He was sitting bolt upright on the bed. He rarely felt the need to sleep these days, and used the bed more as a convenient charging point than he did for rest. There was a plug in the wall here so he could sit without a view of the mirror. Staring for extended periods at his body made him want to smash something. At least here he could sit away from staring eyes. Including his own.

"Lights down." His voice reverberated with an oddly mechanical echo. The lights in his room dimmed, save those in his body. A large ring on his chest glowed dull red along with joints, crevices and powercircuits lining the robotics in his prosthetics. He stared down at the dark armour and flickering lights. He lifted his left arm, the one flesh-and-bone limb remaining him. He turned over his hand, covered in thin pink and white lines of scars. There was even a soft red glow on his good hand – light reflected from his eyes, he realised, that had needed electrical feeds directly into the optical nerve to save his sight. He clenched his fist and shut his eyes. At least when his eyes were shut, he felt like himself.

Except that when he closed his eyes and sat still for too long, mechanical interference melded with memory and pulled up HD flashes of the last imprints the organic part of his brain had experienced. He shuddered as the day of the incident was catapulted into his mind with startling clarity, complete with strong recollections of sound, sight, touch, and even smell. These visions of the past were becoming a regular part of his new life. Where at first they had reduced him to a shivering wreck, he now drunk them in, taking the pain they brought and boiling it into anger that he would unleash in the field.

The only moments he still found difficult to deflect were those minutes before it all began. Anticipation and dread would fill him as his brother spoke. That voice had become synonymous with what was to follow. And the wait was always so much worse than experiencing for the tenth or hundredth time the agony that left him torn limb from limb.

"Genji."

The voice was calm, imperious as ever. Genji often wondered if his brother had truly been that composed when he came to kill him. Was there anything at all under there that found this difficult, that wrestled with the task? He'd paused the memory and zoomed in on those features. Rewound just to look for a flicker of hesitation in his brother's face. He'd always come up empty handed.

"Genji." The voice said again.

It will pass. It will pass. Genji told himself. It wouldn't be long now. It wouldn't be long. The end would come. Except the end had never really come, had it.

"Genji." The voice said more sharply, "Are you in there? Answer me."

Genji's eyes flashed open in a glare of red. That wasn't how the dialogue went. He sat for a moment, considering the possibility that he was truly going mad – perhaps having an omnic uprising of his very own inside his body.

"Genji, if you're in there, open this door. We need to talk."

No, this was much worse than going mad. He jumped silently to his feet. His eyes darted around the small spartan quarters Blackwatch had given him. The room had always suited him well enough, but right now it was far too small. He pulled open his locker door, catching it before it banged on the wall. He slipped inside and pulled the door to. He had a lot more bulk to fit into small spaces now. And it was all much less flexible. He crammed his metallic bulk into the locker noiselessly. He could hear his breath loud through the grating ventilators in his mask. He pushed himself into the corner, hoping the light from his armour wouldn't show through the crack. He placed his hand over the largest LED in his chest, trying to smother its glow.

He's come to finish what he started. He heard I was still alive somehow and he's hunted me down. His head was a mess of racing thoughts. Don't let him see me like this. Don't let him see what I've become.

The handle to his room squeaked slightly as it was pulled. The door swung open, and Genji saw the bright light of the corridor shine as a white slit from inside his locker. There were footsteps. He knew their weight, the way they placed themselves, self-assured and proud. They turned on the spot, squeaking slightly on the tiled floor, trying to pinpoint something. A sound. Genji's breathing was so rasping through the ventilator that it was audible. He reached a hand slowly up, towards the thick tubes hooking up his ventilator. His fingers shook slightly as he tried not to knock the cramped locker walls with his plated steel elbows. He pulled the tubes out one – two – three. There was a fractional hissing as they released air. Then quiet. He was completely silent now, not even breathing.

The footsteps turned on the spot again. There was a pause. Then a sigh. Then they moved off. The door clicked shut. Genji tried to sigh with relief, but found he couldn't breathe. He fumbled for the dangling tubes, scrabbling to plug them back in. He managed to grab one and felt for the nozzle on the back of his skull. His body lurched as it tried and failed to draw in a breath. The tube slipped out of his hand. He reached for it again but his movements were sluggish and the locker seemed darker than it had before. His eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped heavily onto the locker floor.

Angela ran out of her clinic, a digital pad in hand that was beeping erratically. A pen fell out of her hair that she'd forgotten she placed there. She whirled round a corner and collided with an antiquated serape.

"Woah there, Doc. You're sure in a hurry, anythin' I can-"

"Come with me." She grabbed Jesse McCree by the elbow.

The young man clapped a hand to his hat as the doctor sped him through the halls. She held up her datapad as they ran, it showed a plan of the Watchpoint – a flashing red dot was blaring from a room. Jesse squinted at it as they ran.

"Hey, isn't that Genji's room? Thought you promised you'd stopped monitoring his vitals from your clinic?"

"Well it's a good thing I didn't," Angela said swiftly. Her datapad beeped more slowly, then turned to a continuous monotone.

"Is that good? That doesn't sound good. Is he ok?"

"Going into cardiac arrest."

Jesse swore. He skidded to a stop for the door to Genji's room and booted it open.

"It's empty! He's not here!"

Angela pushed in after him. Her eyes swivelled round the empty room. She hit the side of her datapad with her hand, shaking the screen.

"He's in here!" She said when the pad didn't change, "Find him!"

"Are you sure, Doc, I don't see-"

Angela got on her knees and looked under the bed. Jesse flung open the locker.

"I'll be damned."

They dragged Genji's unconscious body out onto the floor. Angela found the loose tubes and plugged them back into his head. The monotone on the datapad continued to sound.

"He ain't waking up, Doc. He ain't."

"Help me carry him to the clinic."

"He weighs a tonne! Let me get the boss-"

"There's no time! Help me lift him!"

They struggled to lift the part-man part-machine out into the corridor between them. They dragged his body a few yards down the corridor before Angela dropped Genji's legs.

"I'll get the gurney", she said, starting to run again, "You keep moving him."

"So you can leave me to get the damn trolley, but I can't go get the boss to help- Angela don't leave me here with him – what if he dies on me!?"

"He's already clinically dead!" She called back as she vanished round the corner.

Jesse swore again. All the anxiety he'd been holding back slipped onto his face now that he was alone. He wrapped his arms around Genji's chest and dragged him down the corridor.

"It ain't your time." He whispered to the body. "You come too far and been through too much for this to be how you go."

The long corridor was strangely silent but for Jesse's laboured breathing and the steely screech and spark of Genji's heels as he was dragged. It seemed strange to be with his friend and not to hear the mechanical tones of his assisted breathing. He tried not to dwell on that. He heard the rattle of a trolley up ahead. Angela whirled round the corner, gurney turning on two wheels to match her pace. She hit a button and it folded down to floor level. Between them they hauled Genji onto it. It stretched back to full height and Jesse took the handle. They ran with it back to the clinic. Jesse dared not ask his friend's status. Once inside, he stood back, letting the doctor hook up her patient.

Jesse hovered, trying not to get in her way but desperate for an update.

"You need to restart his heart or something? Got one of those old timey-" He rubbed his hands together and pushed them down, mimicking a defibrillator, "CLEAR – things?"

"Not that easy when he's mostly machine." She said as she worked. Good news is, we can do this..." She pulled a wire linked to the top of Genji's spine and plugged it straight into the mains power. His body jerked. She pulled it out and thrust it in again. The body jerked again.

Come on. Jesse pleaded. Come on, Genji.

The datapad began to beep again. Slowly at first. Angela replaced the wire and pulled out another one and fixed it to a tank above a hospital bed.

"Help me lift him onto the bed."

"Is he-?"

"He'll live."

The soft filter of Genji's mask started up again as he began to breathe. And Jesse felt relief wash over him.

"Damn." He said softly. He helped Angela lift the cyborg onto the bed. "What do you think he was doing in that cupboard? And with those wires pulled out of his head… Y'don't think…"

"Mr Shimada has only survived this far in life because he has an exceptionally strong will to live."

Jesse nodded quickly, and banished any thoughts to the contrary. He took off his hat and pulled up a stool, sitting heavily next to the bed.

Genji's eyes flickered on slowly. The room came to in patches of white. He recognised the all-too-familiar ceiling lighting of the clinic. There were red and black tubes feeding into an array of equipment above his head. Somewhere to his right a monitor beeped with a faint regular tone.

"Back from the dead. Again." There was a nervous laugh to his left. He turned his head slightly to see Jesse McCree. His face was anxious and agitated despite the light tone of his voice. His hat had crinkled where it had been held tight between his hands. His boots were tucked behind the bar of his stool and his posture was stiff.

Genji sat up slowly.

"Slow down there, pardner. Doc says you're to sit tight."

"I'm fine." Genji grated. He sat up. As he did, his predicament came swarming back to him. "I can't be here." He dropped his legs over the side of the bed.

"Genji, look – you nearly died on us back there – Doc says you were dead. She says you need rest and a drip. That it's going to put good stuff back in your body. She says its nutrients straight to your blood or something – look I don't know but please trust her okay and- Genji."

"The windows…" Genji was murmuring. "The windows are too big. He'll see."

"You gotta stay here, are you listenin' to me? Don't take any more goddamn tubes out your head and let the doc do her thing!"

Jesse stood up. He was going to stop Genji leaving by force if it came to it. But then something strange happened. His friend slipped off the bed, onto the floor, and crawled under the bed. The tubes linked to the tanks above shuddered and protested, but held steady.

"Genji?" Jesse stared in bewilderment. He got down on his knees and looked under the bed. "Come on outa there."

Two red eyes stared back at him from the darkness.

Jesse reached out a hand to grab him.

"Fuzakeru na!"

Jesse winced. He didn't need to be a language expert to understand the venom with which those words were spat.

"Ok." He sat back on his heels, "Fine suit yourself." He sighed and stood slowly. He ran a hand through his hair and picked his hat up from the stool. The sliding door to the clinic opened and Angela walked in, eyes glued to her datapad. She looked up and stopped.

"Where… Where is my patient?" She turned furious eyes on Jesse.

Jesse held up his hands in surrender.

"He's still here! Don't look at me like that! He's under the bed – don't ask. Just let him be – all the wires and stuff are still in." He moved to block Angela, who's face was going through various stages of controlled outrage as she made to get at the bed. "He's kinda pissed, Doc. Might want to let him alone for a bit, let him cool off. He's all-" He put up his hands like claws, "Hhhrgh. Y'know. Like a cat."

Angela stared at him like he were mad for a moment. Then she turned around and went back to her datapad.

"He's not staying there. Fetch Commander Reyes, please."

"Doc, really? I think we kinda got this under control now, y'know. No one's dyin' anymore. Everyone's where they need to be. On the bed – under the bed – not a whole lotta difference there. Frankly, I'm just sayin' we should all give ourselves a pat on the back for avoidin' a major catastrophe wh-"

"Stop stalling, Jesse. Commander Reyes will want to hear about this anyway. The sooner the better. I can't treat my patient whilst he's under the bed."

Jesse sighed. The spurs on his boots clinked together as he sloped out the clinic.

Angela turned round as the door slid open. Commander Reyes stalked in, eyeing up the empty beds with a calculated gaze.

"Where is he?"

Angela put her works aside and joined him quickly, glancing at the enormous shotguns strapped to the commander's side.

"Commander, you know I prefer you don't bring weapons into the clinic. I asked before and-"

"Where is he?" Reyes cut through her.

Angela hesitated, then gestured to the empty bed.

"Under the bed." She said. She stepped back, not wanting to get in his way. There was always something a little frightening about Reyes when he wanted something. It was easier to stay out of his line of sight and away from his temper. She flitted back to her laptop and perched on her stool, peering around from the edge of the screen when she thought it was safe to do so.

Reyes collected up the hem of his leather trenchcoat as he crouched, then let it fan out behind him. It was dark under the bed. Two red eyes stared out at him. He felt his patience slipping.

"Out." He ordered.

"I can't do that, Commander." The reply was quiet, barely more than a mechanical murmur.

"I assure you, you can. Don't make me lift up this bed and make you."

"Don't!" Came the hurried response. "I have to stay here. I have to stay out of sight."

"You want to tell me what's going on here, kid? McCree told me you went and pulled out your breathing…" He waved a hand vaguely for lack of an expression, "… stuff."

"I wasn't quiet enough. I had to be quieter."

"Start talking sense." Reyes snapped, but he was concerned. The ninja was a quiet one, but not easily shaken. This behaviour was unlike him.

"I can't come out, Commander." Genji said quietly. "He's here. He's looking for me. He's come to finish what he started."

"Who's here?"

"The one who did all this. The one responsible. My brother."

Reyes sat for a moment, mentally sorting through the mess before him. When he'd signed up to become a soldier he'd never dreamed that years down the line he'd be the first point of contact for all the damaged youngsters the UN wanted trained into elite operatives. He put his hand to his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again, and summoned all his patience.

"You think your brother's here? In Gibraltar?"

"I know he is."

"I think I'd know if that were the case, kid."

"Would you?"

Reyes had to fight to keep his temper in check. It was no secret that tensions had been strained recently between him and the Strike Commander. The ninja was right. It was possible he might not have been informed. That would be a low blow even for Jack though.

"I don't want to come out." Genji said quietly. "I don't want him to find me."

"Commander?" A voice piped up.

Reyes looked up in irritation. Angela had wound her way round the beds until she was nearby again. She still kept a safe distance between them.

"Commander," She said again, "I really would be able to treat him much better if he would just…" She gestured to the bed. "He needs rest. His body is still accepting its enhancements. I'm drip feeding him the nutrients he needs, but the lack of oxygen may have damaged some cells. His body needs to rest and be given the chance to start repairing itself."

"I won't rest!" Came the stubborn mechanical voice from under the bed, "I have to keep watch."

Reyes waved Angela away with a jerk of his hand. Angela's heart sunk again and she retreated back to her desk. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to ask for the commander after all.

"Doc says you need to rest to get better." Reyes said more softly once Angela was out of earshot.

Genji shook his head.

"He can shoot an arrow through an inch of glass and still hit his target." Genji whispered. "He'll look for me here. He won't give up until he's got what he wants. You don't know him. I do."

"Fine. You sleep, and I'll keep watch."

Genji hesitated,

"You'll wait until I'm asleep then leave to go and talk to the Strike Commander. You don't believe me that my brother's really here. You think I'm crazy. That I'm malfunctioning like the omnics you put down."

The kid was definitely a sharp one. And those did all sound like pretty plausible accusations.

"I won't leave you." Reyes said in the gentlest voice he could. He'd spent a lifetime barking orders – gentle wasn't something that came naturally to him. But for the young recruits who placed their life in his hands, he could always make an exception. "If I need to be elsewhere, I'll have McCree come sit in my place."

There was quiet as that was contemplated.

"Promise?"

Sometimes Reyes forgot just how young his soldiers were. They were all fearless fighters, but underneath the hard layers of survival they'd wrapped themselves in, there were still people little older than children in there somewhere who looked to him, trusted him.

"I promise." He said.

There was a pause, then red eyes dimmed and went dark. Reyes sat himself more heavily on the floor and leaned back against the wall. He sighed and listened as the ventilated breathing slowly got deeper and more steady.

Angela peered over her laptop at the commander. He looked different sitting on the floor. Lots of his intimidating presence was gone, and instead he looked a little vulnerable.

"Something the matter, Doc?"

He was still staring forward. Angela ducked back behind her screen.

"No, sir. All good here."