Genji woke suddenly. His head still lay on Jesse's shoulder as they sat in the shade of a large tree. A gentle breeze drifted by - not that Genji could feel it through his armour - and golden sunlight speckled them both through the leaves. Before them lay a lake, shining blue like the clear sky above. And there was not a single person in sight. That was the most important thing.
They had been pursued doggedly by the sniper over the last twelve hours or so. She had chased them up the roads, through bush, into buildings. Wherever they went, she showed up soon after. Genji and Jesse had arrived at the park only an hour ago, both panting and drenched with sweat. Former covert ops Overwatch agents or not, it was a long time to be running. Genji had taken first watch and let Jesse grab some sleep. In that time he'd had a lot to think about. It was almost too much.
Genji hadn't been able to get the image of his mentor's head being shattered by a sniper round out of his head. He'd shuddered every time it crossed his mind's eye, despite his efforts to avoid it.
After his brother Hanzo had left him broken and bleeding, it had been Angela who had found him, and it had been Winston who had built his cybernetics; but it had been Zenyatta who had helped heal his spirit. Genji used to have so much hatred - for the world, for his brother, for himself. Thanks to Zenyatta, it was gone now. Mostly.
Genji still had the nightmares, and the incredibly inconvenient flashbacks. The day his brother tried to kill him was sharp and clear every time he relived it. What his brother did…how was he supposed to make peace with that? Brothers shouldn't do what Hanzo did. It was not justifiable. How could he ever deserve Genji's forgiveness?
Behind his eyes he saw his home, Shimada Castle. He heard Hanzo growl in frustration as Genji disarmed him of his sword. He felt blinding pain as Hanzo's elbow collided with his jaw. Something cracked. Then it all fast-forwarded. Genji staggered through a forest. His right arm was broken beyond repair. White bone stuck out of his skin and dribbled blood. He heard his brother call out.
"Genji! It is over. You will burden our family no more. Accept your fate and you may yet restore a sliver of honour!"
Genji staggered on until he reached a place where the trees ended. It was a cliff, sharp and steep. At the bottom of it were rocks and boulders, and then a continuation of the forest's trees. He turned around. There stood Hanzo, arrow nocked to his bow. Tears streamed down his face.
"Why, Genji? Why couldn't you just do your duty?"
"Because it is not right! And unlike you, I decided to do what was right, not what was easy."
"You think this is easy for me? Fighting you is the hardest thing I have ever had to do!" Hanzo yelled.
"Then stop. Please."
Hanzo shook his head. "It is too late for you. I will do my duty. I love you, Genji."
Then Hanzo fired, and Genji woke up.
He lifted his head from Jesse's shoulder. "Any sign of trouble?"
"Not ye- wait." Jesse shoved Genji away and threw himself to the ground.
A sniper shot ripped through the tree they had been leaning on. Wood splinters sprayed everywhere. They both scrambled to their feet.
Jesse spat out a shard of wood, pointing. "Sniper's on that hill over there!"
Genji nodded. "You distract. I'll flank." He darted off into the trees.
Behind him he heard the bangs of Jesse's revolver, and the thunderclap of sniper shots with subsequent thunks into the ground. As far as he knew, the sniper was focused on Jesse, but she would've seen that Genji wasn't with him anymore. She would know he was coming, so he needed to make a second distraction.
Genji dashed the between the trees. Sunlight dappled a ground strewn with dirt, leaves, and bark. The ground grew steeper, and the booming sniper shots grew louder as he ascended the slope. At the top of the hill would be the sniper. Genji readied a shuriken in his right hand and drew his short sword with his left.
Within moments he spotted her. The same sniper from New York, perched in a tree atop the hill. She was still looking down her scope. Perfect opportunity. Too perfect. She would know he was coming. So where was the trap? Genji ducked behind a tree and glanced around him. Between the trees, only still, summer air.
Then several helmeted gunmen in black leapt from the trees and opened fire. Genji ducked, weaved, and dodged with frantic grace. His face beneath his mask dripped with sweat. His heartbeat bounded to catch up to the sudden activity. Using his short sword, he deflected a few bullets that almost landed. He flung his shuriken. It thunked into the chest of one of the gunmen. Faster than lightning, he leapt at another gunman and sliced his head from his shoulders. Then another. And another. The gunmen began to give ground, firing all the while. Their bullets splintered and maimed the pristine trees around. Wood shards misted the air. The repeated hammering of their guns would've made Genji deaf if he wasn't in his armour.
His fear turned to elation as he began to take control of the situation. Each gunman fell before him like wheat before a scythe. They began to run. He chased. Some got well away. Some died instantly. And an unlucky portion were teased with the thought of escape before being slain by the former Overwatch operative. Genji knew they were terrified. He felt it in his heart, and it sickened him. But he also knew that fear was the best protection for one man against many. It would do more work for him than his sword would in the long run, much as it had in the past.
However, Genji wasn't done - most of the gunmen were still alive, as was the sniper. Then a single sniper shot echoed through the skies, and Genji stumbled and fell heavily on his face. As he fell, he saw the dirt before him explode. He absently realised the bullet had ripped right through him and impacted the ground in front.
He landed, and his breath was knocked out of him. His legs weren't flesh and blood anymore, but he was still alarmed when they wouldn't move. Using his arms, he tried to push himself up. He propped up his torso, but he couldn't draw his feet underneath him. He collapsed back to the dirt. Footsteps surround him, followed by the cocking of guns. Then a final, lighter pair of footsteps approached. He looked up.
It was the sniper. She had purple skin and black hair, with gold eyes that glinted with malice. A dark smirk accentuated her sleek, elegant beauty, and Genji realised in a flash who she was.
Amélie Lacroix. Wife of the former golden boy of Overwatch, Gérard Lacroix.
He didn't know she'd survived, Genji mused.
Jesse had headed into the trees soon after Genji. He'd been careful to be a looming threat to the sniper. His shots had forced her to leap from tree to tree. Once or twice he thought he might have even hit her, but she always seemed to move just a millimeter ahead of his aim. He'd seen Genji close in on the sniper, and he'd thought it was all going to plan.
Then the gunmen had revealed themselves. Genji had been holding his own, but Jesse tried to rush in anyway. The sniper, however, kept him where he was. Shot after shot shattered bark around him. Jesse tried to get a return shot in, but was struck in his right shoulder. His revolver spiralled to the ground some metres away.
He ducked back behind the tree, clutching the wound on his shoulder. Blood already drenched his bionic left hand. Jesse felt warmth run down his shoulder blade into the small of his back. The shot must've gone right through, but he didn't feel a thing. Adrenaline flooded him.
Another sniper shot rang out, but no tree nearby erupted in splinters, nor was there any puff of dirt. Jesse's heart leapt to his throat, and he peered from behind his tree. Genji lay face-down on the ground, surrounded by gunmen. The sniper leapt from her perch in the trees, landed softly, and stood over Genji. Her lips moved. One gunman hoisted Genji onto his soldier.
Jesse wanted to cry out, open fire, anything; but he couldn't. They beat Genji, and now he was alone. They were organised, they were ready, and they drew them both into a trap. Jesse had to get out of here now, and hope Genji would still be alive when he came for him.
Most of the gunmen charged through the trees at Jesse, some of them firing rounds from their automatic rifles. Jesse snarled as he hoisted himself off the ground and broke into a sprint for his life as he wove through the trees. Around him bullets cracked against the environment. He even felt a few whip past him, too close for comfort.
As he ran, he focused on his legs, his thumping heart, his burning lungs, the sweat drenching his clothes. He did not look back - you ran faster that way. Instead he gauged where his assailants were from where their gunshots sounded, where their bullets struck, and the angles between. And none of this he did consciously. It was instinct.
Then he heard a different sound, which stuck out so much he turned around anyway.
A rocket barrelled toward him. Jesse reflexively reached for his revolver, then remembered. He snarled and kept on running, praying it would miss.
It impacted somewhere behind him. The explosion ripped the nearest tree trunks to shreds in a blast of fire, and the outgoing shockwave of air picked Jesse up and flung him into the air above the trees. The world spun wildly around him. He could hear nothing but a sharp ringing that pierced his ear drums. Dread enveloped him. He would die today, when he landed and broke every bone in his body. He wasn't ready.
Then an arm grabbed Jesse around his torso and pulled him out of his chaotic flight. The world became more still, and he felt himself rising. Jesse opened his eyes. The ground was dropping rapidly away from him. He yelped and clutched the arm around his torso.
"Easy, cowboy. I've got you."
Jesse looked up over his shoulder. It was Mercy. Her blonde hair shone in the bright sunlight. It seemed to glow, and it illuminated Jesse with its golden light. Knowing eyes, blue as the clear sky above, gazed down at him with such compassion that Jesse knew he would be alright.
A shuttle appeared from the corner of Jesse's vision, door open, and Mercy flew right in. She landed heavily, jostling Jesse's shoulder. He cried out as pain reverberated from his wound.
"Get us away from their rockets!" cried Angela.
"Aye aye!" replied the pilot - Lena, Jesse recognised - and the shuttle shot away from Harriman State Park, flinging Jesse and Angela against the now-closed back door. They landed in a heap. Angela groaned as she untangled herself from Jesse.
Jesse winced as he slowly sat himself up against the door, clutching his wound again. Blood had liberally dribbled all over his clothes now. Some of it was smeared on the shuttle floor. "Not your smoothest of landings, Angie," Jesse quipped.
"We do our best," said Angela with a smile that was more a grimace. "Take off your top."
Jesse complied, but stopped when it came to removing his right arm from the sleeve. He grunted as he tried again, then stopped.
"Here, I'll help you." Angela helped him gently work his arm free of the sleeve.
Once it was off, he slumped, releasing a tired sigh. Now that Angela was able to have a proper look at him, Jesse seemed exhausted. He had prominent bags under his eyes. The usual cheer she remembered being bright in his eyes had faded to dull embers. He was thin, pale, hair unkempt, and he smelt a little.
Another sharp manoeuvre of the shuttle flung Angela and Jesse against the seats on the side. Jesse cried out again at the rough treatment of his shoulder. This time Angela hoisted Jesse onto a seat and strapped him in. She grabbed the shuttle's medical kit from an under-seat compartment and opened it. Using the tube of saline, she flushed Jesse's wound on both sides, and used a sterile cloth to wipe the excess blood away from the area.
"Try to relax," she said.
"Yes, doctor," said Jesse.
Angela smiled wryly. "Shut up."
Jesse chuckled.
"It looks like the bullet went clean through. You are very, very lucky. It cut right through the muscle, but apart from some bruising, your bones are fine; and it missed all the nerves and vessels nearby."
"What can I say, I got the luck of the devil."
Angela smiled, more sincerely this time. "Maybe you could share it around sometime." She stood and grabbed her staff.
"If only I could."
Angela noted the bitter undercurrent in his voice. It gave her pause. She returned and sat in the seat next to him. After calibrating her staff, she pointed it at Jesse's shoulder and activated it. A golden tendril of light came from it and suffused the wound.
Jesse let out a giggle and writhed in his seat. "That always tickles."
"Sit still, you goof."
Angela intermittently checked the progress of the wound. Bit by bit, the muscle was knitting back together, followed by the fascia, then the skin.
"Just like new, doc. I still swear that thing's magic."
"I can't keep dodging things forever! Are we staying or going?" Lena shouted from the cockpit.
"We're going! Take us home, Lena!" said Jesse.
Angela paled. "Wait!" She grabbed Jesse by the shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "We're not leaving without Genji. He was with you. He's down there…isn't he?"
Jesse looked away. "He is, but we can't go back."
"Why not?" Angela hissed. "Take us down, Lena. I'm going in!"
"No, you're not!" Jesse growled. "They set a trap and lured us in. They got Genji, and there's nothing we can do right now!" His voice wavered. "We have to go to Gibraltar. Regroup, and come back for him!"
"If that's the case, he's right, Angie," called Lena. "We're going!"
"No. No!" In that moment, Angela hated them, but she knew they were right. With rough and venomous movement, she strapped herself in next to Jesse and gripped the seat like a vice.
The shuttle shot away. Towards Winston, to Overwatch. But away from Genji. She felt the tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she bit her lip and stared resolutely at the seat opposite her.
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. She looked at Jesse. His eyes glistened.
"We'll get him back," he said.
And Angela couldn't hold it in. The tears fell. She pulled Jesse into a side-on hug, and they held each other until there were no more tears. Everything was silent. No-one said anything, not even Lena.
The shuttle flew through the air, away from Genji, and towards the only chance she would have of seeing him again.
A/N: Hello! Glad people are enjoying the story so far. So, I was gonna reunite Genji and Angela in this chapter, but...*angst*
Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and if you have any thoughts on the story, feel free to review and let me know!