Work Text:
Alexithymia; also known as emotional blindness is a neurophysiological phenomenon characterized by significant challenge in recognizing, expressing, and describing one’s own emotions - typically seen in people along the spectrum.
Moira was diagnosed at an early age- her always stoic tone, her meltdowns if her routine was messed up, her insanely strong interests that she seemed particularly defensive for- it was obvious for most.
Moira never minded however. Her parents on the other hand, weren’t the most fond of having an autistic child. They had denied the possibility every time a professional would bring it up, change the conversation if it was heading in that direction, screamed and yelled that their genius of a child wasn’t autistic, yet they caved- and Moira got her diagnosis.
This never changed much for Moira, younger or older. It never bothered her, though it might’ve put people off around her, but who is she to care about what people think about her- especially now at the ripe age of 42.
By this point, Moira’s paper on modification in genetics was released. What was supposed to be the kickstart of her career, quickly changed it to be the reason of her downfall. She struggled after this point. Unemployed and alone; anger and resentment filled her in a sense she could not describe. Overwatch casted her and the work she spent her life to cultivate aside. Despite that, she returned under blackwatch after being offered a position. Truly, the only reason she accepted the offer was not only for the resources she was promised to continue her unethical activities, but also for the sake of rubbing in the fact she could continue her work at all into the faces of overwatch’s higher ups: and a particular angelic medic.
Moira was known to be petty that way.
Genji Shimada : one of two sons of Sojiro Shimada, was a recent recruit. Found half dead and sliced from head to toe by overwatch, most notably, by Dr. Angela Ziegler. Moira had no intention of caring for what happened to the son, though she was told every part of it.
Apparently- the boy had some troubles with his older brother. His brother is the one who left him for dead.
Unfortunate, was all Moira could think as she sat in a swivel chair in a meeting room, the hardly noticeable flickering of the protector causing a tinge of annoyance in the Irish woman. Gabriel Reyes, and an annoyingly bright Angela Ziegler sat with her. Jack Morrison stood in front of the projected image of a model of Genji. Rather, the plans overwatch had for Genji. Moira stared at the projection studying the image, a complete cybernetic version of the currently impaired Genji stared right back at her. Moira was silent as Morrison spoke explaining the diagrams shown. The geneticist didn’t wish to be there, but she kept her mind from wondering as she gently stroked her nail on her left pointer with the pointer on her right. The smooth feeling of the keratin coming in connection with her skin kept her engaged.
Moira’s undivided attention wasn’t captured until Morrison said the words “blackwatch.” Her ears perked as she looked over at the blonde soldier, his chest puffed with a certain confidence he always seemed to have.
Morrison explained to the room his decision. Judging by both Gabriel and Angela’s reaction, he had not informed them.
Genji was to be cybernetically put back together- then transferred into blackwatch. Gabriel, although his reaction just a small grunt of irritation, did not protest. Angela, on the other hand did.
She slowly pushed back in her chair, standing up and patted her clothes straight- immediately gaining the gaze of everyone in the room.
“With all due respect, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Angela spoke confidently, looking at Jack with her arms crossing over her chest.
Moira unintentionally made a face reminiscent of a scowl as her eyes scanned over the sculpture that is Dr. Ziegler in front of her.
“He’s going to go through a lot, physically and mentally. Being put into blackwatch as soon as he’s ‘fixed’?” Angela raised a brow to add emphasis on the last word.
“That’s cruel. He needs time to adjust.”
Jack grunted before nodding his head, acknowledging her concern as a valid one.
“Trust me doc, I’ve thought about all that.” He explains, switching the slide that was being presented to another. The slide consisted of bullet points, all the information pertaining to what Angela seemed to be worried about.
Angela seemed almost offended that Morrison babied it down to a simple form for simple consumption- but Moira preferred it this way. Easy to understand, it leaves no room for misunderstanding.
Morrison went on to explain. “Dr. O’Deorain here specializes in genetics. You, do not.” Moira felt a smile tug at her lips, giving the blonde an ephemeral glance- an odd sense of satisfaction brewing inside her to be compared in a higher regard to Overwatch’s Angel. Angela saw.
“I asked you both to be here for a reason. Dr. Ziegler will be in charge of making sure our new recruit is alright in the sense of mentality and overall well-being.” Morrison then looked over in Moira’s direction.
“And you, Dr. O’Deorain, will help in the cybernetical attaching. I’m sure you’re up for the task.” He spoke, seemingly knowing Moira held no care or interest in this soon to be cyber weapon. The ginger nodded, tilting her head towards Angela who seemed agitated about the situation. Perhaps she knew more about Overwatch’s plans for Genji than Moira did. Maybe that’s why she was so against it… Moira felt weird thinking about that.
Only a few days later was Genji moved into a large room filled with equipment needed, cables upon cables keeping him strung up in the air as Moira worked on practically putting a body together from scratch. How Shimada was alive was beyond Moira. She’d be lying if the inquiring thought didn’t plague her mind as she took a week to carefully structure the man together.
For the following month, Angela and Moira were to monitor Genji Shimada and his progress. Angela usually took the liberty of BEING with the cyber-human, while Moira tended to simply be there to alter and tweak whatever needed to be fixed in his new body.
Time and time again would Moira walk by the patient room, seeing Angela’s hand gently placed upon his scarred shoulder. Something felt… off, when she saw the two. A feeling from deep in the pits of her stomach- yet she coudlnt quite put her finger on it.
Moira tended to look at emotions in a logical and educational way. She rationalized everything, never gave herself a chance to simply *feel*. This was simply yet one of those things Moira would try and rationalize- yet wasn’t able too. By textbook definition, it wasn’t anger or sadness or even remorse for the human with a new identity, it was none of that.
It confused the Irish woman. However, it never stopped her from doing her job, that’s what she was here to do after all.
One day, about mid-way through the month, Angela couldn’t make it in time for a check up with Genji. Meaning, Moira had to take it upon herself to do his checkup.
As Moira slipped on plastic gloves that hugged too snuggly around her fingers, she walked into the patient room- the sci fi door making a whooshed sound as it opened. Genji snapped his head towards Moira, seemingly expecting a shorter blonde to be at the door. His expression dropped when he realized it wasn’t Dr. Ziegler- well whatever was left of his face to BE expressive. Moira sighed softly noticing his disappointment.
“Dr. Ziegler can’t see you until later today. I hope I’m sufficient enough in taking some notes for her?” Moira sarcastically remarked, not giving the cyber-human another look as she walked across the room to grab the chair left pushed into the corner, pulling it out in front of Genji. The ginger held onto a clipboard : a list of questions and small tests needed to be done ran down the page that was clipped onto it. Moira sat down with a soft grunt before grabbing a pen that was lodged behind her ear, a satisfying click echoing in the silent room.
Moira began to ask questions, going through the list and making note of Genji’s, albeit, short ended responses. She had only gone through the first four questions before Genji interrupted her mid-sentence of the fifth question. Moira didn’t even register what Genji had cut her off for at first- giving a scowl to herself as she hated when people spoke over her. Over lapsed voices bothered her in a way many other things didn’t.
“When will Angela be back.” Genji demanded rather than asked. “Angela…” Moira echoed back softly, no louder than a whisper. Was Dr. Ziegler always on a first name basis with her patients? The feeling came back, only ten fold. Moira cleared her throat trying to deter herself from these emotions she couldn’t understand, before responding properly.
“Dr. Ziegler,” she corrected “will be here in about an hour. I’m simply trying to get ahead of this for her. May I do that?” Moira acerbically asked, her voice low and stoic- as it normally is.
Genji said nothing. He averted his gaze from Moira which gave her enough of a sign to keep going.
It took about an hour of Genji’s annoyingly short answers and half-assed tests before Moira was finally able to leave him alone. She ran into Angela as she stepped out of the room, a small grunt of surprise leaving both doctor’s mouths. Before the Swiss woman before her could say anything that held meaning, Moira handed her the clipboard full of notes and results from Genji.
“You might want to go talk to your patient, Dr. Ziegler.” She stated flatly, looking over her shoulder at the now closed door of the room. “He seemed to miss you.”
A chest expanding giggle made Moira snap her head back to Angela- who was covering half her face as she laughed at the thought of Shimada missing her.
It made Moira sick. Her eyes narrowed as Angela put the clipboard down, now being able to see a soft blush on her cheeks. A grimace plastered along Moira’s face. Angela payed no mind, it was a common occurrence anyway.
The blonde put her hand on Moira’s forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze before saying her thanks and walking into the room.
Moira stood there for a moment, looking back as she walked in. She had no idea how Angela could put up with him. She dreaded having to work with him later on down the line.
Throughout the month Angela and Genji drew closer and closer- leaving Moira to feel more and more of that unknown feeling. God was it driving her crazy.
Moira was more easily irritated around Angela- more easily provoked compared to when they previously worked together. Moira snapped more at Genji than she had with most anyone, she hardly even knew him. Yet- a feeling similar to dread would surge through her body when she met the gaze of the shimada son.
Moira didn’t understand it, but she understood its effects.
One night as Moira sat in a desk, typing on the technological screen in front of her, Angela popped into the room with a coffee in hand. Moira could feel those blue eyes staring into the back of her head.
“You don’t take breaks, do you?” Angela said in that sing-song voice she tended to have with most people. But Moira wasn’t ‘most people.’ Moira hardly took a glance at the blonde before speaking. “Neither do you. Another coffee, I presume?”
Angela only sighed out a suppressed laugh, putting the mug to her pink lips as she sipped the dark, bitter liquid. It was horrible- but at least it kept her awake. Silence fell between them but Moira could hear by the way Angela shifted- she had something on her mind. Moira KNEW the doctor after all, some bits in ways no one else did.
“You really don’t feel bad for him?” There it is. Moira sighed, pushing away the techno screen before turning in her chair to look at Angela.
“Am I supposed to?” The unflappable woman replied bluntly, raising a brow in interest to the Swiss woman’s words. Angela leaned her hip against a desk, crossing one foot in front of the other. Her figure didn’t go unnoticed, Moira never overlooked it.
“Sometimes I wonder if you’re human.” Angela said with a tilt of her head, her high pony swaying behind her head gracefully. Moira stared at her expressionless. Many people often said that in regards to her autism in an attempt to dehumanize her, yet Moira knew Angela didn’t mean it that way. Despite their tense rivalry, she would never stoop so low as to poke and probe at Moira’s diagnosis as others have.
“He’s a nice guy.”
The feeling is back.
Moira simply shrugged, truly having nothing else to say in regards to her non-existent remorse, now irritated at the mention of their closeness.
“I’m just here to do my job.” She replied before turning back in her chair to face away from Angela. “I’m not here to get cozy with my patients.” She spoke lowly, as she did when she grew agitated with Angela.
The blonde narrowed her eyes as her gaze landed on the back of Moira’s head. She placed her mug down with a thud before crossing her arms. “Cozy?” Angela echoed back to Moira as if daring her to continue her train of thought. Moira hummed to reassure Angela that she had heard her correctly- not that Angela wanted it.
“Just a conclusion anyone could draw from seeing how you two act. He’s like a lost puppy without you.” Moira scoffed at her own analogy in annoyance. She couldn’t shake this feeling that has plagued her this past month. The feeling was a mix of basic emotions Moira could get a general grasp on.
“He doesn’t know anything besides his ‘beautiful Angel.’” Moira practically spat, not realizing how much the irritation she felt crept into her voice.
There was an unnerving silence before Angela spoke, her voice somehow closer to Moira now than it was before.
“Beautiful?” Angela repeated back. The older scientist just knew there was a smug smile on that perfectly aligned face. Moira didn’t realize a compliment had slipped out while she spoke, her body still as she stared at the technological screen while she processed what she said.
“Yes, beautiful.” Moira said in an equally irked tone as her previous words. “Anyone with a good pair of eyes that work can make that observation.” She turned her head over her shoulder, a bit startled to see Angela has gotten closer from behind Moira. Her gaze made it to her face- she was right- Angela had a smug smile. Moira somehow hated yet loved it at the same time. “I’m sure that isn’t the first time you’ve been told?” Moira raised a sharp angled brow at the blonde.
Despite Moira’s blunt attitude towards Angela since pre- omnic crisis, she was always captivated by the looks of the younger scientist. She could still recall the day the two of them met- an eager young scientist was more than ready for the field she was thrusted into without realizing just how severe it’d get. Moira admired the young spirit.
Not just her spirit, but her everything.
Moira found herself admiring not only Dr. Ziegler’s work but her herself. It was hard not to glance across the room to catch the gaze of the woman- though Angela could never hold eye contact the way Moira could. She was always quick to avert her eyes back to whatever she was doing whenever she caught Moira looking. Moira thought it was their playful rivalry and maybe her physical appearance that made her too intimidating to look at.
Moira never thought much of it, considering she believed it to be simple admiration. It wasn’t until, at the time, Angela would become nervous and fidgety around Moira. Her pale skin would turn pink at her cheeks when Moira got close to examine her work, or when their shoulders just hardly grazed each other, or even when they simply stood together talking during a quick break to grab coffee.
The idea of Angela didn’t bother Moira. She actually didn’t mind it at all- maybe even welcomed it.
That went out the window after Moira’s paper was published and she was thrown out. There was no longer playful banter between the two- rather simple opposition.
“No, but hearing that from you?” Angela tilted her head as to get a better look at Moira’s sharp angled face. Moira stared blankly at the blonde, a bit confused on what Angela was talking about. Moira complimented her all the time, albeit, compliments went to her research rather than Angela herself.
Angela smiled amusingly, placing a hand on the back of Moira’s chair as her other went to the edge of the desk Moira sat at. She leaned in by her waist, her perfect face coming in closer.
“Jealous of Genji, are we Dr. O’Deorain?”
Jealousy?
No Moira wasn’t jealous, and even if she was she would never admit it. It wasn’t jealousy Moira was feeling, she’d know.
At least she’d like to think she knew.
Moira’s eyes slowly scanned Angela’s face- taking in those crystal blues that for some odd reason made her heart pound just a tad bit harder than normal. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.” Moira said in a bit of a softer tone, looking at Angela’s hands and how they trapped Moira at her desk. “I see no reason or benefit from being jealous of your subject.” Moira calmly, bluntly expressed. The blonde half rolled her eyes with a scoff of what seemed to be disbelief of Moira’s words.
“For a genius, you never seem to know what your own emotions are.” Angela said in a hushed tone, drawing herself closer to Moira. She took note of this.
“You know why that is.” Moira retorted quickly, not moving away as Angela inched closer. Moira couldn’t pin point the reasoning behind her blood levels rising, or for the feeling of her body tingling as she could smell the sweet perfume the angelic medic seemed to always wear.
Something felt so different about the doctor, yet so familiar. A weird sense of deja vu washed over Moira as Angela looked down at her who for once was shorter than the blonde when she sat down in a chair.
This is almost identical to a moment the two would’ve hypothetically had back years ago, before blackwatch- expect it would be the other way around. Moira the one looming over the smaller figure with a smug look on her face. The one she tended to have when she knew she was right.
Moira wondered if Angela still would get flushed at the thought of her- the thoughts Angela used to whisper in Moira’s ear during work knowing it would distract her for the rest of the day. Up until Moira got her hands on Angela of course.
She wondered if Angela still glances at her across the room, hoping to see Moira’s gaze in return as she once did.
She wondered if Angela still.. liked her.
Liked?
What did it even mean to like someone? Moira didn’t get it.
Too lost in deep thought caused Moira to be a bliss to Angela leaning in closer, her hand had slowly moved from the back of Moira’s chair all the way to the ginger’s cheek. The warm touch of her oddly smooth hands brought Moira back into reality. She blinked in surprise of the touch against her, her eyes darting to Angela’s face.
“Do you understand now?” Angela whispered, referencing to Moira’s inability to understand her own feelings.
Moira didn’t, yet she nodded anyway. Angela knew she was lying.
All Moira had to do was take a brief glance at Angela’s lips for them to be placed upon hers- a sudden release of what Moira understood to be serotonin rushed through her.
This wasn’t her first kiss, especially not with Dr. Ziegler- but it’s been so long since she felt the warmth of her lips against her own thin ones.
She froze, the blonde gently pushing Moira’s head to the side in order deepen the gentle kiss before pulling away- just enough for their lips to undo. Moira stared at Angela, her mouth agape, her lips glistened with the left over kiss. Angela wiped Moira’s lip with her thumb.
She let go of Moira, standing straight before turning on her heel to grab her coffee. Angela said a few words before walking out of the room. Moira didn’t hear.
She stared at the place Angela’s face was, almost star-struck. A sort of revelation hit the Irish woman, a revelation of understanding..
Maybe it really was hardcore jealousy. Jealousy of a now barely human man getting close with the medic who she has known for significantly longer than he. Jealousy of Genji preferring Angela due to their closeness. Jealousy of the soft way Angela spoke to and about Genji the same way she’d talk to Moira after a kiss.
Maybe she truly did like Angela. Maybe more like loved.
The more Moira thought, the more right it sounded.
Love.. that sounds close enough.
Moira couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at her lips, similar to the one during their initial meeting. Only, it felt different this time.
