There was more blood than they liked. Too much red staining their friend's chest and gi. They had seen things like this many times, like when a puma pounced upon a helpless deer and had his meal at his leisure. But this was different. The man who'd done this to their friend wasn't following the law of nature by killing for sustenance; he wasn't even killing in defense. It was just killing. And the way he had laughed…

Bastion wished that they had two hands to bandage Hanzo's wound with. Then they could've tended the archer while he rested in Jesse's arms. As it was, they were forced to lean him against the wall of a secluded wine cellar as the cowboy wrapped a roll of white cloth over the gashes across Hanzo's chest.

Bastion thought that Jesse's arms would've been more comfortable. He certainly seemed happy when he'd fallen asleep on the cowboy's shoulder after a long hunt, no matter how much he growled about not meaning to do so afterwards.

"Ow! Not so tight, idiot!" Hanzo snapped as Jesse pulled on the bandage to tie it off.

Jesse scrunched his face a bit but didn't look away from his work. "Sorry… but can ya keep it down? I don't want them finding us again."

Hanzo huffed but didn't say anything else. They all knew that their pursuers would find them eventually. It was a surprise that this was the only time they'd been able to settle down long enough to tend to the archer's wounds; every other time, they'd been found before they could even get the cloth out.

And this had gone on for hours. Darkness had fallen, and the small group had given up any hope of escaping before dawn. Jesse was fairly good at moving through treacherous terrain at night, but the others were far less skilled in such a task.

Bastion turned to peek out the door. The warforged druid didn't see any mages roaming the paths, but that didn't mean they weren't there. They must be looking harder, they thought, closing the door slowly to keep it from making a sound. Wonder when they will find us. Maybe hours? Maybe my friends can sleep. That would be good.

The cowboy finished bandaging Hanzo silently and flopped down beside him. A few burns from mage fire graced his sleeves, but he was barely injured. Nothing a few days rest wouldn't fix, anyway. The archer's wounds were more severe but weren't life threatening. For that, Bastion would breathe a sigh of relief if they could.

From far off, the sound of spells hitting brick and wood echoed. The mages were probably firing at every single bump and stray wind that knocked a door open. If it kept them busy, then Bastion was grateful for it.

Seconds stretched into minutes that stretched into an hour of uncomfortable silence as the trio huddled down in the cellar, hardly moving for fear that the shifting of their bodies would draw attention to their hiding spot. The warforged peeked out only occasionally, but each time, they were worried about making a noise they couldn't take back.

And then the shouts of "Intruder!" started again.

Bastion was the first to bolt up, ready to pick up Hanzo and run. The men were on their feet in moments, too, the archer still holding his side as he winced. Jesse swore under his breath, but it wasn't any mystery what he said.

"Damn! Thought this was a good hidin' place," the cowboy hissed, drawing his blade in preparation of the door being thrown open. The warforged pulled Hanzo into their arm, unworried about tiring themselves out by carrying him. They were ready to push past a wall of armed mages and knights the moment they dared show their faces.

But nothing happened.

The door remained closed. They remained hidden.

"Doop… doo-wee?"

"I… I don't know," Jesse hazarded a look back to his friends. "I… don't think there were any patrols scheduled."

Hanzo shook his head and pushed Bastion's hand aside to limp up beside the cowboy. "There were no other rangers in the area. Someone must've just gotten very, very unlucky."

There was no hesitation or uncertainty in his voice, and the warforged hung their head. They didn't want anyone else to be hurt just because they happened to stumble upon the garrison while they and their friends were hiding within. It couldn't have been their animal companions, either. Neither Ganymede nor Kai would risk flying in the dark, and Tara was hardly an intruder. Run, Bastion hoped, knowing their thoughts wouldn't reach anyone but thinking them all the same. Run away. You're not safe here. Go. Please.

Bastion gently pushed Jesse to the side as they went up to the door and slowly pushed it open. Nothing to their right. Nothing to their left. Nothing directly ahead. They turned back to their companions and started motioning for them to come up – to possibly take advantage of the mages' distraction – when a quiet pattering of feet drew their attention back outside. Their blade was at the ready before they realized what they were doing. Bastion just barely stopped themselves from thrusting out at the noise before it stopped just short of the door.

"Jesse?"

The voice was soft and flowing, the accent reminding them of Hanzo's but less harsh. Bastion didn't know what to do… what to think. This person knew their friend, but how? None of the mages knew; they'd never called each other's names while in earshot of them. Bastion tilted their head at the cowboy, looking for the answer they couldn't produce.

There was confusion of his face for the briefest of seconds before his eyes widened and a smile split his face. He dashed under the warforged's arm-blade and made to throw the cellar door back.

"What are you doing?! Idiot, get back here," Hanzo hissed, the barest trace of concern softening his whispered order.

Jesse only shrugged as he glanced back at the archer. "Dunno why he's here, but he's a friendly." With that as his only reason, he pushed the door open and scrambled up the stairs onto the pathway outside.

"Bee-doop!" Bastion cried, scooping Hanzo up unceremoniously to follow the cowboy as fast as they could. Outside, Jesse had already found the source of the new voice and embraced the man who was said source.

It was another man, a fair bit shorter than the cowboy. He had been lifted clear off the ground, and yet his chin was just able to rest on his shoulder. He wore black clothes and armor, trimmed with green accents that matched the color of scales that covered his long, thick tail. Two short antlers grew out of his jet black hair, and trails of emerald scales ran along his cheeks and over his arms, which ended in sharp claws that gripped Jesse's serape with the same enthusiasm the cowboy had picked him up with.

"Gods above! I ain't seen you in ages!" he growled happily before setting the draconic man back on the ground. The cowboy didn't completely let go, still resting his hands on the smaller man's shoulders. "You're a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you that."

Hanzo folded his arms over his chest as menacingly as he could. "And you are an idiot for running off and letting every soul within a hundred yards know exactly where you are." The archer tilted his head back so he was looking down his nose at the other men, but Bastion could feel some of the tension leave his injured muscles. They didn't blame him; they were relieved to see someone else who didn't want to murder them.

Jesse gave his friends a sheepish smile that they could see even in the darkness that surrounded them. "Heh heh… sorry 'bout that. I just ain't seen… Well, guess I better introduce ya." He stepped aside to motion at the newcomer. "Guys… this is Genji, one o' my old buddies from Overwatch. Genji… the 'forged is Bastion, and the other's Hanzo."

Whatever tension Hanzo had shed in the previous moments returned ten times as strong. Bastion was simply amazed that he didn't turn to stone at the mere mention of a name. They wondered why but couldn't say anything as Jesse and Genji continued talking.

Time stood still for a moment as Jesse turned to the side and Genji got a good look at his companions. He'd seen older warforged before, ones who were designed purely for combat with no consideration for how they'd interact with the world after the fighting was done. They didn't even have two hands.

But it was the man being held in the hand they did have that truly made the draconic man stop. His hair was beginning to gray, and the beard was new as far as he was concerned. Yet that was a face he would recognize anywhere. A face he looked to for help when he just couldn't get the hang of climbing their father's cherry tree. A face he dreaded seeing when he first woke up after a night of reckless abandon in the town. A face Genji had seen glaring down at him as the man raised that cursed blade above his head.

Hanzo. His beloved brother. His eternal nag. His murderer.

Jesse's cheerful introduction registered in the draconic man's mind, but he was fighting just to keep a calm façade. There were so many things he wanted to say – needed to say – but now wasn't the time or place. Instead he grit his teeth and tried to keep his smile from slipping. "It is an honor to meet you," Genji said tersely. He kept from spitting the words by reminding himself that they were for Bastion too, and the warforged didn't deserve any resentment.

Hanzo barely moved. His jaw worked slightly as he looked to be sizing Genji up, but he couldn't tell if his brother was determining whether he would be seeking revenge or if he simply didn't recognize him. The draconic rogue had changed drastically since their last meeting; he wouldn't put it past the archer to believe him a completely separate person. When Hanzo spoke, it was with the same terseness as Genji. "Likewise. Now, can you explain what's happening here?"

Yes, that is the more pressing issue here, isn't it? Genji clenched his fist as he pushed his personal feelings as far down as they would go and turned to Jesse, who was beginning to look hesitantly between the two brothers. "Catching up will have to wait, my friend. My companions are distracting the Vishkar soldiers at the gate, but they will not be able to hold it long."

"So… how were ya planning on getting us back out? There's only one gate that's not blasted all to bits." Jesse's calm comment was a welcome sound compared to the aggressive silence that hung between Genji and Hanzo. The draconic rogue wished that he was the only one he had to spirit out of the garrison, both for simplicity's sake and to quiet his heart.

Genji sighed, "We only knew that you were here for certain, so I had hoped we could leave the same way I entered… over the wall."

"Chirr woo…" Bastion whirred. It was such a stark contrast to the almost musical quality in Zenyatta's voice that there was a moment in which Genji didn't realize their voice had an almost resigned quality to it.

Hanzo's eyes flicked briefly to the warforged's face before settling back on his brother. "That is most certainly not happening." He didn't elaborate, but the draconic rogue could see the bandages tied around his torso.

Were you always this aggressive when you were injured, brother? he mused, frowning as he met the archer's eyes again. Or is it just my presence that bothers you so? "No, it isn't," he agreed. Genji's heart was beating far too fast, and he couldn't tell if it was in anger at seeing his dear brother in a situation like this or dread at what they had to do next. "We have to leave by the gate."

"Well… darn…" Jesse groaned. Somehow, he was able to make the sound merely annoyed rather than distressed, and that odd calm was exactly what the draconic man needed. If the cowboy hadn't been there… Genji wasn't sure what he would've done. Nothing constructive, that was for sure. "Ya got a way to tell your pals we need more than a distraction about now?"

Genji inclined his head slightly. In the shock of their meeting, he had forgotten about the spell Angela had cast earlier. Closing his eyes and focusing on the image of her in his mind – on her dove white wings and pale yellow hair – he felt the gentle pressure and tingle of magic near the back of his head. Good, it didn't dissipate. Clearing his throat, the draconic man nodded. "I do. Angela… Jesse isn't the only one here. We can't climb the walls, so we'll be going to you through the garrison. If you can, please clear us a path." The spell allowed the cleric to listen to Genji from a long distance away, but the reverse wasn't true. He could only hope that she got the message and that his companions were able to push their enemies aside enough to let them through. Looking back to Jesse's small group, the draconic rogue nodded. "That should be enough. Angela will let the others know. Now, let's-"

"We flank at their weakest point and break through," Hanzo cut him off, pushing himself out of Bastion's arm to stand at his full height. Genji threw him a glare and fought the urge to cross his arms as well. One of them had to be an adult, and it certainly wasn't going to be Hanzo, no matter how good he thought his strategies were. The draconic rogue actually wished he could think of a better plan just so he could berate his brother for interrupting him.

"… Yes," was all he could muster, though. Genji looked sidelong at Jesse, a silent hope that the cowboy could do something he could not.

Jesse shrugged and gave a lopsided grin, going back to Hanzo and patting him on his bare shoulder. "Hey, ease up there, partner. Genji and I go way back; you can trust him."

The daggers Hanzo looked at the cowboy with could cut steel, but he was blessedly silent. Genji snickered wryly under his breath. If only Jesse knew just how much more history the brothers shared, then he would've known that trust was the last thing between them. But it was the one thing they needed to give as they fell into step to follow Jesse, the only neutral party at the moment who could actually talk in more than sad beeps and a low whistle.