreciate me moaning over her still.” He wouldn’t mention how he had cried himself to sleep every night for five years after her death, begging and pleading for any god listening to return her. Even now, he recalled whimpering against Genji, childishly wishing that their mother was there to protect them as O’Deorain tried to make the impossible their new reality.

He missed Shizuka dearly, and a little distressed part in the back of his mind mourned the fact that he was forgetting what she looked like, how she sounded.

Enough , he chided to himself, you must focus on surviving, you have mourned enough .

He turned back to Cassidy then, intending to ask why the cowboy was in his cell so early, when a knock came to the door, but there wasn’t a chance to even raise a question when the door unlocked and slid open. Hanzo released a small sigh of relief to see Genji standing there, Doctor Ziegler and a dark skinned man flanking his brother.

Genji’s attention was stolen from the man as he looked into the room, his smile widening before he launched himself at Hanzo, the older one barely able to stand in time before his younger brother crashed into him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “Oh thank fuck,” Genji mumbled into his chest in Japanese, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Hanzo scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but held onto Genji just as tightly. “Hardly,” he started in their native tongue. “I would not dare leave without you.”

For what felt like a century, they just held onto one another, Hanzo worried that if he were to let go, Genji would be gone again. He would rather sell his soul to Overwatch, or whatever this defunct crusade was, than spend another night alone and hoping that his little brother was safe.

“Alright,” Hanzo glanced over Genji’s shoulder to find the man who had entered with him making his way over, the door long since shut behind him. “We got a couple things to go over, then me and Cassidy will leave ya to your own devices.”

Sharply and near violently, Hanzo jerked away from Genji to stare at Cassidy, daring the cowboy to lie to him.

But Cassidy simply nodded in agreement. “Got most of the kinks ironed out, Winston wanted y’all to have some time before we go in the meetin’.”

“I can’t negotiate looking like a drowned rat.” Genji whined, Hanzo rolling his eyes as most of the tension that coiled his body up like a snake left him, Cassidy letting out a snort.

He turned back to his younger brother, levelling him an unamused look as a small smirk was sent back. “Implying you do not normally look like one?” Genji let out a loud laugh, bumping shoulders with Hanzo before taking a seat on his bed.

“Fuck off.” Genji said with a teasing tone, both brothers sharing an amused look.

As the room fell silent, Hanzo having too many important things to say that Cassidy and Lúcio could not know, Hanzo began to plan how to give Genji his own necklace and the butterfly knife. Their sleight of hand would be more than enough to pass the physical items, no matter how rusty they both were, but how would he go about explaining what Chifumi had told him? The two men in Overwatch couldn’t know how unstable of a hold the brothers had on the clan, they couldn’t know how ready the elders were to replace them.

No, if they knew that, then there would be no need to have any conversations revolving around negotiations. They both needed to pretend that the elders thought of them as more than pawns in a game of chess.

“A’ight, Luc, you wanna go get makeup and wardrobe?” Hanzo sharply looked over to Cassidy, finding the cowboy having stood up and was now leaning against the wall.

“Sure thing!” Hanzo was bewildered as he watched Lúcio head off back to the door, his eyes widening slightly as he saw their only means of escape left wide open.

He turned and looked back to Cassidy, finding the man smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest. “We ain’t all assholes here.” He teased, Hanzo letting out a scoff before glancing away. He refused to let the cowboy fluster him. “Anyways, we’re gonna bring in some groomin’ shit and a bunch of clothes about yer sizes, look how ya like, we don’t care none. Me and Lúcio’ll be waitin’ out in the hall, knock on the door when yer ready to go.”

They were being left alone? No one to watch as they quietly plotted their escape? It was too good to be true.

Again, he looked to Cassidy, staring into his eyes with a slight glare. “Do not lie to our faces, why would Overwatch—” Genji echoed the name in confusion behind him, “—allow for two of their highly valuable bargaining chips to be alone without supervision?”

The cowboy was silent for a moment, his posture tensing up as he uncrossed his arms, thumbs finding their spot in his belt loops at his hips instead. “I ain’t lyin’, I’m the one that got y’all this moment of privacy.” Hanzo blinked, surprised to hear such a thing. He knew he had gained Cassidy’s favour, and in turn Cassidy had gained his; a fragile camaraderie keeping them civil despite being on two opposing sides. It left him trying to figure out Cassidy’s angle. “Winston was content t’let ya both show up like that,” he gestured to the brothers, “but I’ve been in the same situation. You’d feel like we gave ya no dignity, that we’re callin’ the shots, that we’re above ya. Hard t’negotiate when we ain’t on equal footin’.”

Hanzo stared at Cassidy, trying to decipher what same situation Cassidy had apparently been in, when Genji finally broke the silence by speaking directly to Hanzo in Japanese. “What’d you do to get a white knight?”

He sharply turned, but Genji was smart enough to have stood and moved away, a shit eating grin on his face. “It is rude to speak a language a guest does not understand.” He would scold Genji properly once they were left alone, but his little brother continued to just grin.

“Okay, I’ll just repeat myself.”

Thankfully, before Genji could go through with his plan, Lúcio reappeared pushing a rolling portable wardrobe with one hand and carrying a decently sized makeup bag in the other. “Anything with a sharp or pointy edge was marked down and recorded, so no trying to slip anything.” The wardrobe was left in the centre of the room while the makeup bag was held out to Genji, the youngest Shimada taking the bag eagerly.

“We’ll be waitin’ outside, we’ll brief ya when yer ready.” Hanzo looked to Cassidy again, giving a small nod.

The brothers watched in silence as Cassidy and Lúcio made their way out of the room, the door closing and the audible lock clicking into place.

After a moment with both Shimada’s just waiting and listening, Hanzo let out a small sigh before jerking his head towards the bathroom, Genji letting out a hum as he led the way.

The makeup bag was set down on the counter as Genji moved to sit down on the toilet lid, rubbing a hand down his face. “God, I miss my phone.” Hanzo snorted, relaxing further as he toed the door shut behind him.

“Of course you do,” he teased, moving to the counter and began unzipping the bag. 

Hanzo stared down at the tools he had to work with, humming in displeasure to himself when he saw the barber scissors indeed marked with a tag, the razor having a number and the amount of blades it had. Besides the obvious choice of weapons in the bag, a second makeup case was within the first, Hanzo pleased to see they had matched the foundation damn near perfectly to his skin tone, though he was inclined to just use the eyeliner.

With the bag open, Genji rose again to peek inside over Hanzo’s shoulder. He let out another hum, reaching over to grab the scissors. “Want me to cut your hair?”

“Why else would I want you in here while I got ready?” Hanzo teased, Genji letting out a snort as he swiped up the scissors.

“I will ask for clippers and shave your head, eyebrows and all.”

Hanzo scowled at him, suddenly drawing away. “If you so much as look at my eyebrows wrong, I will cut you down.”

Genji let out a sharp laugh, gesturing to the closed toilet lid. “Sit down, I didn’t get this degree for nothing.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, doing as he was told. “No, you got it so the elders could not say you were stupid and uneducated,” though perhaps the former still applies , he thought, withholding the remark as Genji grinned.

“It worked, plus they left me alone for two years while I was gone, and you like how I cut your hair, so don’t give me that.” Hanzo gave a good natured hum, setting his hands on his thighs as he waited for Genji to begin. “Want the undercut again?” He let out another hum, thinking over his options.

The undercut was a staple of his early twenties, a compromise that he barely won against the elders. If he went back to that style, it would hide most of the grey at his temples, but not any of the strands that hid themselves within his inky black hair. He was getting older anyways, his father’s genetics showing it sooner than he would have liked. At least he hadn’t started to get grey hairs in his late twenties-early thirties like Genji had, his only showing up the past couple years, though that was easy enough to hide away with bleach and dye.

He could also cut his hair short like it had been before Talon, the same style he had for multiple years once he grew out the sides. Slick it back and appear like the proper scion he was meant to be. But he was tired of that look, and he certainly didn’t want to keep it this long, too close to what his teen years had looked like.

“Shoulder length,” Hanzo decided, “and since we do not have dye, just shorten the hair at my temples.” Genji let out a hum, seemingly thinking over what he would do, before moving into motion.

“I know you haven’t practised for six-ish months, but can you cut mine after? Like, you literally can’t fuck it up, I want it short and messy.” Genji asked, beginning to cut his hair.

Learning how to cut hair secondhand from someone who had no patience or interest in teaching had made the experience nearly akin to pulling teeth, but Genji nearly always got what he wanted in the end. “I will need a refresher, but of course.”

Genji let out another hum, both falling into comfortable silence with only the distant buzz of the heater in the main room and the snip of scissors making any noise.

It gave Hanzo time to think, to try and piece together everything he had just learned. Cassidy had ensured that they could make themselves their level of presentable, had claimed that he wanted to uphold their dignity. It stumped him, truly. It was almost completely opposite to what Akande had done; stripping them of their clothing, throwing them in a cell, not caring if they were comfortable with O’Deorain poking at them.

One could argue they were still in a cell and were forced to wear what little they were given, but Akande’s cells weren’t built for comfort and the hospital gowns only meant to keep them from walking around nude.

“What do you think they’ll ask for?” Genji asked after having cut away at most of the length in the back, moving to the side to trim the hair at his temple.

“Money, most likely.” Hanzo guessed, these people knew full well who the brothers were and what family they came from. “An alliance seems likely as well, maybe some of our men.”

Genji moved to stand before him, moving to trim the front up. “Can you even agree to their demands?” He asked quietly, almost under his breath.

“No, but they do not need to know that.” Undoubtedly the elders would scold him later, laughing at Overwatch when they ask for their money and alliance, telling them the heir couldn’t meet their demands as he wasn’t the oyabun.

What Overwatch didn’t know wouldn’t kill them.

“Do you want me to hack off the cowlick?” As if to highlight his question, said cowlick apparently decided that was the cue as it arched up and to the side of his face.

Hanzo let out a huff, glaring at the piece of hair. “Leave it, it gets worse every time you cut it.”

“Just trim it down then?”

“Why not? It cannot look worse than it already does.”

Genji let out a chuckle but did as he was told, finishing up as he stood back. “I can thin it when we get home.” Hanzo nodded, standing and heading to the mirror to look.

He ran his hands through his hair, turning his head this way and that. He gave a hum of appreciation as he bunched up his hair, holding it at the crown of his head. The stupid piece in the front easily wormed it’s way out of his grasp to fall at the side of his face. “You cut that piece too short.” He glanced over to his brother, finding Genji smirking as he took his turn to sit on the toilet lid. “You…” Hanzo growled before letting out a sigh of defeat. There was no point arguing, not when he knew Genji would shoot back a it’s just hair, anija while sending that shit eating grin his way.

He moved over to cut Genji’s hair, keeping quiet for only a moment before speaking low and quiet in Japanese. “I met with Chifumi-san,” he started, able to see Genji tense but remained still otherwise.

“How?” He asked back in Japanese.

“I told Cassidy that I needed to see my doctor, he asked for a phone number and I gave him Yuki-san’s emergency line. I do not know how much happened between then and seeing her, but she refilled the gauge and gave us gifts from both Uncle and Yuki-san.”

“Uncle Yoshi knew about Chifumi meeting you?” Hanzo let out a hum. “Do the elders know then? Dad?”

“As far as I know, outside of those three, only Natsu-san for sure, but I suspect Ayaka-sama and the elders know as well.”

Genji let out a quiet chuckle, tipping his head back slightly. “Of course Ayaka knows, she knows everything .”

They shared a laugh, Hanzo falling silent as he moved to stand in front of Genji to cut his bangs. “I...” he paused.

Was it smart to tell Genji his suspicions of the elders? That he thought there was foul play in their abduction? Genji’s relationship with anyone besides Hanzo, Sojiro, and his large circle of friends was already strenuous. Understandably so, after having been told that his brother was meant to kill him and he was too stupid to accomplish anything in life; this would just be another reminder of everything Genji hated about he clan.

“The elders had a hand in it, didn’t they?” Genji asked, voice quiet as he looked up at Hanzo.

He met his brother’s gaze, unwilling to show fear, unwilling to show Genji how scared he truly was. He would not let anyone hurt Genji; not this defunct Overwatch team, not Akande, not Talon, and not the elders. Never the elders. “Chifumi-san informed me that the elders held a vote and forced Father to resume business not long after we were taken. It,” Hanzo paused, licking his lips nervously as he continued to cut his brother’s hair. “It would be convenient for them to remove both of us from the equation, seeing as neither of us are what they want.”

A brief flash of fiery anger graced Genji for only a moment before it was gone, his temper held at bay for now. “What did Yuki and Uncle Yoshi get us?” He asked instead, Hanzo able to hear him biting back a growl.

“Our necklaces for both of us and Uncle got us blades.” Genji’s head shot up, Hanzo sharply raising his hand up, holding the scissors away. “Do not move.” He hissed, Genji not looking one bit apologetic as he stared with wide eyes up at his brother.

“How the fuck did you smuggle blades into this place without Cassidy finding them?”

“This bathroom is the only place Cassidy will not enter, if he must relieve himself, he leaves to do so.” Hanzo set the scissors to the side and moved over to the sink, crouching down to open the cupboard below. “After watching my behaviour, they have allowed me to clean my own living spaces, which means that, at any given time, only I am ever in my bathroom.” He moved one of the towels in the back aside, pulling out the little lead cylinder.

Genji let out a small huff, Hanzo turning to find him still sitting on the toilet, staring at Hanzo in disbelief. “It’s so tiring watching how fucking smart you are.”

Hanzo preened ever so slightly, smirking and rising to his feet as he walked back to his brother. “Father taught us to use every resource possible if we were captured, but Uncle taught us how to use people.” Genji nodded in agreement.

“You endear yourself to someone, give them a reason to help or look the other way.” Hanzo nodded, though for some reason, he felt that Cassidy was doing the same.

He popped the lid off, dumping the contents into the palm of his hand. Genji instantly went for the necklace, the green pendant carved into the shape of a sunflower.

Unlike Hanzo’s necklace, which had been his mother’s, Genji’s had been commissioned by Yoshi so they were a matching set. Hanzo had only learned there were trackers in their necklaces when Sojiro had commanded he go get his brother from a festival and had complained that he would never find Genji in the crowd. Hanzo was promptly led by the Head of Security, Kure Iwao, to one of their security rooms, and was shocked to find that nearly everyone on the estate was being tracked. He understood, then, that escaping would be nearly impossible, especially when he saw several trackers in both of the brother’s rooms greyed out, lying dormant until needed.

Hanzo’s gut twisted at the memory, remembering how Iwao’s face had grown pale as he realised the young heir knew their secret.

Genji held the necklace up at eye level, smiling softly before swiftly opening the latch and putting it around his neck. “It was a mistake taking them off.” Genji murmured, staring down at the pendant against his chest.

Hanzo hummed in agreement, rubbing his own pendant under his shirt. “I thought we would be safe.” He spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. He had spent hours combing both he and Genji’s outfits, ensuring they weren’t bugged. Just one night away from the clan’s eyes, only one, was all he wanted.

“We should have been.” Genji agreed, leaving the one burning question unsaid; regardless of how many times either brother dismissed their guards, unwavering as they followed the brothers anyways, where had they been that night?

The elders , Hanzo quietly supplied, wishing he had any evidence against this claim. From the moment he was born, he was told to trust them. Ever the dutiful son, he obeyed. Even now, as the list of who could have set them up grew shorter by the minute, Hanzo naïvely wanted to believe they would not hurt him.

“Shall I continue?” Hanzo asked, setting the blades in Genji’s outstretched hand as they moved back to the toilet. “The butterfly knife is yours.” With a flair and flick of the wrist, the blade was revealed, Genji’s eyes lighting up.

The blade was a shiny dark grey, Hanzo able to see the dragon carved into the metal. The handle was a marbled green and black, two small silver pearls cut in half and placed at the end of the handle on both sides. It was a gorgeous blade, Hanzo couldn’t deny that, but Hanzo’s switchblade felt regal.

The blade on his was matte black, a dragon also carved into the blade. Like Genji’s, his handle was marbled, but gold and black in colour. A lapis lazuli was placed on either side of his handle, carved and shaped into a diamond that was flush with the handle.

“They are not to be used unless we absolutely need them.” Hanzo stressed, continuing to cut Genji’s hair, his little brother letting out a snort. “I am serious, we need these people to like us if we are to escape.”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to tell me over and over.”

Hanzo, wanting to say more but knowing it would go in one ear and out the other, continued on in silence until finally the bleached tips were cut away and Genji had the short bedhead look he wanted. All the while, listening to Genji flick the butterfly knife open and closed, twirling it in between his fingers. “Done.”

Genji was instantly up and heading to the mirror, grinning widely as he leaned against the counter. “Perfect!” He beamed, rotating his head to look at the different angles in the mirror.

Hanzo preened slightly at the indirect compliment, moving to the makeup bag to fish out the black nail polish he had spied earlier. “You can dye it again once we go home.” Genji nodded in agreement, turning to glance at the makeup bag.

Genji was by his side in an instant, shoving his hand in the grab the neon green nail polish with his grin widening once Hanzo withdrew. “It was so petty asking for these, but so rewarding to see them bend to please us.”

“We hold all the cards,” Hanzo agreed, moving to sit on the toilet as he opened the little bottle.

He hadn’t really expected Cassidy’s seemingly random question to have ever come to anything. If ya could, what would ya normally be wearin’? He had thought it was useless fishing, but now he was glad he had been truthful.

With how it sounded, he pieced together that Lúcio had directly asked Genji while Cassidy had danced around the subject. Why Cassidy did it this way, he didn’t know, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Quietly, both got to work, Genji sitting on the floor while Hanzo sat on the closed toilet lid. It reminded him of when they were younger, both brothers meditating in the garden as instructed by Master Zenyatta. Hanzo had mentioned at some point earlier in the day how he wished he could paint his nails again, Genji latching onto that comment like a shark to blood.

The next day he had dragged his older brother into Hanzo’s bathroom, sat him down on the toilet, and asked what colour he wanted and which colour Genji should use. A stream of tears and several yelling matches later, Genji ended up with neon pink nails and Hanzo with black. For the next year and a half, Genji’s nails were always painted and they were always pink, silently paving the way for Hanzo to explore at his own pace. He quite liked dark blue or black personally, sometimes gold if he wore his mother’s ribbon.

Hanzo’s heart ached again, forcing his mind elsewhere as he finished off putting the polish on. Once he was home and alone, he could dwell on the bittersweet memories all he wanted, but right now, he needed his mind to be sharp. He would be bargaining for he and Genji’s way out, he needed to be able to make false promises that sounded believable.

He paused, would lying even work? Surely they would want their goodies before releasing the brothers, and if the elders denied them, both would be stuck here longer than they wanted. Maybe the safer bet was to pick the least involved deal, something he could easily control and do himself. Unless this ‘Winston’ was fine with only a monetary deal, Hanzo would be hard pressed to find any other solutions.

Once their nails were dry, both took their turn at the mirror applying their own makeup; Hanzo with black eyeliner around his eyes and Genji, ever dramatic, went for a smokey eye look. “It is a meeting, you are not going to a club.”

Genji let out a snort as he began to apply the mascara. “Just because I’m putting in an effort doesn’t mean I’m looking to impress anyone.” Hanzo’s eyes met Genji’s reflected in the mirror, a grin pulling at his brother’s lips. “Doesn’t hurt trying the seduction method if things fall through.” Hanzo rolled his eyes but remained silent, seeing no point in fighting with Genji.

Once both were done, they made their way out into the mainroom, their blades hidden under the sink again in case Lúcio or Cassidy entered or happened to be watching from the one-way mirror.

Genji went straight for the wardrobe, unzipping the fabric flap and instantly began sorting through the clothing. “Ugh, I think they pulled together whatever they could find, half of this shit has their logo on it.” Hanzo came up beside him, peering over his shoulder to find that Genji was right. Most of the shirts were black or white, the centre of the chest holding the black and orange insignia. The chests that were free of the logo were instead found on the shoulders or the back of the neck, causing the brothers to roll their eyes.

“Arrogant.” Hanzo mumbled, Genji humming in agreement.

Suddenly, Genji turned and faced the one-way mirror. “Hey,” he started in English, “do you have anything that isn’t covered in your propaganda?” Hanzo rolled his eyes, beginning to card through the clothing himself.

“ Sorry sugar, ain’t got much kickin’ ‘round here in yer sizes .” Cassidy said through the intercom, Genji letting out a dramatic sigh.

“ Awe, don’t be like that, G-man ,” Lúcio piped up, Hanzo glancing to Genji with a raised eyebrow. “ We’ll go out shopping once this blows over .”

“‘G-man’?” Hanzo asked under his breath, watching as his little brother’s cheeks turned pink.

“Just a nickname.” Genji mumbled back in Japanese, blindly reaching for a shirt and pair of pants, and vanishing away into the bathroom.

Hanzo stood there for a moment, staring at the door between them, before rolling his eyes fondly and returning to looking through the clothing. ‘Not trying to impress anyone’ my ass , Hanzo thought, unable to force down the small smile.

Finally, after fifteen minutes, Genji came back out, looking much more presentable in the white long sleeve compression shirt with a tall neck and the black track pants with an ugly orange stripe up either side of the legs.

Hanzo gave Genji an approving nod before he grabbed his own shirt and pants, slipping into the bathroom. His own outfit was a similar compression shirt, though his was a black tank top with a similar tall neck. The dark grey sweatpants he picked out were baggy enough he could keep the switchblade safely hidden, but still form fitting enough to show off his muscles.

Ever since Overwatch had taken over the custody of the brothers, Hanzo had been putting more effort into building up any lost or weakened muscles. Having regular and decent meals, as well as someone to work out with, had been a small blessing, though he had caught Cassidy cheating through some of the sets that even made Hanzo winded. He briefly smiled at the memory, remembering how Cassidy had quietly lowered one knee to the ground while they were doing a body saw plank. The rest of Cassidy’s visit was spent teasing, Hanzo seeing just how far he could push before the cowboy snapped. But, Cassidy had remained calm, gracefully took the ribbing and joked back about his own laziness.

Had anyone ribbed Hanzo like he had done to Cassidy, he was sure that person would no longer be standing. It interested him, nonetheless, to see this rough-around-the-edges man grin and bear Hanzo’s need to cause a scene.

Hanzo checked himself over in the mirror, nodding and smirking when he saw how well his tattooed arm stood out. He hoped that it would work as an intimidation tactic like it had with the more ‘rowdy’ business partners the clan had. He had gone with Sojiro enough times to different meetings to know that different tactics worked for different people. Sometimes, all they needed to see the gun on Sojiro’s person, sometimes, they needed to see the angry red dragon crawling down his arm. Some people just needed to see his face.

Crouching down, Hanzo opened the cupboard below the sink and pulled out the switchblade, pleased to see the butterfly knife was gone. When he reentered the room, Lúcio and Cassidy had entered and stood watching Genji as he picked out shoes and accessories.

“I told you you should’ve gotten at least one kimono, Hanzo’s far more comfortable in them than most other clothing.”

Lúcio let out a huff. “I tired getting one, Winston wouldn’t let my request go through.”

“Could’ve ordered one online.” Genji argued, giving an uninterested shrug.

“And mail it where? We’re not exactly meant to be here.”

“Ever heard of a PO box?” Cassidy teased, Lúcio sighing while Genji let out a chuckle.

“Stop bickering like children.” Hanzo scolded, stopping them before it continued.

At least Lúcio had the decency to look embarrassed, Cassidy smirking while Genji just grinned. “You were taking your sweet ass time, I thought you were cutting up your clothing.” The younger Shimada teased, Hanzo rolling his eyes.

“As if.” He muttered, though it wouldn’t have been the first time.

Sensing the shift in mood, Cassidy cleared his throat. “So, basically what’s gonna go down is that Winston’s gonna want a compromise.” Hanzo let out a hum as he sat down on the bed, gently rubbing at his knee as Cassidy continued. “He’s worried ‘bout the Shimada clan retaliatin’ for holdin’ both of ya.”

“What if we pinky promise not to?” Genji teased, plopping down ungracefully beside his brother.

Cassidy let out a snort. “He’d probably believe ya, but you gotta convince their little council that you’ll hold up yer end of the deal when we let ya out.”

Hanzo reached for the hair elastic, bunching up his hair and tying it up. He pointedly ignored the cowlick as it slid from his grasp to rest in front and to the side of his face. “And who must we convince?” Hanzo asked, trying to keep his mind as open as possible. If any of the people on this council knew of the Shimada-gumi, their task would be infinitely harder. As it was, they weren’t in good standings with anyone but Cassidy and Lúcio, and that was towards their own keepers, so he was hard pressed to count it.

Cassidy tipped his head down, hat hiding his eyes for a moment before looking back up to the scion. “Me and Lúcio ain’t allowed to be on the council, we’re friends with ya after all.” Hanzo remained stoic, internally swearing up a blue streak. He had hoped that, with honeyed words, he and Genji could have convinced Lúcio and Cassidy, and through them, the others.

Though he was confident in himself that he wouldn’t need to say much for Cassidy to agree.

“Of course, Winston’s gonna be there,” Lúcio started, “same with Lena, Mei, and Angela.”

Genji let out a snort. “May as well ship us off to super max then, she won’t agree to anything we say.” Hanzo nodded in agreement.

“She’s professional enough to put her feelin’s aside.” Cassidy objected, thumbs hooking into the belt loops on his hips. “There’s also Torb and Rein ya have to convince.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling himself begin to tense. “That is all old blood,” he managed to catch the small flinch from Cassidy. “All those people were in Overwatch before the Petras Act.” How were they to convince six people who had heard of the Shimada’s doings for the past several decades that they wouldn’t retaliate if let free? It was like they were asking a fish to climb a tree.

Lúcio nodded, nervously glancing down. “Yeah, you’re not wrong, that’s why we got two other joining the council; Reaper and 76.” Genji was groaning beside Hanzo before Lúcio was even done speaking, falling back to lay flat on the bed.

“Great, the guy I killed is gonna judge me. Wonderful, great. I can’t wait for us to be executed.”

Hanzo jerked his head around, mouth slightly hanging open in shock as he stared down at his little brother. “You did what ?!”

Reading the situation correctly, Genji rolled away as fast as he could, standing on the opposite side of the bed. “I was taunting him,” he spoke quietly in rapid fire Japanese, “and when I was looking for a weapon, I found two guns.

“They lied to me, saying you were already on your way back home, and I thought we would’ve made it out, so I shot him in the face.” Genji paused, glancing down and away. “I… I’m not sure how he lived, though. I know he was dead when he hit the floor.” Hanzo had thought it was a metaphor, that Genji had only knocked out Reaper and had caused no harm.

Quietly, Hanzo brewed, angry that his little brother had already damaged their last and only way out of this mess. Genji lacked any tiny bit of foresight, and had he paid attention to any of Sojiro or Yoshi’s teachings, he would have known better, he would have known to use their enemy up completely before disregarding their life.

For one very brief and horrible moment, he understood the elders when they commanded him to strike Genji down.

Hanzo wanted to throw up when he realised what had just crossed his mind.

Hands clenched into fists, starving off the need to physically break something as he turned his head towards Cassidy, staring in his general direction without actually looking at the cowboy. “Let us go, stalling will do us no favours.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Cassidy and Lúcio share a look before the latter made his way over Genji, Cassidy coming up beside Hanzo.

Lúcio and Genji made their way out first, Hanzo waiting for Cassidy to move them along. He glanced up at the cowboy when he made no motions to move, finding whiskey-brown eyes staring at him. “What?” Hanzo growled out, tensing up.

“I know ya got some sort of knife on ya.” Hanzo went stock still, able to feel a pinprick of panic beginning to worm its way inside his head. “I ain’t gonna frisk ya for it, but I ask ya don’t stab anyone if things don’t go yer way today.” First Genji, and now his blade, could nothing go right in the past five minutes?

“How did you know?” He whispered back. Hanzo thought he had been so careful and clever, had hidden the lead container from any untrusting eyes. If Cassidy knew, how many others? Was Genji in danger now? If he left this room, would his little brother be lying on the floor, executed for something Hanzo had done?

A hand gently gripped his shoulder, pulling Hanzo from his spirling mind to find Cassidy giving him a worried look. “I didn’t tell no one, I promise ya that much.” His voice was quiet and calm, but Hanzo didn’t know how he knew. Maybe when they came in from his checkup, there was some kind of bio scan and it found the cylinder— “Athena’s only supposed to record audio in this room, but other than bathrooms and a few select other rooms, she’s got eyes everywhere.” Hanzo paused, a new burst of anger burning up inside him.

The fucking AI had caught him.

“How do I know she will not tell someone?” He spat, pulling away from Cassidy’s grip.

“‘Cuz both me an’ Athena would be in deep shit; she told me but I kept it a secret, trust me when I say that’s steppin’ far outta line.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes, keeping away from Cassidy. “Why would she only tell you then?”

“I asked her to.” Cassidy shrugged.

With a sigh, Hanzo gave up, looking down at his feet. “Lead the way.” He muttered.

The cowboy hesitated, slightly rocking on his feet. “Promise me ya won’t use the knife.” Hanzo wanted to laugh, wanted to ask if they should lock their pinky fingers together and shake on it as well, but he withheld his irritated comment. Taking his anger out on someone who had done nothing but try and ease his imprisonment as much as possible felt wrong, especially since it was Cassidy. The dumb cowboy wore his heart too vividly on his sleeve; how he survived in Blackwatch, Hanzo would never know.

“I will only use it should one of your people attack me.” Cassidy gave pause, almost like he wanted to give a retort, but instead he just gave a brief nod before leading the heir out of the room.

Hanzo unknowingly released a small breath he had been holding in as they exited, relieved that his foolish little brother’s body or blood wasn’t lining the halls.

The walk wasn’t entirely long, Hanzo instantly recognizing their surroundings as they came to the medical facility proper. The brunette he had subdued on their botched escape attempt was sitting behind the counter, flipping through an old age paperback book until they drew closer.

She smiled and nodded her head to the cowboy, but her kind, freckled face turned stone cold as she stared at Hanzo, going back to reading her novel.

Hanzo understood and accepted her ire, he was sure he would be glaring just as much as her if their roles were reversed. He had, after all, put her in a choke hold and winded her enough that she couldn’t follow. His pride would be wounded as well if he let a prisoner get the best of him.

Further, Cassidy led Hanzo, keeping the Shimada close to his side as they made twists and turns, so far a different path than the one Cassidy had led him through before to see Chifumi. At one point, the cowboy let out a small ‘shit’ before he took his metal arm and swiftly but gently gripped Hanzo’s bicep, his steps holding more purpose as he raised his head high.

Ahead of them was a small cluster of people, untrusting eyes turning and watching. One man’s cold expression turned gloating as he grinned widely at Cassidy. “He’s not so big and scary under your thumb, Cassidy!” The man said in Spanish, Hanzo holding in the need to snap something unflattering back.

“Shut the fuck up, Luis.” Cassidy muttered back in Spanish, Luis letting out a laugh before he turned back to his group and continued chatting away.

Once they turned the corner, Cassidy instantly dropped his hold, mumbling a quiet apology, Hanzo answered in kind with a shrug. He understood that appearances were important to keep up, that these people likely took one look at Cassidy’s dossier and placed him in a little box. One step outside that box, and all hell would descend upon the cowboy.

In a way, Hanzo understood, he stood in his own box after all, but he would never openly empathise.

Finally, they came to a stop down a much warmer looking hallway, doors with nameplates dressed up with stickers and wreaths, some of them painted while others looked like they had been taken from somewhere else in the world entirely.

Genji and Lúcio were outside a bright blue door, the plate reading Meeting Room . His little brother was leaning up against the wall, hands behind his back as he chatted away with Lúcio, the DJ sitting on the ground. “Any problems?” Cassidy asked as they drew closer, Lúcio standing and Genji pushing himself away from the wall.

“Nah, went down a different corridor when I saw Luis and his little brigade.” Cassidy nodded, turning his attention back to Hanzo.

Their eyes met briefly, Cassidy suddenly tipping his head down to shield his face with his hat. “Sorry I’m only mentionin’ it now, but we gotta put ya in cuffs.”

Hanzo merely rolled his eyes, willingly bringing his hands up in front of him. “If you must.” He sighed, hearing Genji let out a snort behind him.

Once their cuffs were on, Hanzo gave an experimental tug and noticed that if he tried hard enough, he could slip his hands out easily. He didn’t mention this and Cassidy almost looked relaxed when he remained silent.

Both turned, facing Lúcio and Genji, and Cassidy let out a groan. “Luc, yer supposed t’have his hands in front of him, gives ‘em more dignity in these types of situations.”

Hanzo let out a snort, Genji chuckling as Lúcio pressed a hand to his forehead. “How was I supposed to know? It ain’t like I go around making arrests all day!”

Hanzo watched as Genji took a few steps away from Lúcio, grinning at both Overwatch men. “Don’t worry, I can fix it.” Both brothers smirked as the youngest Shimada suddenly jumped, bringing his knees up to his chest, and looped his cuffs under him, landing neatly with his hands out in front of him.

Cassidy and Lúcio just stared at Genji for a moment, Hanzo feeling as smug as his little brother looked. As if handcuffs would keep either of them restrained, but if it made things go more smoothly, then they would quietly play along.

Once they found themselves again, Lúcio shook his head and knocked once, the door sliding open with a hiss. The DJ went in first, followed by Genji, then Hanzo, and then with Cassidy bringing up the rear.

Inside were a group of people of varying shapes and sizes, though sharply, Hanzo’s attention was drawn directly and singularly to the giant ass gorilla sitting at the head of the table. Ahead of him, he heard Genji let out a sharp gasp as he planted his feet to the spot, Hanzo nearly running into his little brother as he came to an abrupt stop.

Gently, Hanzo brought his hands up to place on Genji’s shoulder, leaning in to mumble quiet words into his ear, masking his own emotions as best he could. “Be kind,” he spoke in Japanese, just managing to keep his emotions at bay. “This is our only way out.”

Genji sharply nodded at his words, Hanzo thankful when Cassidy gently pushed and led them to two plush leather chairs that sat at the opposite end of the long meeting table.

As he sat, he glanced back to find Lúcio and Cassidy moving to stand against the wall behind him. Hanzo was sure it was more for the group in front of the Shimada’s than the brothers themselves. Both had already displayed their cooperation, Cassidy and Lúcio had nothing to fear so long as Hanzo and Genji weren’t forced to physically defend themselves.

At the head of the table, the ape gave a shy dip of his head, Hanzo subconsciously returning the gesture, though much more firm and tight, while Genji lifted one hand from the table just enough to give a brief two fingered wave. “Greetings, Hanzo-sama and Genji-sama.”

Instantly, Genji let out a chortle, grinning easily as he leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Hanzo would have been surprised at the quick turn around if it hadn’t been for how ridiculous the whole situation was. “Call me that again and my hair’ll turn white.” Genji teased, Hanzo rolling his eyes.

“For simplicity’s sake,” Hanzo started, sending his little brother a brief glare for being so informal. “While in this room, you may call us by our first names with no honorifics.”

The gorilla seemed to hesitate, glancing to the short haired brunette seated beside him. Vaguely, Hanzo recognized her from the old Overwatch propaganda he had seen while travelling abroad, knowing her as the airpilot named Tracer. He didn’t know a first or last name, but at the time he hadn’t cared. Overwatch wasn’t allowed in Japan, so he never took the time to learn.

Blackwatch on the other hand, their illegal raids were near monthly. The Shimada-gumi needed some sort of edge if they ever wished to keep ahead, ensuring their empire wasn’t toppled by some mangy mutts.

Tracer simply gave the ape a nod, the gesture returned before the ape turned his attention back to the brothers, though his eyes never quite met Hanzo’s. Poor etiquette , he mused, beginning to wonder if the creature had ever commanded a singular person before.

“Greetings Hanzo and Genji,” beside him, Genji clenched his hands into fists, the only outward tell that he was cringing. Hanzo half wished Yuki was here in their stead so he was spared any secondhand embarrassment. “I’m Winston, the commander of the new Overwatch.” Hanzo gave a clipped nod. Winston, the Winston he had heard Cassidy prattle on about for days now, meekly turned and gestured to the people around him and introduced them all. Torbjörn Lindholm. Reinhardt Wilhelm. Doctor Mei-Ling Zhou. Lena ‘Tracer’ Oxton. Doctor Angela ‘Mercy’ Ziegler. Soldier: 76. Reaper.

It rubbed Hanzo the wrong way, not knowing the two masked men, and Genji seemed to be one step away from saying something himself, when Lena spoke up, her brown eyes easily meeting his own as she took control of the room. “Alright, what we’re gonna do is list off some things that we need from you and draft up some contracts while we’re at it.” Hanzo nodded along, knowing full well that a signed piece of paper meant nothing to the elders, regardless of whose signatures were present. If they didn’t want something, they simply would ignore it, if they did want something, they would take it by force if they had to.

At once, Doctor Ziegler spoke up, Hanzo barely directing his attention to her. “If I’m to run a medical facility, I need newer equipment and resources.” Of course she did, and instead of allocating funds from other sources, he assumed they had cut her budget since she was the Angela Ziegler.

Unfortunately for her, Hanzo didn’t care about her plight, not after the stunt she pulled by purchasing his private medical files off some black market.

He narrowed his eyes at her, one twitch of his eyebrow away from glaring. “I have read up on what your staff does, I highly doubt you need state of the art technology.” The doctor opened her mouth to argue but Hanzo quickly continued on. “You have managed this long with your current equipment, you shall last a few more years until this little rebellion burns out.”

Beside him, Genji muttered under his breath in Japanese. “So much for playing nice.”

Hanzo ignored him, looking around the table. “Next.” He demanded, remaining sitting ramrod straight with an aloof expression. The heir must be perfect when representing his family, and he would not fail Sojiro now.

The short man, Torbjörn, spoke up next. “I’m in charge of fixin’ people’s armour and mech suits, newer tools would help move production along.”

“What tools do you use now?”

“Same ones I used during the Null Sector uprising in King’s Row.”

“They still work?”

“Sure, but—”

“If they still work, they do not need to be replaced.” Hanzo watched as the little man went red in the face, a deep and murderous scowl pulling on his lips as he glared daggers at the eldest brother. “Next.”

A small glance to his side found Genji leaning far back in his chair, smirking as he looked at his nails. Normally, Genji wasn’t privy to these types of meetings, the elders or their father often having the youngest wait outside in the hall. The elders thought that, because of how fully he indulged his playboy lifestyle, he would spill every Shimada secret. Sojiro, on the other hand, had admitted to Hanzo he wanted to shield his youngest from the cruelties of yakuza men as much as possible.

Hanzo thought both his father and the elders were fools; unfortunately, Genji was much smarter than he usually let on.

Next, the mousy scientist spoke up, Doctor Zhou seemingly unsure of what she wanted to say. “I brought nine years worth of data to sort through. With the current technology we have on base, it could take me upwards of five years to sort and document all of it.”

He waved her off, looking away from her nervous face. “Five years is not forever, I suggest prioritising the most important information first.”

“But—”

“Next.”

The room was silent for a moment, Hanzo sweeping his gaze around the table. Had these people finally come to their senses? Had they finally learned that they would gain nothing Hanzo didn’t wish to give them? Yes, he wanted out of this personal hell as soon as possible, but unless there was something he could handle without the elders ever knowing, he could twist the knife a little more, let them know he held the cards.

The giant of a man they had encountered with 76 the day of their failed escape rose up, his hands resting on the table as he leaned forward. “We need to rally the people,” Reinhardt started, his voice low and somber. “We need to bring hope back, let them know that we won’t stand for Doomfist’s plans of world domination and chaos.” Though Hanzo kept his eyes on the giant, the small prick of pins and needles began to dance around his stumps, but he pushed the near violent need to soothe them away. This was not the place for weakness. Instead, he leaned back into his seat, his first visible change of position though the aloofness remained. Reinhardt looked hopeful at the gesture.

“Hanzo,” his voice grew even softer, directing his plight towards the heir. “There are people out there who have lost so much by Dommfist’s hands, surely you understand that same pain. It is our duty to answer their call.” Reinhardt gently dropped his head down, seeming to be on the verge of tears. Hanzo wanted to roll his eyes at the dramatics. “Talon has already taken so much from us, they cannot take the rest of the world. They want a war and we are the only people able to stop it, stop all this pointless pain and suffering.

“We need Angela’s new medical equipment to help those harmed by Talon, we need new tools for Torbjörn so we can keep fighting, Miss Zhou needs to be able to securely go through her data so lives weren’t given in vain. ‘Live with honour, die with glory’, that is the oath I have taken. I ask for your help, so that Overwatch can help the world, like it was meant to.” Hanzo stared at the old man for a moment, wondering how much he had purposely looked away from to think that he owed Overwatch a cent. Everyone across the world had heard of Reinhardt’s dishonourable discharge, of course the old man was looking for a way to redeem himself, to go out with his honour and glory.

“I am not responsible for the people of the world,” Hanzo started, pleased to see the hope die near instantly. “I hold no duty to anyone but my family and clan. You are delusional if you believe that you owe the world anything after your discharge.” Reinhardt flinched then, sharply sitting back down as he kept his gaze off the Shimada’s.

Hanzo looked to Soldier: 76 and Reaper, but neither made any move to try and cut a deal with the elder Shimada. Right now, he felt secure. He still held the power despite being stripped of nearly everything else, and it made him feel untouchable, even if it made the situation nearly impossible to navigate. Yuki knew where they were, Hanzo and Genji would be free eventually; they didn’t have to do anything but bide their time.

The ape let out a sigh, leaning back in the chair. Hanzo tensed up, able to feel his brother hold his breath and sit up as Winston rubbed at his temple. “There’s no easy way to settle this,” another sigh followed the very brief silence before Winston spoke again. “There’s nothing we can ask for that you’ll give us, the deals you make need to have a purpose. Giving us all this stuff isn’t the equivalent of being allowed to go home; your basic rights shouldn’t cost you anything.” It was hard to argue there, and he agreed, so Hanzo only gave a stiff nod.

“Winston—”

76 was cut off as the gorilla continued on, seemingly having found his confidence after listening to both sides bickering. “We’re asking for whatever amount of funds you see fit to help us continue on with our cause; pulling up old accounts and finding a new study to gain a grant for is starting to become impossible.”

All Winston wanted was money? That was it? If it meant freedom, Hanzo would gladly order a cheque book and personally sign one himself, then both he and Genji could be on their merry way. Let these blind fools order their equipment through their own channels, Hanzo would touch none of it for them.

“Money is of no issue to us,” Hanzo replied smoothly, “I can have the funds sent when I am able to acquire my cheque book.” Genji nodded in agreement, seemingly starting to relax as he leaned back in his chair again. Money was easy to give away, and the elders would be none the wiser if Hanzo pulled the money from his own personal account. Money was the only thing he could agree to and follow through on.

Winston nodded again, suddenly growing shy before Lena gently nudged his arm, giving a small but encouraging nod and smile. It seemed to do the trick as the ape nodded, taking a deep breath and lifting his head high, making direct eye contact with Hanzo for the first time since entering the room. “I know we have nothing you want, nothing that we can ethically give to a yakuza.” Fair , Hanzo thought, unsure where this was going but nodded along.

From behind them, Hanzo barely heard one of Cassidy’s spurs make a jingle, a quiet, “now hold on,” being spoken as the cowboy presumably pushed himself off from against the wall before Winston carried on.

“Hanzo,” the ape addressed him with a nod, “Genji,” his attention was directed to the younger one, Genji returning the nod cautiously before Winston turned back to Hanzo. “I formally extend this invitation; I want both of you to answer the Overwatch Recall.”

Chapter Text

For a brief moment, everything was still and silent. No one took a breath, no one blinked, no one moved a muscle. The only two who seemed unaffected by the bomb of a question was Winston and Lena, though there was no doubt that they had talked it over beforehand.

“You’re crazy! ” 76 roared, breaking Hanzo from his stupor to turn and look at the old soldier, now standing with his hands clenched at his sides, a snarl pulling at his lips.

Doctor Ziegler rose up next, her eyes wild and alive with fury that surpassed any look she had given Hanzo in the past. “They’re yakuza! They can’t be trusted!” The others swiftly rose from their seats, Hanzo barely able to make out any of their complaints as they began to speak over one another.

Sharply, Winston let out a roar, his face turning a light shade of red. The room fell silent, though no one sat or looked away from the ape as he returned to his normal complexion. “The funds Hanzo can provide us, as well as intel we can exchange back and forth, would be the miracle we’ve been looking for. If we’re allies with the Shimada clan, that’s one less ally for Talon.” Beside him, Genji opened his mouth, but Hanzo was quick enough to elbow him sharply in the side. A glare was sent to Hanzo, but he ultimately remained silent. He saw how childish it was, most likely so did the others, there was no need to point out that someone could be allies with your enemy.

“You’re missing the point,” Reaper snarled, his metal claws digging into the wooden table hard enough to leave little gouges. “They, as well as Talon, are the enemies. They have drug rings, illegal weapon trades, human trafficking .”

“Actually,” Genji started, Hanzo too slow on the uptake to silence him this time. “We haven’t trafficked people for over 25 years now.” Hanzo knew the second half to that reasoning, the ‘ it wasn’t making enough profits anymore ’ part, but, thankfully, Genji kept it to himself.

“You want a medal?” 76 snapped, turning his red visor to Genji.

Hanzo stood then, watching as the old blood tensed and set their eyes on the heir. Behind him, he heard Lúcio skate a tiny bit closer, and Cassidy let out a small huff before Hanzo heard him heavily thump and, presumably, lean against the wall.

“With all due respect,” Hanzo started, keeping himself aloof to try and hide the smile in his voice. “This choice is between Winston and myself; he was simply virtuous enough to let you all witness it.” Outraged cries rose again, Hanzo watching the discourse bubble over between supposive teammates, most turning their ire towards their leader. Even the mousey little scientist was frowning, Doctor Zhou’s eyebrows knit together as she boldly addressed the ape.

Quietly, Lena and Winston exchanged words, the former zipping off in a blink of blue light before arriving at Hanzo’s side.

The ape continued to shakily hold his ground, but Hanzo was now looking to Lena as she gestured with her head. “C’mon, we don’t expect you to decide right now.”

“Back to the cells then?” Genji asked in disinterest, leaning back in his seat.

Lena gave a little grin, rocking forward on the balls of her feet. “Actually, Winston’s set you two up with a standard room,” she gave the brothers a wink. “You’re both proper guests now.” Hanzo and Genji shared a look, the younger one shrugging as he rose to his feet, Hanzo quick to follow.

With a cheeky little smile, she led the way out of the room, Genji, Hanzo, Lúcio, and Cassidy following.

Once the door was closed, Cassidy gave a large grin to Lena, bumping shoulders with her. “Smart of y’all to invite them to the recall.”

Lena grinned right back, hands on her hips. “If they’re members, it’s not morally wrong to exchange intel.”

“It seems the others are of a vastly different opinion.” Hanzo commented, falling silent as Cassidy came forward and unlocked his cuffs, Lúcio performing a similar task with Genji.

Lena gave a shrug to the heir, a little smirk on her face. “You two wouldn’t be the first shady guys here; six times in the past month I’ve watched Reaper and 76 leave base, only coming back hours later.” Her smirk left then, a hand coming up to rub the back of her neck. “Tried to ask them about it once, got the cold shoulder and was told that I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“Sounds about right,” Cassidy mumbled, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Well, whatever!” Lena cheerily replied. “They can go be brooding on their own terms, we’ve got negotiations to plan out!” With a smile, Lena led the way through the halls, turning this way and that as she kept chattering and asking questions. Most fell along the lines of simple questions, like when was their birthdays, their favourite colours, any dietary restrictions. The little pilot tried to ask more intrusive questions, but Hanzo promptly shut them down. Thankfully, Lena hadn’t looked offended, only saying ‘fair’ before moving on.

Finally, they arrived at a door with a blank nameplate, Lena coming to a stop as she turned. “Alright! Here’s our stop! I’ll need both of you to register your handprint on the scanner, and the nameplate business will be sorted out later!”

Hanzo and Genji shared a look, and a brief, unspoken conversation took place before Genji moved forward first, placing his hand on the scanner.

“So you both know, other than you two; myself, Winston, Cassidy, and Lúcio have access to your room. Obviously if you choose to stay, once we get you your own rooms that won’t be a thing anymore.” Hanzo hummed in understanding as he watched a little blue line scan Genji’s hand. “If you need anything, Cassidy’s room is just further down the hall. And don’t worry about making too much noise, he’s the only one down this wing.” That interested Hanzo, looking away from Genji—who was now typing in a name to go with the handprint—and instead turned to look at the cowboy.

Cassidy just gave a little shrug, suddenly becoming more interested in his own boots. “I ain’t in the business of makin’ friends or gettin’ invited to Hana’s parties.” Hanzo held in a snort, keeping quiet about the fact that the cowboy was very much in the business of making at least one friend recently.

“Antisocial old man,” Lena started with a teasing tone, Hanzo looking back at the pilot in time to see her roll her eyes with a little grin. “So he’s down the hall and Lúcio is two hallways back the way we came.” Both brothers nodded in understanding, Genji quietly moving back to stand beside Hanzo.

A small nod was given from Genji, Hanzo taking that as a sign that everything was safe. He moved forward, placing his own hand to the scanner when prompted and waited for it to scan as Lena continued on.

“Breakfast and dinner are prepared every day, but you’re on your own for lunch. Cafeteria opens at 6 and closes at midnight, breakfast starts at 8 and runs ‘til 10, and dinner starts at 4 and runs ‘til 7!” Lena began to move on the spot as Hanzo began to input his first and last name. She seemed full of energy, it was a wonder she hadn’t started running laps around them. “All rooms have their own kitchenettes if you really don’t want to mingle, but you have to buy your own stuff.

“You can either ask someone to make a supply run for you, or make them yourselves once you’ve cleared the checks.” Lena explained further, Hanzo nodding as he backed away from the panel to stand beside Genji. “So unless either of you have any questions, you’re free to explore the base with Lúcio or Cassidy.” Ah, so they would be chaperoned, though that wasn’t unsurprising in the slightest.

“I have one question,” Genji started, gaining the attention of the group. “If we wanted to contact friends or family, would we be allowed to?”

Lena suddenly looked embarrassed, coming to a stop in her fidgeting. “Um, well…”

“You can ,” Cassidy started, taking over for Lena. “But all calls are monitored by Athena.” Hanzo opened his mouth to argue the point, demand that they be given some god damn privacy, when the cowboy continued. “It’s a precaution to ensure that no one’s actin’ as a double agent, Athena won’t tell a soul ‘bout yer conversations so long as ya ain’t planning a raid.”

That was… fair, Hanzo supposed. Their AI was set up similarly at home, SSAI listening in on every call and watching every text as they recorded and reported the questionable conversations to the head of security. Only Hanzo, Genji, and Sojiro had private lines, their phones whitelisted by SSAI upon Hanzo’s request after that night.

It made him suddenly wonder if Athena had anyone whitelisted, and if Cassidy’s name was near the top.

Upon both brothers remaining quiet, Lena spoke up once again, all semblance of nervousness or embarrassment gone as she continued on. “So, door’s easy enough to open, just place your hand on the scanner, and if you have access…” she paused as she placed her hand down, smiling wider as the door slid open. “Ta-da!”

Hanzo was quick to look in, finding a somewhat decently sized room with two twin beds. Each bed had its own nightstand and lamp, a smallish trunk at the end of each bed. Two large desks sat across from the beds, one with what looked like a bunch of papers that demanded to be read and stored for later.

It was much smaller than his own room back in Hanamura, the bed tiny in comparison, but they would be returning home soon enough. He decided it wasn’t worth throwing a fit over, not when the end was in sight.

“We have a map there on the desk so you can find your way around, but, seeing how the others reacted today,” Lena paused, wincing slightly. “You’ll both need to stay with your respective escort.”

Hanzo figured as much from earlier; there was no way they would be able to explore on their own. They were assassins after all; Overwatch would have been foolish to let them run rampant while they were still their charges. Even after the money had been transferred and their files cleared, Hanzo had a hard time imagining the old blood allowing them to go where they pleased.

“Leave us.” Lena and Lúcio shared a look of surprise, Cassidy seeming like he half expected it, but Hanzo left no room for argument as the three agents quietly left the brothers, the door sliding shut on its own.

Genji took no time at all getting comfy, throwing himself back onto the closest bed. “Our servants have bigger beds than this.” He whined, Hanzo letting out a chuckle as he moved to the further bed, sitting down for a moment to look around.

“This room is smaller than what we give the servants.” Genji laughed at that as he rolled onto his stomach, reaching for the nightstand and pulled the top drawer open to rummage through it.

Hanzo rose to his feet and began to take his time to investigate the room, beginning to look for any signs it had been bugged. He was sure none of the agents trusted them, especially Doctor Ziegler, and Hanzo figured they would all be paranoid enough to try something like this. While he had very good reason to believe there hadn’t been time to bug the room, he wouldn’t take the risk. Not again.

It still bothered him that Genji had killed Reaper, though he hadn’t stayed dead for long, apparently. Of course Genji wasn’t a coward. He would lift his blade or gun all the same if commanded. He was fine getting blood on his hands, enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, as did Hanzo. But neither of them would kill without command. Genji took his orders exclusively from Sojiro and Hanzo, and even if he was forced into a situation, he would maim before ending a life.

There must have been a reason, whether it be due to one taunt too many or the masked man showing too much resistance to how they operated, there was a reason. Genji was a little shit, but sometimes he had good reason to be. If he was wary of someone, so was Hanzo.

After about fifteen minutes of looking high and low, he felt confident enough to determine that the room wasn’t bugged. There had been what looked like a speaker system, the AI Athena responding when prompted, but he was quick to remember his conversation with Cassidy. He felt confident enough that if they were recorded, it wouldn’t leave Cassidy’s lips.

Hanzo turned to report his findings to his little brother, but found Genji lying on his stomach, reading a magazine that, unsurprisingly, had a scantily clad woman on the front. “You truly are shameless.” He chided, Genji glancing up as he let out a chuckle.

“They supplied it, I’m only putting it to good use.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes but sat down on the empty bed, Genji shelving the magazine as he crawled over the sheets to sit across from the elder Shimada. “How do we feel about their offer?” Hanzo asked in Japanese, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his knees, head propped up by the backs of his hands.

Genji hummed as he leaned back, hands splaying out behind him to hold himself up as he answered back in Japanese. “I mean, it has been a while since we did something fun, plus we can ruin them whenever we feel like.” Hanzo let out a thoughtful hum, Genji had a point. “I’d personally like to make Ziegler’s life pure hell; no one gets to buy our medical files without consequences.” Hanzo was of the same opinion. It had rubbed him the wrong way when she had come into his cell, trying to get him to answer her questions, before suddenly asking about his body. It had been jarring, listening to her list nearly thirty years worth of medication and surgeries he had. Hanzo knew she had done it maliciously, to try and blackmail Hanzo into answering her, he just didn’t understand what she gained other than his ire.

“Perhaps this’ll be fun.” Genji grinned widely at Hanzo’s words, his mind made up; they were going to play with Overwatch until they grew bored. They had plenty of money to spare, they could afford to lead the new Overwatch on until either the elders found out or Winston deemed they no longer required Hanzo’s handouts.

Genji suddenly stood with a stretch, moving over to the desk with the map. “We should go explore; learn the exits, maybe meet some people looking for a bit of extra cash.” Their eyes met and Hanzo let out a snort.

“The elders won’t accept anyone outside of their circle, you know this.”

“Sure, but easy contacts for us if things go south.” Genji replied with an easy shrug, keeping his eyes on the map. “No better way to take down an organisation than from within, and if we got a few of them in our pockets…” Genji trailed off, finally looking back to Hanzo with a little grin.

He rolled his eyes, but Genji had a point. “Fair enough. I doubt any of the old blood would bite, but perhaps Reaper or Soldier can still be bought, maybe some of these freedom fighters would like to be paid a bit more.” He had little confidence in Reaper and Soldier, too many transgressions against each other, but it was a nice thought regardless.

Genji’s grin grew wider as he turned around, leaning against the desk. “I think I know at least one American who’d gladly switch teams.” Hanzo scoffed, glaring at Genji.

“He’s merely a pawn; I’m able to do as I please and he doesn’t tell a soul.” Genji rolled his own eyes before letting out a small chuckle, Hanzo quick to try and get the last word in. “Though I do recall you had your own friend following after you as well.”

Ever expressive, Genji’s cheeks went pink, turning his gaze down to the floor. “He’s easy on the eyes and I’m bored, what’s your excuse? If it wasn’t for your self imposed cock block, you two would already be fucking.” Hanzo knew this was bait, he knew this was just Genji’s way of deflecting, placing the embarrassment elsewhere. Hanzo fell for it all the same.

His own cheeks heated up, glaring at Genji as he rose to his feet, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “What I choose to do behind closed doors is my business, and my business only. If only you had learned to do the same, then perhaps you wouldn’t be involved with a new scandal every month!” Genji didn’t get to claim the moral high ground, Hanzo refused to allow it.

Genji scoffed, pushing himself off from the desk, stalking around the room towards the door. “At least my scandals aren’t controlled by the elders.” He muttered, swiftly making his exit before Hanzo could say anymore.

Hanzo stayed standing where he was, trying anything and everything Zenyatta had ever taught them to control his temper, but he was furious . He wasn’t listening to the elders, he chose this for himself. Sure, they had suggested it in the beginning, but he didn’t have time to roll around whenever he felt like it, so it just made sense. Genji didn’t understand, he would never understand. He was the second son, he would never have to bend over backwards for the clan like Hanzo had.

Sharply, he turned and in a fit of rage, swept all the papers from the desk. His anger only boiled more as they gently glided to the floor. All he wanted was to break something, get the energy out. Hanzo missed his bow more than ever right now, slinging arrow after arrow into a target, thoughtlessly allowing the fury to leave with each snap of the bowstring.

Just as Hanzo was about to flip either a desk or a bed, there was a knock on the door. He so desperately wanted to ignore it, but instead he headed over, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“Hey darlin’,” Cassidy greeted, an easy smile on his face that Hanzo wanted to punch. Of course, of course , of all people, it was the goddamn American.

“What do you want?” He muttered in English, ready to hear the cowboy ask what was wrong and suck up, try and get him to make up with Genji, just like Sojiro—

Instead, Cassidy just held up a bottle in one hand and two tumblers in the other. “Was wonderin’ if ya wanted to celebrate.”

The anger left for only a moment to be replaced with confusion, Hanzo feeling his shoulders relax minutely. “What?” Cassidy’s grin widened slightly. “What is there worth celebrating?”

“Well, ain’t no one got stabbed, so that’s a pretty good reason.” Hanzo let out a snort, Cassidy letting out his own little chuckle.

“I… I could use a drink.” Hanzo admitted, feeling himself relax further as the two of them shared a small and brief smile, the anger vanishing and leaving a small bundle of dread in the back of his mind. He could fight Genji later, maybe meet him on the mats and remind him who was in charge. “Did you want to come in?”

“Nah, I got a better place, c’mon.” Hanzo nodded, hearing the door slide shut behind him as Cassidy led him around the base, climbing a flight or two of stairs, before arriving on the roof.

The view was breathtaking; Hanzo could see out into the ocean for kilometres, the deep and beautiful blue waves rolling in a mesmerising pattern. The sun was just setting above them, an explosion of pinks and oranges painting the sky that reminded him so much of Hanamura.

A feeling of homesickness climbed up from his chest, up into his throat. He wanted to just go home, he was so tired. Cassidy had helped make their time here bearable, but he missed his staff, his uncle and father.

“Found this place shortly after arrivin’,” Cassidy started, pulling Hanzo from his thoughts to find the cowboy sitting along the catwalk, legs dangling off the edge. “Seems like no one knows it exists, unless they do and just don’t appreciate a view when they see one.”

“It is beautiful,” Hanzo managed to murmur, looking back out over the ocean. Soon, he would be home soon, he could make it for a while longer.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a short while, Hanzo taking in the sight. Cassidy made no complaints as he waited, Hanzo able to hear him pour their drinks.

It was… nice. Very rarely were there quiet days in the castle, a chance for Hanzo to bask in peace without someone coming to bother him. There were always papers to sign, contracts to write up, meetings to attend, underlings to put in their place. Maybe… maybe, when he returned, they could think up a new business model that required less of Hanzo’s attention.

After taking most of his fill, Hanzo sat down beside Cassidy. At first, he was just going to sit seiza, but when his ankle refused to bend and sent the pain receptors haywire, he relented and sat with his legs hanging over the edge.

“Hope ya don’t mind whiskey, I can get’cha somethin’ else next time.” Hanzo felt his stomach flip over itself for some inexplicable reason. He wanted there to be a next time, regardless of what Genji thought. Hanzo had never had a friend before, and Cassidy seemed like a safe first option.

“I prefer sake, but variety never hurts.”

“Amen to that.”

They returned to their silence, sipping at their whiskey as they watched the sun sink lower and lower. Hanzo’s mind wandered again, unable to stop thinking of the American by his side.

He was… kind, unlike anyone else in Hanzo’s life. Of course people were nice to him back home, but they had to be, lest they be fired for angering the heir or slighting their oyabun. Cassidy had no such obligations, at least that Hanzo was aware of.

He knew they had endeared themselves to one another, accidentally or on purpose on Cassidy’s behalf, Hanzo would never know. But, for just this moment, it felt real. It didn’t feel like a game, one that he was bound to lose.

Even if he did lose, he thought he wouldn’t mind it being by Cassidy’s hand.

Thankfully, a shiver pulled Hanzo from his thoughts, only now realising how cool it was. He was still wearing the same compression top from earlier that lacked any sleeves, plus the material hadn’t been particularly thick to begin with. Regardless, he had been in worse conditions, and the whiskey was warming him just fine.

Cassidy seemed to take notice, and with a flourish, removed the serape from his shoulders and draped it over Hanzo. He opened his mouth to protest, one hand already poised to yank it off, when Cassidy spoke up. “I got sleeves and I’m used to the weather, ain’t gonna bother me none.” As if to prove his point, he rolled down his sleeves, including the one over his prosthetic, before relaxing back into place with a small smile tugging on his chapped lips.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said softly, pulling the serape a little tighter around himself as he looked back out over the ocean. It smelled distinctly of smoke and whiskey, unsurprisingly, and he could just pick up what he thought was cinnamon before pushing the thoughts aside. He could feel his cheeks heating, his entire body heating up, as he swallowed hard and stamped down any feelings that seemed to want to bubble over unannounced at the gesture.

How he felt didn’t matter, like the elders had said. He was a tool to be used, a weapon, and weapons didn’t harbour childish affections. Cassidy was simply being nice because he was charismatic, nothing more than southern charm that Hanzo had read about in old age books.

A little, tiny part that Hanzo refused to acknowledge said otherwise. That tiny part hoping he was wrong about Cassidy.

Before long, as their companionable silence grew, Cassidy rose to his feet and stretched. “I’m headin’ in, can ya find yer own way back to yer room?”

Hanzo blinked up at him in surprise. “Of course, but are you not supposed to stay with me while I am out?” Lena had made it clear, and both brothers had agreed. He assumed Cassidy and Lúcio had also made their promises when Hanzo had dismissed them.

Was it a trap then? A trick? Or was it just a test, seeing if Hanzo could keep his word?

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Cassidy gave him a wink, collecting one of the glasses before he made his way to the door, not looking back as he descended down the stairs.

Hanzo was quietly left alone with the bottle of whiskey and his thoughts, his cheeks going red now that he was by himself.

Instead of dwelling on the thoughts, Hanzo scooted back to lean against the wall, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. It seemed the light pollution out here was just low enough to where, if he looked hard enough, he could see the larger and more brighter stars.

With a soft sigh, Hanzo pulled the serape tighter around himself, taking a deep breath as he let his mind go.

Chapter Text

Two uneventful weeks went by, Genji doing the best he could to assimilate and get inside friend groups. So far, he made friends with a handful of the underlings; they had enjoyed his humour and were fascinated by the tales he had from home. Most of them were half truths or straight up lies, but he was accustomed to weaving stories and lying through his teeth at this point that it came naturally.

Getting into the inner circle was a little more difficult; but with Lúcio as his in, he was introduced to Hana and Brigitte, and they had then introduced him to some of the agents who weren’t completely against the Shimada’s.

Hana and Brigitte were fun, and once Brigitte got over the fact they got past her while trying to escape, she warmed up to him a lot faster. Hana was ecstatic when she found out Genji knew how to use a controller and nearly lost her mind when he finally gave her a challenge. ‘ Cassidy’s funny when we game, but he sucks. No else really bothers to try when I ask, ’ she had sounded so sad that Genji promised that, whenever she wanted, he would pop over for a couple rounds of whatever game she wanted.

Brigitte had laughed at the promise, but Hana had nearly been bouncing on the spot, thanking him and promising to make sure there were plenty of snacks and drinks.

While Torbjörn still didn’t like him, the little Bastion unit that followed after the engineer was friendly. They would stop in their tracks and let out little chipper noises in greeting, giving a small wave of their hand before turning and quickly moving to catch up with Torbjörn. Genji had also taken the time to visit Bastion’s garden, something that Brigitte had mentioned in passing that Genji wanted to investigate, and the child-like excitement when someone arrived nearly made Genji forget that the robot was a major part of the Crisis.

Satya and Fareeha wanted nothing to do with him, which was understandable. The former would only show up when Fareeha was on base, otherwise she was elsewhere doing whatever Vishkar agents did. Fareeha had nearly sounded like a parrot, her logic and reasoning seeming to fall in line with the old blood on why the brothers shouldn’t be there. He had pointed out several flaws, grinning when he saw her get frustrated, and was now given the silent treatment. He was hardly bothered by it.

Lynx Seventeen and Zarya were found usually in one of the workout rooms, the omnic typing away at some device while the Russian merely continued to lift weights. While Lynx seemed cautious of Genji at first, Zarya had warmed up to him near instantly, seemingly having no grievances. Instead, she was only worried that both brothers were eating and exercising. He promised they were doing both, and she clapped him on the shoulder, saying ‘ good, is not good to be weakling, ’ giving a pointed look to Lynx.

The omnic had thrown up his arms, made a comment about how he was the brains and she was the brawns, to which she let out a tsk . Genji enjoyed them both greatly.

Lena, thankfully, was interested in keeping good graces with the younger Shimada since Hanzo rarely spoke with anyone else besides the cowboy, often trying to invite Genji over to eat with Winston and herself. He accepted as much as possible, gaining Winston’s trust slowly but surely.

It had amazed him that an ape could talk, but then finding out he was from the moon had floored Genji.

One rainy afternoon, Winston had explained what happened on Horizon Lunar Colony; the different tests, animals, the doctors and scientists. When Genji had asked why he left, Winston had grown quiet, mostly dodged around the question. The only thing he would say was that he and his friend, Hammond, had made their escape.

Winston didn’t talk any more on the matter, and Genji didn’t ask. It was clearly still a fresh wound, and while Genji didn’t care for most people, it felt wrong to poke fun at the gorilla.

Eventually, he would need to work himself into the old Overwatch, and he was sure he could make quick friends right away with Mei if he actually tried. The others… well, he certainly had a new pet project for the next long while.

With a shake of his head, Genji pulled himself from his musings, staring down at the phone Lúcio had given him a handful of days ago.

Currently, he was hidden away in one of the few communal restrooms, one that was marked ‘out of commission’. He stood leaning against the wall beside the door, ready to bolt or attack if he was found, though he doubted it would come to that.

Genji bit his lip as he glanced at the number he had typed out, thumb hovering over the call button.

They were promised that Athena wouldn’t report their conversations so long as there was no threat. That had been two weeks ago, but it still rested heavy at the forefront of his mind. Would he be risking his and Hanzo’s safety? Would Overwatch come down on him for making an outside call? Would Hanzo come down on him for potentially leaking a Shimada number?

Taking a deep breath, Genji hit the call button, bringing the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And—

“ I apologise, but this is a private number. How were you able to acquire it? ”

Genji nearly began crying, unable to stop his smile from widening as he crouched down, holding his knees close to his chest with his free arm. “It’s good to hear your voice, Master.”

An audible gasp came through the line, something Genji wasn’t even aware Zenyatta’s voice box could produce. “ Oh, oh my, hold on, I’m just-- hold on .”

“Of course.”

Genji listened carefully as he heard Zenyatta apologise profusely in Japanese, other voices that were muffled answering something back, before the soft sound of a sliding door was opened and closed, the omnic’s attention back on him.

“ It’s been so long, are you well? Is Hanzo okay? Chifumi told me about her visit with Hanzo, but she said you were not there .”

Instead of answering the questions presented, he instead let out a soft sigh. “I miss you and our routine.”

“ Genji ,” Zenyatta soothed, his voice softer and less frantic. “ I apologise, let me try again. Are you sitting in lotus? ”

“No.”

“ Well, sit, and we can talk .”

“Are you sitting as well?”

Zenyatta was quiet for a moment, Genji barely able to hear him fiddling with something.

He knew he was being mildly difficult. They had talked over the phone before, Zenyatta completing his daily tasks while guiding Genji through the motions. But he wanted to talk to Zenyatta alone, regardless of how bratty he was being to get his way.

“ This is your number for the time being, correct? ” Genji let out a hum. “ Is Hanzo available right now? ”

“Probably, he doesn’t leave our room much.”

“ Go to him and phone me back when you are ready. ”

A childlike anger rushed Genji, blinding him momentarily. “ I want to talk with you, alone, like back home. I don’t want Hanzo there.” The line was silent for a moment, Genji thinking he got his way, but Zenyatta’s voice came out more stern, the soft lit missing.

“ I will not show favouritism; we will make a new routine so I can see you both separately, but it is important for me to see you both together for the first time in over seven months. ” Genji wanted to say more, but there was a click before the line went dead.

He baulked down at the phone as he pulled it away, seeing the call had ended. “He hung up on me,” he mumbled, “he fucking hung up on me.”

Briefly, Genji considered not doing as he was told, just keep phoning Zenyatta back until the omnic gave in. Unfortunately, their master was much more patient than Genji ever would be, so he relented and stood, slowly making his way back to the shared room.

He was reluctant to speak with Hanzo, their fight seemingly living rent free in Hanzo’s head as his older brother did anything and everything to be aggressive. Most days that he wasn’t sulking in their room, Hanzo was with Cassidy. Genji had thought to tease him further about the American, but it was one of the rare times Genji had seen Hanzo’s shoulders not squared and ready for a fight.

Hanzo was relaxed, walked with less purpose, smiled and laughed with the cowboy. It was strange, if Genji was being honest. Hanzo was openly… happy , and the source of that happiness was the scruffy man who could barely speak his own damn language.

It reminded Genji of his friends back home, how he himself would relax in their presence, smile wider, laugh louder. Even Yuki, while not a close friend, was a confidant that Hanzo never had. She was there for Genji, they both knew that, so Hanzo never bothered to get overly close with her.

Genji stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall, not caring if he was caught without Lúcio. The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks, a hand moving to cover the grin slowly taking over his face.

Hanzo made his first friend.

He made his first friend and was trying to keep Genji away from him.

It all made sense; the aggression, the sharp remarks, Hanzo doing what he could to chase Genji away from him and the cowboy. It was all to ensure Genji couldn’t take his friend away.

With a small hop in his step, Genji made his way back to the shared room, unable to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

He couldn’t care less about the American; he was too loud, both in volume and in stature. He spoke loudly, his spurs constantly clanked, always seemed to be whistling or humming when not talking. It annoyed Genji to no end, just wanting Cassidy to be silent for once. And then there was the posturing, which already was aggressive to begin with since he was American, but got worse when Soldier or Reaper were around. Sometimes even when Genji made too sharp of a bite, he was treated to that posturing and nearly equally as rude comments.

Genji supposed he deserved the comments, he was baiting a reaction anyways, but the rest he felt were well past the point of acceptable.

As he rounded the final corner down their hallway, he sharply pushed himself back the way he had come from. Only just peeking around the corner, he saw Cassidy leaning against the wall with his hands tucked in his front pockets, one leg bent with a booted foot resting on the wall. The man was laughing, eyes half shut as his head tipped back, his hand coming up a second too late to try and catch his hat from hitting the floor.

Across from the cowboy stood Hanzo, a wide grin on his face as he had his arms crossed over his chest, looking quite pleased with himself. “Then, Genji had the audacity to ask Father why he had not knocked, despite having been in his office.” Genji paled slightly, remembering that night quite well and was embarrassed Hanzo was just telling some random man they just met about something he did high and drunk.

When Cassidy looked like he wanted to ask some questions, Genji stepped into the hall and cleared his throat. Instantly, the tension he was so used to seeing in Hanzo returned, his good mood gone as both his brother and the cowboy turned to face him.

“If you’re done telling him about my personal life, I need to talk with you.” His harsh words were meant for Hanzo alone, but Cassidy stepped away from the wall and did that stupid posturing thing where his thumbs hooked into his belt loops and he looked down on Genji.

“Mighty sorry, I asked him ‘bout any crazy things y’all got up to.”

Genji scoffed. “There were plenty of other things he could’ve mentioned that didn’t tarnish my image.” It was Hanzo’s turn to scoff, eyes narrowed at the younger Shimada.

“You could not possibly tarnish your image further if you tried.” He sneered.

Genji opened his mouth to defend himself, but Hanzo suddenly turned to Cassidy. “It appears I am needed, thank you for showing me the gym.”

Cassidy gave an easy smile as his posture relaxed, a smile that Genji noticed Hanzo returned shyly. “Ain’t no problem, darlin’.” Genji rolled his eyes, disgusted at how friendly they were. It only confirmed his suspicion that they would be fucking if his brother wasn’t a prude.

The cowboy swiped up his hat from the floor, setting it on his head, before giving Hanzo a two-fingered salute, and moseyed his way down the hall to his room.

The interaction left Genji mildly dazed, the stupidity of it all quickly catching up with him as he turned and muscled his way past Hanzo. “Come on, I have a call waiting for us.” Hanzo let out a huff but said nothing as he followed.

Once they were in their room with the door shut and locked, Genji was quick to pull one of the chairs from one desk over to the other. He set his phone down, typing in the number and hit ‘call’, turning to stare at Hanzo as it began to ring.

Hanzo seemed to understand well enough as he almost hesitantly walked over, plopping himself down on the chair before crossing one leg over his knee. “This better not be a waste of my time.” He mumbled out in Japanese, Genji scoffing.

“You can leave your ‘only-a-pawn’ for a few minutes.”

Hanzo scowled but said no more, arms crossed as he leaned heavily back into the chair. Genji himself was leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs with both feet firmly planted to the floor. He doubted they’d be sitting in chairs for long, Zenyatta most likely wanting them sitting lotus on the floor instead.

“ Good to hear from you again, Genji ,” Hanzo sharply sat up ramrod straight, both feet meeting the floor as his arms uncrossed. “ I hope you have done as I asked and retrieved Hanzo? ”

“Yes, Master Zenyatta, I am here.”

Genji wanted to bite out that he could answer for himself, but Zenyatta was already continuing on by the time he opened his mouth. “ Wonderful, I wished to speak with both of you once before returning to private sessions.

“ Now then ,” Zenyatta started, “ why is there disquiet in both your souls? ”

“Genji will not—”

“Hanzo is being—”

Both brothers turned and glared at one another, Hanzo’s nose scrunching up into a snarl as Genji’s eyes narrowed. They switched to Japanese then, knowing their master was more than capable of understanding.

“Hanzo won’t stop being a little bitch about our situation.”

“Oh, and I suppose you trying to get cosy with everyone you meet is any better?”

“Yeah, it is! At least I’m doing something productive!”

“So we consider fucking your way through their team productive?”

“At least I’ve been doing something, unlike you! All you do all day is sit around with Cassidy and exchange lovey-dovey looks! I’m trying to get us resources so we can get home sooner!”

“Maybe I don’t want to go home!”

Hanzo instantly shot his head down, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he stared at the floor.

Genji gaped at him, eyes wide as he was sure his heart stopped. He would have never thought… it was Hanzo’s empire , why would he… why would he not want to go home?

As the silence stretched uncomfortably between them, Hanzo began to shake, keeping his head down and away from Genji’s gaze.

Quietly, oh so quietly, Zenyatta spoke up. “ Hanzo, would you care to explain? ”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Hanzo…” Genji started, already knowing this was leading to him shutting down. Not again , Genji thought, not like last time .

“ It is your birthright, Hanzo ,” their master said softly. “ You cannot run from your history .”

“I’m not running,” he muttered, but Zenyatta continued on.

“ You must return home, for the sake of the clan. ”

“They don’t need me.”

“ Yes, they do— ”

“No, they don’t!” Hanzo spat, standing up with enough force to knock his chair back. “We’ve been gone for months! We’ve been assumed dead by the elders!

“They don’t want me!” The venom in Hanzo’s voice startled Genji, unused to hearing such verbal hate directed at someone coming from his brother’s mouth. Before their capture, Hanzo had muttered in passing about his disdain for the elders, for anyone who dared to control him, but this… this was something entirely new. “They’ve never wanted me! I’m a stain, something they must wash out, something they hate and despise —”

“ Enough! ” Zenyatta roared, Genji jolting back in shock as he whipped his head back around to look at the phone. Zenyatta never raised his voice, ever . “ The elders do not matter, they have never mattered. What matters is that you and Genji are both alive; that you both will live to see another day.

“ You are still alive , Hanzo, and that is all that matters. The elders can say what they want, do as they please, but as long as you’re still alive, you are untouchable . ”

A tense silence filtered over them, Genji on the edge of his seat, ready to spring to Hanzo’s side. But instead, he watched with pain filling his chest as Hanzo dropped to a crouch, holding his knees tightly to his chest as he hid his face away.

“ It has been a long seven months ,” Zenyatta said more softly. “ Until you can come home, the only people you can trust are each other. ” Genji bit his lip, looking away from Hanzo. He wanted to argue, inform their master that carving out some semblance of friendships was the only way they could curry favour, but Zenyatta pressed on.

“ Forget about Cassidy, Hanzo; there’s nothing for you there. They won’t be able to return with you, they’re stuck in place with their comrades. ”

Quietly, from his knees, Hanzo raised his voice just loud enough for both his brother and their master to hear. “He told me—”

“ He is a mercenary, he holds no loyalty to anyone but himself. He’ll find another contract somewhere, he’ll leave you.

“ They’ll all leave you, regardless if they are your friends or not .” Genji let out a soft noise, suddenly shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re wrong.”

“ Genji— ”

“I know you’re used to the yakuza life, but these idiots are different; they treat each other like family.

“If Cassidy’s hat was suddenly destroyed beyond hope tomorrow, everyone would either seek out a replacement or try and fix it. If one of Hana’s consoles went down, or her computer needed a part replaced, the team would jump at the chance to help.” Genji rubbed at his chest, glancing down to find Hanzo looking up at him from the corner of his eye. “If Hanzo asked Cassidy to keep him company because he misses home, and just wants some semblance of normal, then the stupid cowboy would gladly spend the afternoon with him on the roof.”

Hanzo looked away then, but Genji could see the tension leave his shoulders. He nearly let out a sigh of relief, but he managed to keep it to himself. “If we keep treating this like another mission, I’m pretty sure we would’ve been better off in Talon’s little lab.”

There was a pregnant pause, allowing Genji enough time to settle on the floor next to Hanzo, throwing one arm around his shoulders. Slowly, Hanzo moved to sit on his bum, legs outstretched and gently leaning into Genji’s shoulder. His breath was still jittery, and he swiped at the salty tears under his eyes from time to time, but said nothing about the close contact.

“ I suppose I have misjudged the situation. ” Zenyatta finally said, breaking the coiled tension and released it like a gentle exhale. “ Your mental states come first, and I apologise for implying anything else.

“ Take care of yourselves, and return home when you can. ”

The call ended shortly after, Genji keeping a firm grip on Hanzo, holding him close.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” Genji paused, “and, uh, two weeks ago. I knew it would bother you and I—”

“Oh, shut up, we both know I’m at fault.”

Genji let out a snort. “Stop trying to take the blame, let me be in the spotlight for once.” He teased, internally wincing when he realised how easy of a set up that was for Hanzo. Another jab at how he could never not be controversial for his family.

He braced for it, but… it never came. “You were justified to question my motives.”

“Hardly.” Quietness fell over them, Genji completely relaxing only when Hanzo’s breathing returned to normal. “Hanzo?” The elder let out a hum. “For the record, I…” Genji glanced away, “while I don’t like the cowboy; I support whatever’s going on between you two, and… and I’m glad you found a friend.”

Hanzo remained quiet for too long, Genji beginning to think he had stepped over some unknown boundary, already thinking up a million different ways to apologise, when Hanzo quietly replied. “So am I.”

Chapter Text

Cole couldn’t help the little smile that graced his face, the cowboy in high spirits despite Genji’s push to sour the mood.

He had asked Hanzo why his brother didn’t try and talk with him, the younger one seeming like a social butterfly and all that, but Hanzo had shrugged and switched the subject. Cole didn’t mind much; if Genji wanted to talk with him, he knew where he slept.

The thought nearly had Cole stopping, but he suppressed the shiver that threatened to climb up his spine. Hanzo wouldn’t let Genji hurt him.

Well, at least not intentionally.

Cole came to a stop outside his door. As he began to type in his pin, Cole glanced back down the hall, just managing to catch Hanzo entering the brothers' room as the door slid shut behind them.

Entering his own room, Cole let out a sigh as he plucked his hat off, setting in on the hook by the door. The serape was next as he pulled it from his shoulders, tossing it to the chair by the desk.

Thankfully, after a short talk with Winston once the cowboy had made his return, Cole had managed to get his room changed. It was an easy transition, considering there were few agents on base who had a high enough status, so he was able to snatch one of the few rooms that functioned like a small, one bedroom apartment. He was grateful that he could slip out and get his own food to cook, could sleep with a locked door, could take long ass showers.

With a grin that was unable to leave his lips, he headed over to his couch and collapsed into it, letting out a content sigh as he leaned his head back to rest it on the couch. This was as close to paradise as he’d ever get in this life.

“Athena?”

“ Cassidy? ” He gave a little grin.

“Don’t let no one bother me, and if I’m asked after, tell ‘em I’m off base.”

“ Are you sure? ” Cole let out a hum. “ Very well, you’re currently marked as ‘off base’ .”

“Thanks sugar.”

Cole stretched his arms over his head, feeling his shoulders pop before relaxing. There was so much to do, and so little time before he was needed again.

A shower would be a good place to start, think about Hanzo while he was at it. Afterwards, he could write some articles while listening to old movies in the background, pointedly ignoring the paperwork on his desk. Once that was done, he debated inviting Hanzo to join him for dinner again—

His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on his door.

He stayed perfectly still, trying to think of the odds of it being Hanzo or someone else, but he would have received a text by now if it was the latter.

“Athena, who’s at the door?” He asked quietly.

“ Agent Song .” Cole wanted to let out a sigh.

She was a sweet gal, and he liked her well enough, but whatever she wanted, he didn’t want any part of it. He just wanted to spend his night in peace and not have to remember buttons on a controller.

“Cassidy?” Came Hana’s muffled voice. “I know you’re in there! There’s no way you could leave base so fast after I just asked Athena where you were!” Cole rolled his eyes, letting out a huff as he made his way over and opened the door.

“Look, Hana, I ain’t in the mood—”

“I don’t want to play games,” she started, inviting herself in as she shoved past him and headed to his couch. “I want to talk to you.”

He rolled his eyes again, but shut the door and moved to sit in the armchair adjacent to the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “What d’ya need?” Cole didn’t mean to sound annoyed, truly he didn’t, but Hana either didn’t notice or took no offence.

“You’re old, right?”

Cole let out a snort. “Can’t you ridicule me some other day?”

“What? Oh! No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“How else could that be interpreted?”

“I meant, like, you know a lot about life, and… and relationships?”

Cole gave pause then, eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Hana, but her gaze was on her lap now and she seemed to shrink in on herself. “Sure, been ‘round the block a few times, but I ain’t the best person to ask.”

“But you’re super confident! And straight forward! I already asked Angela but she gave me some garbage advice; I don’t think she’s ever dated before.” Hana rolled her eyes, but Cole couldn’t help but snort as he relaxed slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward.

“You’d be surprised, she and Moira were a pair back in the day.”

Hana sharply looked up to him, eyes wide in surprise. “No way! But I’ve heard nothing but bad things about her! Isn’t she part of Talon now too?”

“I mean, yeah , but before the explosion was a mighty different time.”

Hana was quiet for a moment before giving her head a small shake, sitting up a little taller. “Well, she dated a psycho, so her advice is definitely null and void.” Cole let out a chuckle at that.

He had thought the same back in Blackwatch, unable to take her dating advice seriously. He worked with Moira back then, he knew who she was. Most of the time, anything Angela said to him went in one ear and out the other.

“So, since we’re clear on that, what’cha need?”

Hana looked nervous again, nodding as she glanced down at her lap. “Well… you know Brigitte, right?”

“I do."

“Well… I… I like her, like like her, and I don’t know how to get her attention.”

Cole was sure this is what high school would’ve been like had he attended.

“Hana,” he started with a small sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t just make her ‘ like like’ you back.”

“But you have a shitload of charisma! You could date anyone you wanted!”

“Sure, but you ain’t me .” Hana fell silent then, and thankfully the message seemed to get through to her. “I’m sorry, Hana, but I can’t help ya in this department.”

She let out a sigh, tipping her head to rest against the back of the couch, her eyes glued to the ceiling. “Well, if you were me, what would you do?” Hana sounded truly and utterly defeated, so Cole took pity on her.

He let out his own sigh, leaning back in his seat. “Well, firstly, I ain’t no coward, so I’d just tell her.” Hana let out a huff but Cole pressed on. “If I didn’t wanna tell her for some reason, I’d just start bein’ around her more, learn everythin’ I could ‘bout her.

“I’d take her out somewhere nice, but not too expensive. Ask her if she feels the same.” Cole shrugged. “You don’t gotta do some grand gesture; if she likes ya, she’ll appreciate you just askin’.”

“What if she rejects me?” Hana asked, her voice small.

Cole looked over and found she was now sitting with her knees to her chest, staring at the floor. “Then oh well, Torb’s got plenty of other kids to date.” He teased, getting a strained smile and half hearted laugh from the MEKA pilot.

“But what if… what if she doesn’t want to talk to me after I ask her…?”

Cole leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. He was missing something, a piece of context that was slipping past him. Hana was smart, funny, and brave; why was she so tied up about this?

“Hana, what’s up? Y’ain’t normally like this.”

“Promise you won’t yell at me?”

“What-- why would I yell?”

Hana suddenly squeezed her eyes shut, tipping her head down as she spoke as fast as she could. “ Imtransgender .” Oh .

“And?” She snapped open her eyes to stare at him.

“What do you mean ‘and’? Aren’t you, I dunno, confused on what that is, or why I’m worried about what Brig will think?”

Cole let out a huff as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. “I ain’t from the stone age, y’know. Yer worried that she’s gonna reject you ‘cause you wouldn’t match what you think she would want, but without askin’, you don’t know what she wants.

“But if ya ask to confirm,” Cole continued, “then ya have to out yerself, and that’s scary without knowin’ her stance.”

Hana just stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly ajar. “How—”

“You ain’t the only one in this room who’s trans, sweetheart.”

It took Hana a moment, no doubt trying to get her brain to catch up with what he just said, but Cole was fine waiting. In fact, it gave him just enough time to mildly panic, wondering if it was smart to tell the younger one about himself. If she wanted, Hana could have this spread around the base in no time flat. Though, if he had to guess, she wouldn’t speak a word of this to anyone else.

Surprisingly, she kept her voice low, a calmness settling in that was mildly uncharacteristic but that Cole was more than fine with. “How… how old were you when you knew?”

“Back in the Deadlock days. Didn’t know the word for it, so they just called me a tomboy.”

“When did you start HRT? Did you use blockers? How did you pick your name? Did Overwatch—”

“Slow down!” Cole couldn’t keep the laugh from his voice, relaxing now that he knew she was only curious. “One atta time.”

Hana gave a nod, moving to sit cross legged. “Okay, I can do that.” She seemed to think for a moment before gently clapping her hands together. “How did you pick out your name?” Thankfully she was starting with the easy questions, and hopefully they would stay somewhat easy.

“Was the name of one of the characters in the book my momma used to read to me.”

“That’s adorable, I love that. I… my mom always said that if I was born… you know…” she gave a vague gesture, and Cole nodded in understanding. “That she would’ve named me ‘Hana’, and I liked it, so I kept it.”

“It’s a nice name, yer mom picked a good one.”

Hana blushed as she looked down, giving a nod as she smiled slightly. “Thanks.” They were both quiet for a moment before Hana continued on. “How much did you do with Overwatch?”

“They got me on hormones and did my top surgery.” He skipped over the part where he and Gabe fought tooth and nail against each other, his commander trying to figure out what he needed while Cole kept tight-lipped. Nothing good had ever come from saying anything in the past, so he had withheld anything and everything.

Eventually, he got a social security number, as well as other credentials that the team had guessed, like his birthday, and Gabe finally gave him the freedom to do what he pleased with his body. It was only then, when he knew he was completely safe and trusted Gabe, that he spoke up.

He had been… surprised that everything had gone smoothly, that no one who knew judged him. He was also grateful that he and Gabe spent more time together after that, learning from the older trans man without fear of being judged. So, Cole supposed he could repay that goodwill forward, help out and answer any of Hana’s questions and concerns as best he could, just like what Gabe had done with him.

“Obviously I’m on HRT,” she started, her voice quieting down a touch. “Do you think Winston and Angela would be okay with doing surgery on me?” Cole let out a quiet hum, genuinely thinking it over.

For an ape, Winston was surprisingly compassionate about human wants and needs, so Cole was confident that he wouldn’t try to veto anything. Angela wasn’t by any means a plastic surgeon, but she must have friends in all fields of her industry, there should be someone she could ask.

“I think they’d both be fine; they sure as hell ain’t gonna kick you out.” Both shared a brief chuckle before Cole continued on. “I ain’t sure Angie can do those types of procedures; they shipped me off to get my top surgery done elsewhere, but it don’t hurt askin’ her.” Hana gave a clipped nod, Cole fighting back the urge to grin at how serious she looked.

They both fell quiet, Hana looking conflicted but Cole let her lead, let her set their pace. “Do… do you ever regret it?”

“The surgery?”

“No, like…” Hana gave a vague gesture to Cole. “All of you.” That… that was a touchy subject.

When he was younger, new and fresh into Overwatch, he had been angry and confused, just wanting things to line up and match now , not in several years . He had spent many nights venting to Gabriel, wishing he was anyone but himself, and the older man understood and spoke soft words of encouragement.

Then, for a while, things were good. His facial hair grew in surprisingly well, his body shape seemed to flip on a dime (though nutritious meals and constant exercise seemed to help him along), and he got his top surgery and was free of constricting binders.

When the explosion happened, well, Cole’s world was flipped once again. Maybe Gabe had been delusional, maybe he was just saying what Cole wanted to hear, maybe he was wrong. Maybe he just wanted some stupid kid with no future or past to follow him blindly into hell, just another pawn in the grand scheme of things.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for Cole to get his head straight again, many painfully silent nights where only his own whimpers and sobs would keep him company.

“Sometimes,” he answers quietly, truthfully. “But compared to what I was and where I was in Deadlock? I’d take all them bad days in a heartbeat.” Hana gave a slow nod, seemingly slipping into her own thoughts. “Is there problems at home?” Cole asked softly, prodding.

Hana tensed but slowly gave a small nod. “My parents were divorced long before I could talk, and my dad… well, he… you know…”

Cole’s heart broke as his anger threatened to boil over. How dare he do that to Hana, how dare . But, right now, she didn’t need his anger, she needed someone who got it, who understood. So instead, he rose to his feet, took the handful of steps to his couch, and sat down beside her. “I get’cha, you don’t gotta say anything else.” Hana nodded, her eyes clouded with the threat of tears. All it took was Cole gently putting an arm around her to pull her in for them to start rolling down her cheeks. “Yer alright sugar, yer gonna be alright.”

Hana collapsed into his chest, gripping the back of his shirt so tightly he was sure that it would rip, but he held her just as fiercely, trying to soothe her by gently rocking them side to side. He felt guilty he was unable to do more, but each person lived through their own experiences, their own lives. Cole never had to deal with a parent not loving him for who he was; his momma was just glad he was alive and safe, and he never knew his biological father.

Together, they sat there. Cole eventually began to quietly hum some old song his momma used to sing to put him to sleep at night, continuing to rock them for as long as Hana needed. If she was here for five minutes or five hours , it didn’t matter to him as long as she knew someone, even all the way out here, was in her corner.

.:.

Quietly, Hanzo made his way down to Cassidy’s room, his eyes still vaguely red and his soul feeling raw.

Once the apologies were said and done, Genji had allowed for Hanzo to just… hug him. It had been soothing to feel Genji rub at his back, no doubt able to feel Hanzo shaking like a leaf in the wind. Eventually, the physical contact was gone and Hanzo was left alone again with his touch-starved self.

Genji had claimed that he wanted to go hang out with Lúcio, Hanzo figuring it was more along the lines of getting away from him. He didn’t blame his brother, not really. Hanzo knew he was irritating, a stick in the mud. He knew he followed the rules and commands given as much as possible, never wavering in the face of his loyalty.

Except once, and it had been when he saved Genji that night.

Hanzo shook the thought clear from his head, slowing his steps as he neared Cassidy’s room. He half wondered what the cowboy was up to and if he would be bothering him by asking to spend time with one another.

Now he grew nervous, biting his lip as he stopped and stared at the door. What if he was bothering Cassidy? What if Zenyatta was right? Was Cassidy just a ticking time bomb, waiting for the right moment to up and explode? Vanish without a trace? Vanish without telling Hanzo?

He’ll leave you , is what Zenyatta had said, they’ll all leave you .

And Hanzo supposed the omnic was right. Afterall, when was the last time Hanzo even had friends?

When he was younger, he was briefly in a private school where he had a different last name and a nondescript car without the family name or symbol arrived to escort him to and from home. It had slipped, once, that his father’s name was Sojiro, that his house was in Hanamura.

He had thought nothing of it, and neither had his friends, but the next day at school, everyone avoided him. Within the week, he was pulled and was given different tutors to learn from at home. Hanzo would never have to leave the castle again if he didn’t want to, Sojiro and the elders ensured that.

Hanzo never bothered with friends after that, why would he? If his standoffish attitude didn’t scare them away, his last name would. It was pointless, a losing battle. One could argue the servants and guards on the estate were his friends, but Hanzo thought they didn’t count; they were on the family’s payroll after all. It would be foolish to not make friends with your employer’s son, especially when that employer was the kingpin of the local dominant yakuza.

But he was an adult now, as was Cassidy, and the cowboy didn’t seem to mind the brand on his right shoulder or his last name. It was a nice change, but one that he was sure wouldn’t last. Why would it? Once Overwatch got what they wanted, there was no further need for Cassidy to even look at Hanzo. Just another piece on the chessboard, another mission well done.

Zenyatta was right, as were the elders who spoke something similar but much crueller. Of course they were right, why wouldn’t they be? They wanted what was best for the clan and those who shared the Shimada name, so why wouldn’t they be right?

Hanzo glanced to the door again, subconsciously bringing a hand up to rub at his tattooed arm.

Maybe they were right, that Cassidy would leave him, but until that point, wasn’t it enough to just bask in the warmth the cowboy so readily gave?

Cassidy had never really been an enemy, even right from their first meeting in the American’s own room. His voice had been easy and laid back; he had spoken calmly and rationally. It had also helped that Sombra had given him the tip moments before Genji was returned to their cell in Talon, that when Overwatch came, to look for her friend named ‘Cassidy’.

He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, but Sombra… well, she hadn’t ever lied to him. She withheld information or asked for a higher price point, but she had never lied to the Shimada’s or Hanzo.

“Athena?” He called out softly, waiting to hear the familiar chime that came with her acknowledgement.

“ Yes, Shimada-sama? ”

Hanzo hesitated for a moment, was any of this even worth it? He was always the last to put in any sort of effort for any type of relationship, but if this was all just temporary, what was the harm in making first contact?

“Is… where is Cassidy?”

“ He is in his room ,” came her response, much quicker than his question had come. “ He is currently speaking with Agent Song, would you like me to notify him that you’ve been standing right outside his door for the past several minutes? ”

Hanzo startled, suddenly glancing around as he took a few steps back. “ Excuse me?” Hanzo couldn’t recall the last time someone other than Genji had sassed him, and what made it worse was that it was the AI. It didn’t help that this was the first time he called upon her after seeing Cassidy do it endlessly. Athena, what time is it this, and Athena, where’s so-and-so that.

The AI remained silent, Hanzo letting out a small huff as he glared at the ceiling. “No, I can knock on the door myself,” and he moved to do just that until Athena let out a different tone of chime, higher pitched with a different melody.

“ Give them a few more minutes, I’ll inform you when .” As if he would listen to an AI, but the information made him curious enough that he rationalised that he wasn’t listening to Athena, instead giving Cassidy more time with Miss Song.

“I’m not doing this for you,” he muttered in Japanese.

“ I’m quite aware .” Athena snarked right back in Japanese, making Hanzo frown.

Quietly, he leaned against the wall opposite of Cassidy’s door, arms crossed over his chest. He waited there quietly for a few long minutes until Athena let out her usual chime. Not giving her a moment to speak, he stood up straight and moved to the door, giving his normal two knocks as he waited.

He could hear Cassidy call through the door before there was the sound of very minor shuffling. Soon enough, the door slid open to reveal Miss Song, her eyes red and face blotchy. She gave a half-hearted peace sign with a tired but content smile before worming her way between Hanzo and the doorframe before he could move back to give her room.

As she took off down the hall, Hanzo turned his attention back to Cassidy’s room, watching the cowboy move around and straighten out his place.

“Was I interrupting something?”

Cassidy glanced over before returning to fixing the blanket along the back of his couch. “Maybe?” There wasn’t very much confidence in his voice, but Cassidy continued on after a moment. “Asked me for advice, ended up bein’ a counsellor.”

Hanzo let out an amused huff as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning into the doorframe. Already, he could feel the tension leaving him, his rubbed-raw soul starting to piece itself back together. “I,” he paused, glancing down at the floor. “I hope it is okay if I can ask for your time this afternoon.”

Cassidy stopped with his tidying as he looked up, head cocked to the side like some dog. “What’d Genji say?” There was a tone of… protectiveness in Cassidy’s voice that he elected to ignore, though it was harder to ignore the warmth in his chest.

Instead, he gave a small wave of his hand, dismissing the concern. “Nothing that really mattered. It was instead our Master on the phone.”

“Phone?”

Hanzo stared at Cassidy for a moment, and suddenly there was a minor frown that wanted to pull at his lips. “Lúcio gave Genji a phone, I do not know when , but he contacted our Master today and it has left me feeling…”

Instead of finishing his sentence, he gave a half-hearted gesture, hoping Cassidy would understand.

“I get’cha, darlin’.” Hanzo let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had held in. “If ya want, we got plenty of burners lyin’ around, don’t think Winston’ll miss any.”

Hanzo let out a hum, nodding in agreement as Cassidy made his way over. “Thank you, Cassidy.” The cowboy gave him an easy smile, tipping an imaginary hat that had Hanzo letting out a snort. “Though, while on the subject,” Hanzo started, turning serious once more, “why were we not given the option to officially have one sooner?” Hanzo was sure he already knew the answer; why give two assassins a phone when they have an entire clan looking for them?

Cassidy sheepishly glanced to the floor, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “They’re worried ‘bout you two phonin’ home and givin’ our cords to come get’cha.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. “I willingly give them money and they are worried about retaliation.” He scoffed at his own sentence. “That is some foolish plan Genji would have, he hardly knows when to stop while he is ahead.” Hanzo also kept the fact both brothers had trackers on them to himself, retaliation much easier than Cassidy would ever expect.

Cassidy let out a snort, giving a small grin. “Yeah, that ‘bout sums it up.” They were quiet for a moment before Cassidy quickly and quietly spoke up again. “Err, ya can’t tell anyone y’all got phones; me and Lúc’ll be in deep shit.”

He nodded, figuring as much. The last thing Hanzo wanted was different handlers for himself or Genji. “Of course, I am very good at keeping secrets.” He couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips or the teasing tone from his voice, Cassidy perking right back up as he gave his own grin.

The cowboy suddenly moved closer, raising an arm to lean against the wall as he looked down at Hanzo. He could feel his cheeks heat up suddenly, staring up at Cassidy with his best aloof expression as he tensed. “Wanna keep another?” Cassidy drawled out, slow and… flirty.

Not that he didn’t normally talk like that, Hanzo quickly and quietly amended to himself. This was normal, absolutely normal, no he would not look deeper into it. Good ol’ normal Cassidy back at it again, nothing amiss here.

“I… I suppose I would need to know the secret before I agree.” Cassidy looked like a predator as he flashed a toothy grin, Hanzo barely able to see the taller one gain a hint of flush to his cheeks.

Cassidy leaned in even closer, Hanzo suddenly dizzy as their breath mixed. This was too much, too soon. He… he supposed that was what he had hoped would come of this friendship eventually, but it was too soon after the phone call; too soon after Master Zenyatta informed Hanzo that the people he pursued here were useless.

“I’m great at smugglin’ things, and I think I could get ya off base for a couple hours.”

Oh .

Cassidy leaned back then, his grin with slightly less teeth. Hanzo was hesitant to say he was disappointed, but it may have left a tiny hole where there hadn’t been one before.

“Did you not just say if you were to give me a phone—”

“I know what I said,” Cassidy interrupted, causing Hanzo to huff. “But I reckon a night out on the town would do ya some good.”

“I believe you forgot the fact I am a prisoner until my cheque book arrives.”

“Technically, yer my ‘ward’, and I say we should go out.”

Both briefly fell silent, Hanzo doing his best to not blush, instead turning and giving a sharp nod. “Very well, but do not think for one moment I will not throw you to the wolves should Winston ask where we went.”

Cassidy just chuckled, brushing past Hanzo to reach for his hat and serape hung up on the hooks beside him. “Don’t you worry yer purdy lil’ head ‘bout Winston; he ain’t gonna do anythin’ even if he finds out.” Hanzo felt his cheeks heat up slightly, but he just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

Together, they made their way through the maze. Thankfully, this time around, Hanzo was a welcomed guest, though he still caught the odd glare here and there. It didn’t bother him, and why should it? He knew his place was above them, so he paid them no mind.

Cassidy, on the other hand, appeared antsy each time they passed by someone. He only relaxed when they rounded a corner, his shoulders slumping and his boots letting out a louder jingle. Hanzo wanted to comment on it, but he never quite worked up the courage for the words to leave his throat. The cowboy caught him with his mouth open, an eyebrow quirked up before Hanzo abruptly clicked his mouth shut and waved Cassidy off. He received a halfhearted shrug as the cowboy led on.

Eventually, they came to a storage room-turned-garage; several hovercars and hovertrucks seated neatly in the makeshift bays, several pieces of machinery like forklifts settled along the edges. One hovercar near the end of the room had the hood popped, but otherwise the space was neat and clean.

“Which car?” Hanzo asked as Cassidy led them into the garage.

His question was met by a smirk tossed over Cassidy’s shoulder, the cowboy seemingly picking up the pace as he headed towards the furthest bay. “I ain’t one for cars and trucks, got somethin’ else in mind.” Hanzo was cautiously curious, wanting to keep pestering Cassidy for an answer but instead just nodded and kept his mouth shut.

Soon, Cassidy came to a stop, Hanzo’s mouth dropping open slightly as they stood in front of an old-age motorcycle. The bike was a deep blue, clearly well used if the worn treads on the tires and scratched paint was anything to go by, but very clearly loved with how bright the untouched paint shone, how new and well-oiled the leather of the seat was.

Hanzo was curious how Cassidy had stumbled upon an old-age motorcycle, especially considering most everything from the public documents said Overwatch was green energy. Models like this were gone as soon as the hoverbikes came in, especially when fewer and fewer places offered gas. As far as Hanzo knew, long before he was born, there had been a buyback program for anything running on fuel. A ploy to ensure most bustling places ran on something green, and it had mostly worked. Reading old classified files revealed most of the scrap was used during the Omnic Crisis, the rest being repurposed for whatever new thing was made that year.

Quietly, he watched as Cassidy went around the bike, grabbing a helmet from the wall, and tossed it Hanzo’s way. It was an easy enough catch, Cassidy having lopped it, but Hanzo waited for Cassidy to pick up his own. When the cowboy didn’t, instead pressing his hat down further on his head, Hanzo abruptly shoved the helmet towards Cassidy.

“No, you wear this, you are the driver.”

Cassidy smirked, arms crossing over his chest. “Aww, ya worried ‘bout me, darlin’?” Hanzo scoffed.

“Hardly.”

“Then you’d be just fine wearin’ it yourself.” Hanzo opened his mouth to argue, but Cassidy cut him off. “‘Sides, if we crash, Angie likes me a helluva lot more than you.” He was teasing the archer, Hanzo knew that much, and the cowboy seemed ready to keep up the banter should Hanzo take the bait.

So, instead of the lighthearted arguing that would take up all of the night, Hanzo let out a huff as he rolled his eyes and slid the helmet on over his head, conceding this time. The visor was tinted to the point Hanzo wondered if Cassidy could even see his face, but he just gestured to the cowboy and waited for him to get on the bike.

Cassidy let out a chuckle but climbed on, producing a key and starting up the engine. Hanzo waited for Cassidy’s signal, unable to keep his mind from wandering to the motorcycle, to earlier in the evening.

How many others had seen the motorcycle and been allowed to ride on it?

The only people you can trust are each other.

Was he the first?

Forget about Cassidy, Hanzo; there’s nothing for you there.

One in a long list of names?

They won’t be able to return with you.

The only one Cassidy trusted with this?

He holds no loyalty to anyone but himself.

“Y’comin’?”

He’ll leave you.

Hanzo’s focus returned to the gunslinger, his chest beginning to ache as Cassidy flashed him a small, charming smile. Thankfully, the helmet would hide his conflict as he gave a nod, hoisting a leg over the bike as he sat behind Cassidy.

He fully intended to keep his hands on the seat, to keep his hands as far away from Cassidy as possible, but when the bike jerked forward, he caught himself on the cowboy.

Cassidy just let out a chuckle as he glanced over his shoulder. “I know I’m fat, but you got long enough arms to wrap ‘round my gut.”

Hanzo let out a snort, pointedly pinching Cassidy’s arm gently before doing as he was told. When he finally rested his helmeted head against Cassidy’s shoulder blades, they were far from the side gate and well out of sight.

As he relaxed into Cassidy’s back, watching the landscape change as they headed down to the dock, he couldn’t stop hearing Genji in the back of his head.

I’m glad you found a friend.

Closing his eyes, Hanzo let out a tiny sigh, and in Japanese, he whispered; so am I.

Chapter Text

The trip down to the docks was mostly uneventful, Hanzo kept his head against Cassidy’s back as he looked out into the ocean. It had surprised him that the path had been so close to a cliffedge, but any thought of potential injury or death was cast far from Hanzo’s mind.

He felt… safe. Safer than he’d felt in years .

Cassidy slowed to a crawl as they came down to the docks. A lone agent behind a glass window in a little square outpost, looking at the two of them as they came up to the pole that stretched out across their path. It would hardly stop anyone from entering or leaving, flimsy looking and holding on by what looked like one bolt, but Hanzo wasn’t in the business of breaking down a shitty little barricade this evening.

“Where you off to?” The man behind the glass asked, looking quite bored as he kept his eyes down on the tablet in front of him.

“Headin’ mainland to do some bar hoppin’.” Cassidy replied easily, the man looking up at the western drawl in muted surprise.

His attention then turned to Hanzo, the assassin subconsciously tightening his arms around Cassidy’s middle as he stared at the man through the tinted visor of his helmet. “Who’s with you?”

It was over, Hanzo was sure of it. Those back in the base would be alerted that Cassidy was trying to get Hanzo onto the mainland, both of them getting in trouble, Cassidy more so than himself. They would be locked up further to prevent anything like this happening again.

“One of the new recruits, shy fella who I thought could do with some loosenin’ up.”

The guard stared at Hanzo for a moment longer before he nodded, leaning over to a panel with a handful of buttons. “Stay safe out there, you still have a bounty on your head.”

Cassidy barked out an easy laugh, beginning to roll the bike forward. “Don’t I know it,” he gave a little tip of his hat to the guard then. “Take care, Nickels.”

“You too, Cassidy.”

Eventually they made their way onto a ferry, small in nature but the cowboy and archer were able to find a quiet place to sit so Hanzo could remove his helmet. He used the reflection in the face shield to inspect his hair, letting out a tsk when he saw how dishevelled it looked.

Cassidy had only laughed and offered to fix it once they were off the boat, Hanzo shyly agreeing.

By the time they entered the small town, the local bars were open and well into their service. Cassidy pulled into a spot along the road, the cowboy laughing as Hanzo huffed, the two of them struggling with Hanzo’s helmet hair.

The first bar was nothing special, and neither were the next four, but the sixth bar was darker, had louder music, and the drinks tasted better. Hanzo wasn’t sure if that was because of how many shots he had or if the bar had been something truly special, but he was having too much fun to think further.

Absently, he thought that this is what Genji meant when he said clubs made him feel alive.

Hanzo was quiet as Cassidy rose to his feet to get them yet another round, nodding in agreement with an easy smile that was readily returned. This was also what Genji must have meant when he said the key to a good bar was the people, Hanzo was sure of it.

While he watched the sway of Cassidy’s hips as the cowboy headed towards the bar, a small, almost unnoticed little twinge came to his arm. It would’ve gone completely unnoticed had a chill not crept up his spine, forcing him to attention.

Hanzo paused, waited.

He waited for it to be a passing feeling, perhaps someone had stared at him too long, or maybe someone was passing behind him--

His heart began to race as he faintly felt that pulse of energy deep in his chest begin to gently thrum, the chill returning and slowly tugging at the muscles in his left arm. No, it’s been months . He thought it had been a fluke, that O’Deorain hadn’t unlocked something horrible and powerful within the brothers. He thought it had been a fever dream, surely they had been riddled with all sorts of drugs and sedatives. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.

The panic was slowly rising as he rapidly searched for Cassidy within the crowd, that thrum of energy moving from his chest to his tattoo. The freeze he had first felt with them was back, Hanzo feeling his hands shake as he saw his own breath in the far too hot bar. His fear climbed higher until a hand clapped him on the shoulder, turning to find Cassidy had returned with two more beers.

“They ain’t got any of the good stuff—”

“Bathroom,” Hanzo blurted out, rising to his feet as Cassidy sent a confused look.

Without waiting for a response or explaining himself further, Hanzo turned and b-lined straight to the bathroom, his breaths coming out more rapidly, still producing little puffs of smoke as if it was winter.

He would just hide away in a stall until the feeling was gone, until the duo was gone. He wasn’t sure if they could manifest on their own, at least without a conductor. Genji had told him they could, that was how they managed to summon them for their pseudo jail break. His brother had also mentioned that he had used his own hand to summon his dragon, and what if Hanzo had just unknowingly done that? What if they were ready to destroy this bar? Destroy Cassidy--

As if his prayers had been answered, there were two bathrooms, both single units so he could be alone with his thoughts and the incoming panic attack. Perhaps if he was lucky, no one would come knocking and bother him until he could soothe himself enough to hurry Cassidy back to the motorcycle.

Eyeing up two patrons making their way down the hall towards him, Hanzo swiftly ducked into the one bathroom that was left ajar, quick to shut and lock the door just in time to hear one of the patrons complain outside. He gave his head a small shake before making his way towards the sink, intending to splash his face and begin talking himself down. Something he hadn’t done in years. Not since that night--

The bathroom wasn’t anything to write home about. A standard sink and toilet with a hand dryer. It was cleaner than Hanzo imagined it would be, nothing like their clubs back in Hanamura, but clean enough that it was tolerable.

Hanzo let out a heavy sigh as he rolled up his sleeves, turning on the sink to give his shaking hands a quick wash. Without touching the taps, he leaned down and cupped some water into his hands, bringing it up to give his face a splash. “Breathe, you’re fine,” he mumbled in Japanese to himself. “I’m too old for panic attacks.” He growled out, deciding that degrading himself would help set his mind straight.

He was too old to be sneaking out, too old to be bar hopping, too old to have stupid little crushes, too old to down alcohol like it was his last drink. For a man who was drugged after a similar outing, Hanzo either thought he hadn’t learned his lesson or he simply trusted Cassidy too much to protect him.

Either way, it didn’t matter. What mattered was Cassidy wasn’t nearly as drunk as him and was the only one who could get them home since Hanzo had never learned to drive something that wasn’t hover-adjacent.

Hanzo let out a heavy sigh, resting his hands on either side of the sink and he leaned over the porcelain, head tipping down as he watched the water run off his nose and down the drain. It was… soothing watching the droplets. His breath was no longer visible, that thrum of energy dying down as suddenly as it had appeared.

The relief was instant, wondering if he had imagined it after all, but his eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he saw a pale blue glow lighting the sink.

He glanced up and behind, looking at the ceiling to find it was white lights, nothing remotely giving off a blue tone. When he turned to look at the mirror, he almost screamed as a woman’s face was replaced with his own. Her long hair was a dark brown and tied up into a messy bun, her lipstick a pale red and smeared over onto her left cheek. Her skin was darker than his but lighter than Cassidy, her nose hooked with an indent much like his own near the bridge.

The blue glow was from her small almond shaped eyes, or was it his own eyes…? Regardless, her eyes were blue, neon blue, a familiar blue--

Hanzo snapped his eyes shut, giving his head a shake as he took a handful of steps back. Too much alcohol, that had to be it. After not having a single sip for nearly a year, his body was reacting poorly, that had to be it. It was a panic attack brought on by his sudden alcoholism, that had to be it. There couldn’t be anything else, there couldn’t be.

He rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep his breath even, trying not to think too hard.

When Hanzo opened his eyes again, staring straight ahead at the mirror, all he saw was himself. His mother’s eyes and lips, his father’s black hair and defined brows, his lips unpainted, his skin his own. The blue glow was gone, and Hanzo was thankful. It was just the alcohol, just a bad night, just—

Climb the mountain .

Hanzo nearly let out a shriek, stumbling and crashing into the wall as the head of a dragon pulled up and out from the tattoo on his arm.

Reclaim your birthright .

A second head pulled itself from his arm, the two dragon heads beginning to weave with each other as their long, sinewy blue bodies continued to pull themselves from his arm.

The fear was nearly instantly replaced with anger, glaring at the two heads as more of their bodies pulled up from his arm. “Oh, so now’s the time when I’m ready; drunk and in a bar thousands of kilometres from home!” He hissed in Japanese, clenching his hands into fists as the two dragons seemed to stop their exit from his arm.

The fear and dread that had made him flee to this bathroom was gone in an instant upon realising they had only come to speak their riddles; he hadn’t summoned them at all.

Together, the dragons spoke, their voice as one. We are trapped , they explained, continuing their winding path with each other. We cannot contact you outside times of need .

“And this is a time of need.” Hanzo grumbled, distrustful of the dragons. How could he even begin to trust something that refused to speak plainly, to give Hanzo instruction instead of loose threats and empty promises.

They had come up with a handful of theories in their cell, the leading one being that O’Deorain was right, that they did have ancient spirits tied to their family. The theories related as to why they weren’t ready were less concrete. Was it because they were malnourished? That while O’Deorain had unlocked... something , the brothers had to meet the dragons half way? Hanzo didn’t know, and frankly up until several moments ago, he hadn’t cared and cast the idea aside. He didn’t need some spirits to make his life easier.

Sure, they had made it an infinitely smoother process for Overwatch to extract them, but they had come prepared for a fight anyways.

A headache suddenly and inexplicably grew in a matter of seconds, the dragons stopping their spinning as one voice came through clear, feminine and furious .

You are an ungrateful brat , we are ancient beings tied to your vessel and you dare think us as lesser beings .

A snarl came from the other dragon, a stoic and masculine voice taking over from the feminine one. You would rather live in ignorance than know our history, your history . The one who had spoken turned to the other, his mouth ticking up into a snarl. Sister, we should return to whence we came, the humans have not changed .

Before the feminine dragon could answer, Hanzo quickly spoke up, pushing through his headache. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please, I want to understand what you are, please, tell me how.” The two dragons stared him down, their voices speaking together once again as one settled on either of his shoulders.

Climb the mountain, reclaim your birthright .

“What does that mean ?”

The masculine voice spoke first, directly in his ear. We have been forced to stay dormant for many centuries . He whispered, a rumble vibrating through his voice.

The feminine one spoke next, that anger still present. We were suppressed because they feared us .

“Who feared you?”

The elders .

Hanzo wanted to let out a manic laugh, instead rubbing at his forehead to try and soothe the headache. “Why is it always the elders?” He muttered, instead giving his head a shake as he turned to look first to the dragon on his left shoulder then to the one on his right. “Well, how would you propose I climb this mountain?” He paused. “ Which mountain do you speak of?”

The one that divides your left from your right , they spoke as one again, rejoining to twirl around one another. The one that separates your head from your soul, the one that you have built yourself .

He gave pause then, glancing down to his feet before looking in the mirror. “Spiritual then.” In lieu of a response, the two dragons simply rumbled, something that sounded akin to a purr more than a growl.

It was likely that Genji would also need to climb his own mountain then, but that left Hanzo wondering how he was even meant to spiritually look within himself. He meditated more often than not, so clearly that wasn’t what they had meant. He wasn’t sure how to be more spiritual than he already was--

“Master Zenyatta,” he breathed out, the dragons continuing their purring. “Do you mean Master Zenyatta?”

We know not of the one named ‘Zenyatta’ , the masculine voice started.

We know of the omnic’s master: the Iris . The feminine voice finished.

That was the solution then, all he had to do was call Master Zenyatta, ask for his help—

One of the dragons moved to circle around Hanzo now, their body still twirling around itself as they interrupted Hanzo’s thoughts. You can’t hope for help without your master present . He said, Hanzo about to complain about the riddles when the masculine voice continued. The omnic’s body is only a conduit, you must seek the true self of the Iris .

“What does that mean ? Please, speak plainly!” As the second dragon rounded on him, definitely the feminine one about to ridicule him, he managed to stumble on and save face. “I-I want to help, I want to set you two free, but I can’t unless you give me more to work with.”

Climb the mountain, reclaim your birthright .

Hanzo was going to scream, and as he opened his mouth to chew them out, demand he get real answers, the masculine voice became louder, more singular as the feminine kept repeating the mantra.

Open your mind and gaze into the Iris .

In his mind’s eye, the sudden and vivid image of an eye opening and staring back at him made Hanzo freeze. The eye was shining a golden light, the iris a rich golden yellow and seemed to stare right through him. The eye wasn’t connected to anything, no skin around it and no lashes to bat.

As soon as it had appeared, the image was gone, Hanzo able to feel his heart racing, his lungs struggling to fill. “H-h-how…?”

His head was quiet, the room he was in was silent sans the electric hum of the lights and the pounding bass coming from outside the bathroom. Hanzo sharply looked down at his arm, rolling up his sleeve further to see his tattoo wasn’t glowing. There wasn’t even a trace of the dragons, as if he had imagined the whole thing.

Hanzo quietly groaned, rubbing his head as he closed his eyes tightly. It was all too much, everything was too much. He wanted things to go back to how they were, before all this spirit dragon nonsense, before they were kidnapped, before they decided to go out for drinks for his birthday.

Managing to calm himself down enough to attempt to make his way back to Cassidy, Hanzo gave himself a nod and turned towards the door.

He could do this, all he needed to do was walk back to Cassidy, apologise and make up some excuse about getting sick and that they needed to leave right now, please let them leave right now—

As he opened the door, he was met with a cowboy whose concerned face changed to surprise, one hand raised as if to knock. His spurs clinked as he took a couple steps away from Hanzo, hand lowering to his side. “Mighty sorry darlin’, got worried when you didn’t come back.” The unspoken, I thought you ran , sat heavy between them, but Cassidy didn’t say it so Hanzo wouldn’t address it.

“I apologise,” Hanzo said a touch too sharply to his own ears, his voice softening as he continued. “I felt sick and could not wait.”

For a split second, the look that crossed Cassidy’s face had him begin to panic; he didn’t believe him. The cowboy had seen through the lie, Hanzo still too frazzled to come up with a convincing cover story.

“Well shoot darlin’, that ain’t good! Wanna head back?”

Hanzo stared at him, confused and surprised that Cassidy wouldn’t call him on his lie, he clearly caught on if that look was anything to go off of, but still. He played along.

“That… that would be preferable, yes.”

Cassidy nodded, taking another step back as he gestured with a sweeping arm for Hanzo to take the lead.

And so he did.

They walked back to the motorcycle in complete silence, Cassidy just a step behind Hanzo but always in his peripheral vision. He thought on calling out the behaviour, and had he not just experienced what he did in the bathroom, he likely would have.

Though, admittedly, it was deserved. The poor cowboy had thought Hanzo had run off, so it was only fair he was kept where Cassidy could see him.

Between Hanzo running off to the bathroom and now, Cassidy seemed to have sobered up considerably. He wanted to ask, maybe see if Cassidy had been downing glasses of water and shoving as much food in his mouth as possible, but decided against it. Now that the adrenaline from seeing the dragons had died down, Hanzo could feel himself sway slightly, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. Surely Cassidy would feel something similar soon enough, he just hoped it would hold out until they got back.

They made it back to the motorcycle soon enough, Hanzo grabbing his helmet from the seat while Cassidy fished for the keys as he swung one long leg over and sat down. “Just need a smoke then we’re good to go.” He explained, Hanzo just giving a clipped nod as he waited.

With the keys out, Hanzo watched as he produced a cigarillo from the breast pocket of his shirt, an old age lighter from his pants pocket being flicked open and ignited.

Hanzo felt his mouth go dry then, desperately trying to act normal as Cassidy took in a drag, holding the smoke in his lungs as he flicked the lighter closed and slid it smoothly back into his pocket. The smoke refused to be released for a couple more heartbeats before Cassidy exhaled up into the sky.

Never before had he wanted to press his lips to another person, inhale their secondhand smoke, but suddenly, jarringly, he saw the appeal. He saw the god damn appeal and pushed the forsaken thought as far from his mind as possible. It was nothing but a fantasy, it would only ever be a fantasy.

But… but maybe…

“I…” As their eyes met, Hanzo couldn’t help but feel the walls he had built around his heart slowly begin to chip. There wasn’t even a hint of judgement, of anger. “I apologise for ruining your evening.”

Cassidy gave a small smile then, one that reached his eyes, one that was sincere, as he relaxed into his seat. “Don’t you worry ‘bout it none.” Hanzo gave a nod, moving to place his helmet on his head to end the conversation, when Cassidy continued. “I… I enjoyed the night with ya, don’t gotta lot of people who’d wanna,” he paused, suddenly biting his lip as a faint blush crossed Cassidy’s face.

Hanzo felt his own cheeks begin to heat up as he subconsciously leaned in. “People who would want what?” He asked softly, their eyes meeting and Hanzo felt himself unable to look away.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, he couldn’t, but he was starstruck by just how handsome Cole Cassidy was. He was rough around the edges, most men in his profession were, but he looked happy. The crows feet at the corner of his eyes crinkled with each crooked smile, his laugh was deep and rumbled like a storm on the horizon. It was true, he had a touch more fat around his middle than the others who had answered the Recall, but Hanzo couldn’t help but preen at the thought that there was simply more to hold.

Genji, as much as he claimed to love all, was a fairly shallow man. He had turned up his nose when he saw Cassidy, but that was fine with Hanzo. His brother clearly couldn’t see Cole’s beauty like Hanzo could, and even now, knowing better, he wanted nothing more than to surge forward. He wanted to press kisses to Cole’s lips, to his nose and cheeks, to his neck, down his chest.

He wanted to let his hands explore Cole’s body, map out his flesh, find all those worrisome scars. He wanted to learn what each mark on his body meant, when and why he got them, how his own lips could soothe the memories.

Hanzo wanted to tell Cole how he felt, how he was the first to slowly wear down the towering walls Hanzo had built around himself. How he had been looking for this feeling, spent countless dates trying to find someone who would light the spark within.

But yet…

He holds no loyalty to anyone but himself , Master Zenyatta had said.

He’ll leave you .

“I…” Hanzo was sharply pulled from his reverie, his eyes darting down to Cole… to Cassidy’s lips as he licked them. He desperately wanted a taste, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Hanzo broke the spell himself, quickly replacing the broken parts of his wall as he stood up straighter. He looked away then, nervously rotating the helmet in his hands. “We… we should head back, before we are missed.” Hanzo said instead, ignoring the ten thousand other words he wanted to say. Ignoring how… uncaring his tone was, how robotic he sounded.

The spell seemed to finally break for Cassidy, too, as he blinked and looked forward. “Er, yeah, reckon so.” The cowboy chuckled then, sounding strained as he snuffed out the cigarillo on his metal arm. “Don’t need Winston on my back for bein’ off base for so long.”

Hanzo hummed in agreement, ignoring the ache in his chest as he slid the helmet on and got on the back of the motorcycle without a word. There was nothing left for him to say, at least that wouldn’t make him sound like a lovesick fool.

Cassidy would never want him; no one had so far, so why would Cassidy be any different? No, instead he would just repair any crack Cassidy seemed to make in his lonely foundation, keep him at an arm’s length.

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to recover if he let Cole in, so he simply wouldn’t.