Chapter Text
Hanzo begins to think he will have to find some way to tie his brother down, or else he may pace himself into the ground, and then to death. Its childish thinking. Genji will not be killed by something as easily as pacing for too long (a pang of guilt as he remembers how acutely familiar he is with this fact) and will surely not allow himself to be tied down. Well… Maybe by Zenyatta, if he were here, but his absence is exactly the reason who Genji is so restless. Hanzo’s mind does not allow itself to become uncomfortable at the thoughts of his brother and a certain omnic participating in such intimate acts (as he had learned from a very drunk Genji early on in their relationship, his partner is “very inventive with a rope, bro, I’m a fuckin’ ninja and I can’t even get out half the time if I try-") and instead sobers, knowing that there may never again be room for anything besides sobriety and mourning regarding Genji and Zenyatta’s relationship.
The omnic isn’t dead. To clarify. Just very, very missing, and recently suspected to have been kidnapped by a small gang reported to have had interactions with Talon, but “no evidence points to them having any partnership with Talon. As far as we know, they could be rivals.”
Winston is speaking, looking like he feels like he should put a reassuring hand on Genji’s shoulder but also knowing that in such a state of unrest he could wind up with a shrunken lodged in any number of uncomfortable places. Genji keeps pacing, back and forth in front of the gorilla, seemingly not listening as he goes on about potential locations of the smaller, unnamed group, but theres nothing substantial. Nothing solid. After a while of Hanzo staring and contemplating and Winston trying and failing to be partially comforting, McCree tugs Genji away to try to get him to eat, or something. Hanzo hopes he will be able to, its ben three days of Genji pacing and pacing and jumping at every noise and pacing, not sleeping and not eating and only pausing in his nightmarish cycle to feverishly go over every bit of evidence relating to his partner’s kidnapping. The files are worn out. Hanzo knows that almost the whole team’s gone through them, including himself, hoping to find some way to help. Some bit of overlooked information that might bring their resident monk back. But its fruitless.
Sometimes he catches Genji talking to himself, pacing and pacing and saying hoarse sounding things, “Why? What does this mean? What are you trying to tell me?"
The worst part is how helpless he feels. When he first came to overwatch, its was like he was walking on eggshells around his brother, and all of his friends. Surprisingly, to say the least, Genji stepped boldly over his metaphorical eggshells, crushing all of them, offering open arms and endless forgiveness. Hanzo hadn’t resisted, and within a few months the brothers were on comfortable speaking terms, not acting like nothing ever happened, but acting like two men who greatly cared for each other but were still struggling with deep wounds. At the worst of times they were fighting, lashing out between every tiny misunderstanding, and at the best of times they were laughing together and talking about anything they could wrap their tongues around.
And now its like that gap had never been bridged. He thinks back on what Jesse had said only hours ago to him, gazing hopelessly at the ninja working himself to exhaustion in the training facilities, dismembered and methodically disemboweled training dummies scattered around him with their meager mechanical innards spilling out of their metal shells what if they find his omnic like that?
“Its like I’m lookin' at him when we first met. He was so angry- you couldn’t get ‘im to take kindly to a word anyone said for a year.”
Hanzo is aware of what caused his brother’s anger, but not of how much he had relied on Zenyatta.
“I don’t rely on anyone.”
Genji had snapped when Hanzo confronted him about it with what was honestly all the grace and tact he could.
“Is my reaction not natural?”
Before Hanzo can answer with more desperately attempted tact, words now as sharply intentioned as a shrunken fly from his brother’s mouth
"Are you so emotionally stunted by what you did to me that you can’t imagine caring deeply for anyone?”
So Hanzo gives him space. Which is why he was unaware of Zenyatta’s return until a day later he finds them together in the medical wing, his brother holding the trembling omnic against his chest and looking like he would absolutely murder anyone who came near them.
-
Hanzo gives him more space, and over the next few days he manages to piece together the story of Zenyatta’s rescue from what he hears from the rest of Overwatch. Shockingly, although McCree gave the most interesting and seemingly informative account of the situation, Tracer’s was the most accurate, especially when paired with Winston’s official records.
“now hol’ on a minute, I never said that I saw him run in, I only told you what I thought happened. Theres a difference, an’ you overlooked it.”
Hanzo pointedly does not roll his eyes or express any frustration. His pointedness in avoiding these actions gives them away to the cowboy anyways.
“Perhaps you overlooked the part of the story where you specify what was made up and what was factual.”
He says, and Jesse only flashes a wry, wolfish grin at him from around a mouthful of strawberry chewing gum (he’s trying to quit smoking).
“Sorry sunshine, I’m just happy to have Genji back. Got a bit carried away with all his heroics.”
Although Genji was not the one who was missing, Hanzo knows what he means. His brother is no longer jumpy and pacing, but still, although he doesn’t say this to Jesse, not his offhandedly stoic and easily social self. Zenyatta’s mental state is a... different story.
“The closest I’ve ever seen him like this was right after Mondatta died.”
Tracer sighs, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, her legs meeting her torso only because she’s abandoned the device normally strapped to her chest. It lies a few feet away, pulsating either ominously or comfortingly. Hanzo can’t decide.
“Genji’s the only one who’s been able to get anything out of him, and even after that he won’t tell us anything. He’s being so…” Hanzo watches her search for the right word. Candidates cross his mind too. Protective, maybe.
“Hes… He’s freaking me out. They both are.”
-
13:17 on February 13, Genji Shimada failed to check in for mission briefing.
16:35 on February 13, Genji Shimada was reported missing from Overwatch Base Gibraltar. Overview of recent security footage shows Agent Shimada leaving the base on foot, carrying a small bag of unknown contents.
9:35 on February 14, A special mission to locate Agent Shimada was assigned to Overwatch Agents McCree and Mercy
22:25 on February 14, Agent Shimada returned to Overwatch Base Gibraltar with Agent-
Hanzo slams the file down frustratedly. The official account matches up with what Tracer told him, but theres practically nothing here. It’s been days since his brother’s unofficial rescue mission, and if he’s been called in to brief Winston about it, theres no evidence of that here. Across the table from him, Tracer gives him a tired and apologetic smile. He keeps reading.
22:25 on February 24, Agent Shimada returned to Overwatch Base Gibraltar with Agent Zenyatta, who was reported missing on 17:00 February 9.
Since the return of Agents Shimada and Zenyatta there has been no reported complications regarding Agent Shimadas whereabouts. Agent Zenyatta has not yet been reported fit for duty.
Hanzo rests his head on the table briefly, trying to piece together his patchwork account of the situation. “Thats it?” He asks, head still on the cool metal of the table.
“I’m sorry love, From what I know thats all that Winston actually knows himself.”
“He hasn’t talked to Genji about it?”
Tracer gives him an exasperated look, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s starting to wear on her endless patience.
“No one’s tried to. He’s just been holed up in the medical wing with Zen…”
She glances past him thoughtfully, a hesitant revelation coming to them both.
A few minutes later finds Hanzo in the office of Angela Ziegler, shuffling his feet nervously on the floor. Her office is impeccable, besides for the overflowing an tilted filing cabinets behind her desk. It reminds him of the way Genji would clean his room as a child. His bed, dresser, floor, would all be mostly spotless but got forbid anyone open his closet. However, the filing cabinets that no doubt hold medical records may hold more desperately avoided ghosts than Genji’s childhood bedroom.
“I’ll be right with you, Hanzo.”
Mercy says not unkindly, hurrying past him with a handful of what looks like confiscated cigars. McCree won’t be happy. She’s back a minute later, cigar-less and wearing her token smile that manages to convey both professional energy and exasperated weariness.
They get along swimmingly. Its the first time Hanzo has really spoken to her, and truthfully this is because he had done everything in his power to politely avoid her. Considering how McCree has acted towards him when they first met, him being like a surrogate brother to the one Hanzo killed (He distinctly remembers chewing tobacco being spit at him on several occasions when Genji was not looking, and one time finding a handful of cigar stubs in his quiver), He had done everything he could to avoid interacting with Genji’s friends. But Mercy’s optimism, never quelled by her world-weariness and familiarity with human suffering is somewhat refreshing to Hanzo, as someone who let his disenchantment with existence smother him for most of his life. Contrarily, Angela seems to appreciate his quick but accurate judgement of situations, never letting a hope for optimism dampen the severity of anything.
“Actually, I know less about the whole… rescue... than you do.”
Mercy’s pause before the carefully selected word allows Hanzo some insight on her slight discomfort with the whole situation. He’s in vague agreement. Everything about the situation is suspicious, which he becomes more aware of as he relays what he knows of the story to her.
-
No one knows what actually drove Genji to run when he did, or carrying what he was carrying in that small bag, which turned out to be a small omnic-specific first aid kit, and more strangely, at least ten empty syringes of an unknown substance. An investigation team was dispatched almost immediately after he left, and from the inklings that Hanzo gets rather than what he’s told, the small team was formed more likely out of fear not for Genji, but of what he would or could do. Its not the first time an Overwatch Agent has been lost because of a romantic relationship with another agent, Angela reminds him, and he knows she’s thinking of a Talon agent who he’s yet to make the acquaintance of, but who he still knows enough about to find her formidable.
Now, the way Jesse told the rest of the story was that; before the he and Angela even began to formulate a plan, Genji had burst through the hangar doors to the base (having used his dragon to actually tear through them, as he seemed to feel it was a more thorough and faster option to get inside) clutching an unconscious and badly injured Zenyatta in his arms and shouting for a medic.
The way it seemed to have actually happened was that the security cameras around the base had picked up on Genji returning to the base with Zenyatta in tow (still badly injured and lying in Genji’s arms, unfortunately), and Winston had sent out himself and Tracer to engage, with Angela and Jesse hanging back for backup. Genji, in some sort of haze of confusion, attacked with all the energy he could channel into his dragon blade and then collapsed, still holding his partner. The force of the dragons did in fact tear through the hangar doors, although its unlikely that that was what Genji was aiming to do. Four days later he’s still in the medical wing by Zenyatta’s side and no one has even attempted to speak to them. Well, besides Angela, but all she’s done is treat the mostly unresponsive omnic under Genji’s vaguely threatening gaze.
Angela now swirls cold coffee around in a “WORLDS BEST DOCTOR” mug pensively, chewing on her lower lip. Hanzo becomes aware of a noise coming from outside, like someone crying, but the more he listens, alert and concerned, the more it sounds like its being played through a communicator with a bad signal, interspersed with static and deformed jumps in pitch. The more he listens he can hear gently spoken words in a language thats not english, and not his native Japanese, but it’s spoken in what he recognizes as his brother’s voice.
“Zenyatta is… not in very good condition. I don’t specialize in omnic care, but if any of my human patients were exhibiting these symptoms I would be unsettled.”
Hanzo turns to her, something like dread settling heavy on him like a lead blanket.
“How can I help?”
She smiles wryly at him, and this time he recognizes something of Jesse’s token smirk in it.
“Talk to your brother.”