Chapter Text
Omnics don’t have markings; each one was fairly individual, sure, but no machine could calculate how the heart works, even a robotic heart. McCree had lost his marking along with his left hand, writing that had been gone so long he could barely remember it, in a language he could never understand.
Maybe in that respect Omnics were lucky, yeah so half the world still hated them, but they could make their own path, not spend their life hung up on the fact there was obviously some sort of cosmic plan for them, some sort of plan he’d lost the details to a long time ago.
Jesse’s problem was that since blackwatch he’d been all over the world, and how was he supposed to know which sentence was the one that had been on his wrist, when he’d been greeted and chased away a thousand times in a hundred different languages. He reckoned he’d know when the moment came, if it hadn’t already been and gone. Either that or Jesse was free, no marking to keep him back, and in truth he wasn’t sure which option sounded more unsettling.
-
Hanzo Shimada had a completely different and yet not holy unrelated predicament. Since his mark had made itself known Hanzo had paid little attention to it, Genji, the one with no marking, was better suited to the daydreaming that one afforded. As future leader Hanzo already had a future partner found for him when his marking appeared, one that would allow for future leaders, one whom he had already met, and had certainly not greeted him with that. It had been simple enough to hide it amongst the blue ink that later adorned his skin.
Of course life had curious plans for them all, the return of the brother he had killed, and joining yet another illegal organisation, though this one with honourable intentions, had not been a part of the life he had planned, yet he found himself working alongside Genji for the reformed Overwatch.
“You’ve already met Angela and Fareeha, at the base,” ‘Tracer’ mentioned quickly, far too chipper for Hanzo’s liking when he could feel Genji beside him and had no idea what may lie on the other side of the door on his first mission with the team.
“There’s a team already heading to the extraction point,” Fareeha reiterated, her tone of voice far more appropriate, “We’re back-up.”
“And this is our stop,” Tracer called back as the door began to lower and she disappeared from view for a moment, reappearing several feet away, Dr Ziegler and Fareeha flying after her.
“You may wish to learn how to keep up, brother,” Genji suggested as he too darted through the door, jumping easily over a van. With a sigh Hanzo followed, pleased that he hadn’t lost the agility from his youth and that he was able to follow Genji’s path almost exactly. Hanzo had very little time to take in the scenery, but he knew the streets, Hanamura had changed very little since his departure almost a decade ago, and it had not changed at all since his visit only months before.
It was easy enough to find their objective, just head towards the sound of gunfire. Gates that had been closed for so long had been blown open and Hanzo had to wonder if he would know those on the other side. Tracer stood in what cover the doors remains afforded, hands on hips and speaking rather animatedly with a stout man that all the while repaired a turret.
Hanzo was close enough to hear the man yelling in reply, “They’ve got us in a chokehold there’s no way we can get through the doors without clearing some of them out first.”
“Have you tried going over the top?” Hanzo asked, hearing a quiet chuckle, almost like Genji’s.
“Going over?!” The small man cried, “well why don’t ya be my guest an’ try that!”
“Hanzo,” Tracer interjected, “this is Torbjörn, our mechanical expert. Torbjörn, Hanzo, Genji’s brother.”
“Well howdy there darlin’,” a voice welcomed from behind, heavily accented and its owner out of breath.
Back stiff, Hanzo’s hands went into position subconsciously, nocking an arrow and pulling back the bowstring so that his fingertips brushed against his cheek. He turned quickly, the head of the arrow in the face of very startled cowboy whose eyes were wide with confusion, and whose hand was quickly drawing his own weapon.
-
When Jesse had more than enough time to pull out peacemaker and aim it he figured it was just a show, and carefully stepped out of the way of the arrows aim and turned to the frankly beautiful man that had been a fingers twitch away from putting an arrow through his skull. “Now calm down there.”
“In case you boys haven’t noticed we’ve got a mission to attend to,” Fareeha stated as she landed on the ground with a crash.
Jesse could only watch as the man snarled, spinning towards the blown open entrance, yelling in a language that McCree didn’t understand and released his arrow in a torrent of blue light that spiralled into form. He’d seen Genji’s dragon before, but this, well it was something else.
“The path is now clear,” the eldest Shimada stated, glancing at Jesse only long enough to scowl, before scaling the wall and disappearing from sight.
The rest of the team ran forth, taking advantage of the momentary confusion two giant dragons must have caused amongst the goons, but Genji paused for a moment. Not for the first time McCree found himself wishing that Omnics or cyborgs or whatever the hell, had a way of expressing emotion.
After a tense moment Genji finally spoke, the words not what he had expected, “I think he likes you.”
Jesse laughed as the samurai scaled the wall, shouting as he summoned his own dragon. Trust his luck.