How haunting are the shafts we may not see;
The lanterns at our temples,
And these gloves
Drawn over the dexterity of life:
Was it for such
We left the sweet and summer of above?
All through the steppes of ore
The picks drive in;
We are in the night of the horns,
And wheels that shuttle down enghosted halls,
But there, when I twist back
And see your death
Pass mutely down and up within this realm,
I know;
Through choke-damp be here,
Though the walls turn in,
I shall go to sleep without a falter,
Dark beside you,
Reconciled
And proud.
–
Late 2070
Geneva, Switzerland
"Why is this not working?" She slammed a hand on a steel table, her tools rattling. A drip of a clear fluid dangling, the sounds of gunfire and rattling overhead.
"M'am, you need to get out of here, this wing will collapse at any moment!"
Angela stared down the lifeless body on the gurney. There was nothing that could be done for him, and now she needed to escape. Nevertheless, she felt a tug to the body, that if she only could find another few moments, she could attempt something else…
The sirens grew louder, the sound of falling concrete and metal, the twisting of wires, crushing of tile rang in her ears. The hallway ahead of her swirled with dust from the debris, but she could still make out a faint "exit" sign in red neon. Making her way slowly through, shepherding her nurses to the exit; she would be damned if any of her crew were to perish here.
Suddenly, a rush of air. A crashing sound. Screaming coming from the exit.
She found herself on the tiled floor, a concrete pillar over her hip and left leg. Pinned to the ground, Angela let out a cry for assistance, attempting to stay calm. The biotic nanotechnology she created coursed through her body, and if she was freed quickly enough she could save bodily function. But someone needed to move the object which kept her on the ground, and she could smell blood, tangy and metallic.
From the room she left behind, a cloud not of dust, but as black as deep water. Starting out transparent, to more opaque, the form is created slinked closer and closer to her…
A rush of air. A crashing sound, everything then going blank. Black fingers around her throat, slowly squeezing the air out of her lungs. Angela gasped, clawing at the hands… her own hands phasing in and out of them…
Two white eyes.
You're done for, Doc.
–
October 2077
Geneva, Switzerland
"… Where did you learn to cook so well, Angela?"
"When out in the field with limited resources, your skills are tested; having a kitchen feels like such a luxury now…"
"So you and your Master lived in the mountains? Have you had any trouble with your pneumatic systems at that altitude?"
"Always the Doctor, aren't you?"
"… Genji, I have kitchen knives to cut those up. No need to use your sword…"
–
The cyborg dozed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. His whole body tingled, rushed with warmth at thinking over the past few days here in Geneva.
After he and Angela had spoken honestly about their experiences, owning up to the damage he created in his wake, and that kiss… they co-existed harmoniously. In this little white apartment, the pair shared stories of the seven years past. His Master let the two have their "alone time", but would chime in during meals to elaborate on some tall tale from their travels.
And what "alone time" it was. There was still some sadness there, but tempered with the flow of more and more knowledge. Why he left so abruptly, why she kept calling out for him… it was clearer now than it was when it all occurred. They would spend their evenings talking, reclining on the couch, becoming more comfortable as each other's housemate.
The affection they felt for each other so long ago was still there
Genji, on his back, felt himself dipping into the pool of the subconscious, dark and refreshingly cool. As he felt the edges of his being fizzle away into the night…
But, a faint sound coming from the next room pulled him up from the pool. Was it Angela changing positions in bed? That was nothing from him to be concerned about. A whimper? Maybe she was too cold, or was itchy and did not wake up to remedy the problem…
Then, a scream.
He bolted upright, tossing the covers away and rushing to the door. A thousand possibilities raced through his mind, his military training smoothing out his movements to their most precise and efficient. Door open, swing to the right, wait. He listened carefully, perfectly still.
Silence on the other side. No sounds of footsteps, no shuffling; after a moment, he could hear Angela's voice, so familiar now. Whimpering.
He slowly turned the knob, opening the door she kept unlocked. The bedroom ahead of him was clean and orderly, much like the rest of the apartment. Clothing picked out for the next day hung on the door to the closet, books stacked on a wooden desk, a single sock on the hardwood floor.
Crouching slightly, Genji pressed forward, hearing more and more clearly the panicked crying coming from the bed.
Angela laid on her side, face pressed against her pillow. Her eyes were tightly shut, hands gripping at the comforter and the corner of the mattress. Entire body shaking, she nevertheless was nearly still. As if her muscles were locked in place…
"Angela," Genji said with concern, in the hope that she would wake up, respond to him. Kneeling on the floor next to her bed, he reached out, just barely touching her upper arm…
At his touch, her eyes opened wide, terror in them. She gasped for a breath before letting out a scream, the kind that someone made when they were actually in danger. Genji placed a hand on her shoulder, moving his head to meet her gaze, making comforting noises:
"Angela, it is me," he quickly said, trying to get her to calm down. Angela looked into his eyes, her pupils wide, searching for light.
"I can't breathe-" she sputtered, not able to get enough air, grasping for his arms. Something steady, something to bring her back to this world. The air trapped in her throat gagged her, making every breath a struggle.
"-going to kill me," she wailed, "-or worse-" She tugged at her comforters and his arm, grappling to get as close to his core as possible. More than one teammate, he could cover her, but she needed to get away-
"Genji… please…" she pleaded through tears, holding onto his shoulders, "Don't let him…"
"There there," Genji cooed, moving in closer, letting her grip onto his arm. Who could be after her? His eyes narrowed in worry and thought, letting her continue. She pressed her head into his chest, breathing slower than before.
"… Reyes," she said clearly, before taking another pained gulp of air. Genji stiffened, holding onto her tighter. They both knew who that was. Commander of Blackwatch, listed as deceased.
"But, Reyes is dead, Angela." She let out a shaking breath, feeling light-headed. Now fully awake, she turned to look over her room. It was just as when she went to sleep hours ago; no open windows, nothing overturned, nothing at all to indicate that anyone was in there without her knowledge. Letters from Winston piled on her desk, all warning her to be careful and armed at all times… Genji did not know about this threat looming over her.
"He is not dead, nor alive," she started, pulling back from him. She covered herself up with the comforters on her bed, the room chilly and goosebumps on her shoulders. The cyborg sat fully on the floor:
"You said in your message that he was dead, along with Morrison. The Headquarters was flattened."
"After their conflict," she started, rubbing her shoulder, her voice hoarse, "The bodies of both Commanders were evacuated to the wings of the Medical Bay that were still intact. It was still my responsibility to provide medical care to both of them. At the time, no one in my department knew who was responsible for starting the whole thing, so it was best to keep both alive."
"I was assigned Reyes, he was more badly damaged than Morrison, so I was told. Perhaps I was being lied to, that Morrison was already dead and my staff were reluctant to tell me."
"He was gravely injured… but not deceased. We were put into a holding room, barricaded in by armed staff. I gave him a treatment that I had only injected into myself previously, on the battlefield. Nanomachines, that repair at the cellular level."
"Something was not right. He was not stabilizing at the rate I expected. Before I could act further, the rest of the building began collapsing."
"As I went to escape, a pillar collapsed. I was pinned, even now my hips and left leg… they are not the same. I saw a figure emerge from the room where I left Reyes' body. It surrounded me, threatened me… I felt as if I was suffocating." She touched her neck, reminding herself of the pressure on her throat.
"Our Reinhardt discovered me and freed me, the smoke dissipating. At the time, I assumed that what I experienced was just a hallucination from blood loss and shock. I had part of a building fall on me, after all.
But, that memory haunts me still. I find myself waking up this way frequently, and it has only gotten worse with the letters."
"Letters?" Genji asked, listening intently.
"Winston… you and him got along so well together," Angela continued, leaning in closer to Genji off her bed, "Morrison showed up at his base disheveled and worse for wear. And with news none of us wanted… my treatment failed, but Reyes did not die. He is another type of being now, a ghost in the shadows. He hunts for all of us in the organization, and he has a particular interest in me.
I was responsible for the form of 'life' he is living now, so he claims. I was warned not to leave my apartment unarmed." Angela glanced quickly over to her nightstand, the front drawer with her pistol inside.
Genji frowned deeply, looking up to her with worry. Pushing himself up, he held out a hand to her. She took his hand, squeezing it. A wordless exchange; her terror, his own fear for her, their resilience.
"You can rest without worry so long as my Master and I are here," Genji said firmly, "I promise you this."
"I do not wish for you to become involved-"
"That dog of a man will not harm you," Genji spat, kneeling down to meet her gaze. His eyes brimming with fire, but softened slightly when they met her quivering blue eyes. "If I can do something, anything to keep you safe, I will. What happened, what he became… this is no one's fault. His heart was dark long before his body transformed."
"I will not be able to dissuade you," Angela sighed, tightening her grip on his hand. Cool, metallic, warming slightly with the heat of her body.
-tick-
The heat turned on in the apartment. A rush of air. Angela shuddered; even with the heat turned on, she felt a chill come over her, trickling down her spine.
"… Genji."
"Yes, Angela?'
"… I have a favor to ask of you."
"Anything."
"Could you stay in here… with me… please?"
"Of course; I could bring a blanket from the guest room, resting on a floor is still a luxury for me after our travels-"
"No… no," she stammered nervously, "I do not mean on the floor. I mean with me, in this bed." She patted her mattress with her hand, face flushed. Genji shifted his weight back, taking her request in.
"I mean no harm or impropriety by this request," she continued nervously, wringing her hands, "You are a calming presence, and my mind could use someone else here… so that it knows that I have assistance in case something were to happen. Even if that 'something' exists only in my dreams." She let out a strained laugh; how embarrassing.
"Of course, Angela," Genji responded without hesitation, "Anything, if it means you sleep peacefully."
"Admittedly, I am not the ideal bedfellow. My Master knows this quite well, if you were to ask-"
"Oh hush," she retorted, scooting back to give him room in the bed, "Your body is precision-machined. No sharp corners or edges to speak of." She gave him a gentle, reassuring look; gesturing to the space next to her. The bed was small, they were bound to come into contact at some point in the night. This fact did not seem to bother Angela, but the cyborg had his own doubts. Genji steeled himself, taking in a sharp breath, before sliding into the space she created. Her bedding was soft, linen with a few home-spun strands in the sheets. Cool to the touch, warm, broken in from years of use.
"If you need anything, do feel free to wake me," she said softly. Reaching out to his chest, she pressed her hand against him. Cool to the touch, she could feel the spinning and hum of his mechanical heart. The tension in her mind and back melted, her eyelids drooping. After a moment, she pulled her hand from him, turning over to her other side.
"… Angela."
"Yes?"
"How should we…?"
Angela turned her head around to meet his face, his expression unsure and cautious. A puff of air, a soft laugh.
"However you are comfortable, Genji," she responded reassuringly. The cyborg swallowed hard, face flushed with embarrassment. A roll of comforter separated his body and hers, but not much else. They could maybe both sleep on their sides, that would be the most successful way to avoid possible contact.
As Angela relaxed back into the mattress, however, she arched her back, pushing her torso ever the more closer to his own. It was either that he would scoot back and fall off the bed, or say something-
"So nervous," she mumbled, "What is the matter?"
"I do not wish to offend you, or make you uneasy in your own bed," he sputtered in exasperation. She turned back around again, giving him a quizzical look. He looked so vulnerable, so uncomfortable. She frowned, feeling as though she had put him in a situation that was only for her own benefit.
"What is it that you want?" she asked gently, "If this is making you uncomfortable, that is the last thing I wish to do-"
"No, that is not it," he said sheepishly, "… I want to hold you. But, are we… there, yet?"
Angela paused, taking what he said in. She then let out a soft coo before backing up even more, pressing her back against his chest.
"I want you to hold me as well," she said tenderly, "Whether we are 'there' or not."
Genji hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder, tracing the curve slowly with his finger. So smooth, soft skin… was she ticklish? Did she bruise easily? Best for him to use caution when handling her…
"Is this where you want that hand?"
"… no… it is cramping up my wrist-"
Angela clicked her tongue before taking his hand and placing it on her hip:
"No hesitations, please." She said this in a way that could boost his own confidence, as well as a request. "I can certainly understand your concern. I am not nearly as delicate as you may believe, in body and sensibility."
Genji allowed his arm to relax, drawing circles on her hipbone, tapping his fingers up her side…
She was not wearing any clothing.
In the flush of excitement and anxiety before, he had not noticed this. There was no break at her waist where a panty might start. Having been intimately involved with many women in the past, his muscle memory could recall that there was where it typically started… but nothing. No shirt, no underwear. That meant her entire body was exposed to him… her stomach, her breasts… her crotch… Genji jerked his hand back, and Angela felt his body tense up again.
"Are you okay, Genji?"
"… you are naked."
"Well, yes. I am."
"…"
"It is better for your health to sleep this way-"
"… I did not notice before."
"I am sorry. If this is all too much-"
"No, no."
Genji slid an arm around her waist, his hand resting on her stomach, with the other on her hip. He pulled her in closer, the heat from her body a comfort.
"This is what I want."
"And it is what I want."
"Then it is settled, Angela. I apologize for my foolishness-"
"Shhh," she chastised, "We are becoming acquainted with each other again, so there are bound to be many discussions like the one we had, about our boundaries and what we want. No need to apologize." He felt her yawn, deep in her chest, expanding ribcage with a stilted exhale.
"Time for sleep?"
"… time for sleep."
"Goodnight, little Sparrow."
"… good night, little Dove."
–
