Chapter 29: Cigarette Daydreams

Scott's POV, years ago in Gibraltar

I'm losing my mind. I've never been surer of anything in my entire life.

This past week, no matter where I was or what I attempted to distract myself with, Olivia was on my mind. She dominated any and all other forms of logic and reasoning I had left. With Talon's forces fizzling out and our upcoming celebration in Monaco of all places, Olivia was all I could focus on.

Despite everything we've been through and my planned departure approaching quicker than I originally thought, I wanted to spend more time with her. I wanted to talk to her, laugh with her, share a drink with her, anything, it didn't matter as long as it was with her.

At first, I thought I was sick, or something was wrong with me. I'd never felt so uneasy around someone. My palms secreted sweat that they couldn't even make through pores I didn't even have. I'd catch myself holding my breath around her, overanalyzing her every move and trying to calculate the best response I could muster. Knowing her, she reveled in making me so damn uncomfortable.

It was something I really liked about her.

I knew there was something wrong when I found myself staring in the mirror a few days ago, glaring at my reflection as it frowned back at me. I hated my eyes, my scars, my asymmetrical broken nose, my optic lenses zooming in and out unnaturally. Instead of feeling this urge to punch the man staring back at me in the mirror, I felt this overwhelming desire to be better.

Hours were wasted in front of the mirror that morning, I could tell from the sun poking through the blinds behind me. I had tried on everything in my admittedly scarce wardrobe that consisted of almost entirely black shirts and jeans. I trimmed my beard and found myself satisfied with a long stubble and more prominent mustache. For once, I actually tried to style my chin-length hair and swept my raven locks back, though a few hairs refused to not fall in my face, and I eventually gave up on the idea.

Olivia said I looked cute that day as I passed her in the hallways. I brushed it off with a sheepish grin then but felt my cheeks heating up in embarrassment the entire way after our conversation. 'Why the hell am I such a fool for her?' I asked myself but couldn't stay mad for long.

Each day after that, I'd try just as hard to pick out something to wear and try to look presentable for once. And each day after that, I'd look forward to seeing Olivia just to hear a passing comment. I was much too nervous to actually spend more time with her than that, fearing I'd mess things up. Genji teased me, catching onto what I was up to, but I didn't bother excusing it.

Today was very much the same as the other mornings this past week. I settled on the only form of color I had in my closet; I sported a brown cardigan Lena had picked out for me months ago that I never wore along with a white button-down shirt and black jeans. The cardigan was warm and welcoming, just like the woman who gifted it to me.

This time, when I noticed Olivia glancing at me over my usual cup of coffee with Jesse, her eyes lit up when they met mine. They then dropped down to my feet and worked their way up my towering figure, stopping at my chest and lingering before flicking up to my eyes again. She winked and sauntered off, leaving me to gulp down the rest of my coffee to try and settle my nerves, earning a burnt tongue in the process.

"I've never seen a woman undress a man with her eyes before." The cowboy smirked and I kicked him under the table as he laughed at it.

I could feel a smile creeping up on my lips, tugging on the corners of my mouth as I meandered slowly down to my usual spot to think outside of the rooftops here. The sun would always peek out over the horizon and shower the beaches below in its rays. It was a perfect time to as well, the sun was beginning to set and drench the entire base in its auburn glow. I'd bask in its warmth like usual, drawn to the feeling of it on my skin. It made me feel more human than I really was.

Groaning, I relaxed on the railing in front of me and watched the waves crash on the rocks below, the familiar salty scent of the ocean calming me. I was still sore from my training session with Reinhardt, the giant of a man having smacked me into the next decade with his hammer when I was busy daydreaming about Olivia again and wrestling with my feelings for her and my need to be her equal. Reinhardt, the big teddy bear he really was, spent the next ten minutes profusely apologizing for it after I was sent quite literally flying into the wall behind us. He was such an adorable softie deep down.

I chuckled to myself softly, hoping I could get to be as kind and cheerful as he was one day. I'd have to get rid of these voices constantly reminding me that I wasn't good enough first. I'd have to prove myself worthy of his kindness first.

Reaching into my pockets for a cigarette, I stopped when I noticed footsteps approaching me. My enhanced senses allowed me to judge from the familiar perfume that it was Angela well before she stood next to me. The doctor offered a cigarette of her own, one already in her mouth. Happily obliging her, I held it in my mouth as she lit it for me and proceeded to ignite her own. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear color." The doctor remarked, earning a grin from me. "Give me a break, I've gotten enough shit from Jesse today. Thought I'd wear Lena's gift for once, make her stop hassling me."

Breathing the cigarette in deeply for the moment, I savored the familiar taste it left in my mouth, shutting my eyes. A cool breeze flew by, ruffling through my hair. Turning to gaze at Angela, her hair wasn't up in its usual ponytail, instead gently resting on her shoulders. She always looked like an angel, despite her proclivity for cussing me out and the cigarette in her hand.

Snorting, I scratched at my cheek with my free hand. "You know, I'll never get used to seeing you smoking." I mumbled as she exhaled slowly.

"Everyone has their vices, let me have mine." Angela defended the bad habit, sighing heavily. The woman always seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, never once easing up.

"Ah, I'm only teasing. Besides, seems to be one of the few things we both agree on." I laughed, earning a chuckle out of her. I was trying to come out of my shell around her, mostly seeing as I'll be gone soon. I want to at least be on good terms before I go.

"You may be right. I actually enjoy the occasional moments we spend here, as rare as they are. It's refreshing." Angela admitted, taking another drag of her cigarette as I did the same. "Well, that might just be the scenery talking." I stated, basking in the remaining rays of sunshine before they were swallowed by the horizon ahead.

She hummed and nodded in agreement. "Has Genji dragged you off to go suit shopping for the ball yet?" She asked, glancing over at me as I shook my head.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I told him I'd be up early for it tomorrow; he said it might take all night to make me look 'halfway presentable'." I used air quotes, Angela smiling softly at me.

"I'm sure he'll send me pictures and ask my opinion on which ones you both should go with." She spoke softly. I placed my cigarette in my lips, tightening them into a thin line as I focused on the day. It was going to be hell. I hated dressing up. I never felt comfortable, no matter what I wore.

Angela noticed the grim look on my face, stepping closer to me and nudging me slightly. "Come now, wipe that sour look off your face. You've been through worse battles." She reminded me, making me smile. "I had you to help keep me alive in those battles. I'll be on my own now. Maybe worse, Lena might come too."

I was mostly joking, now at this stage in my life appreciating every waking moment I had with them, despite my inadequacy. It was a family that I wanted to be a part of one day.

"Then I'll come with and back you up." Angela grinned brightly at me, making me stumble under her gaze. I suddenly felt even more nervous around her. "Nah, it's all good. You've got bigger troubles to worry about."

"Sombra would never forgive me if I let them tear you limb from limb." She joked, making me chuckle. Analyzing the beaches below, I spotted Olivia walking along the shores with Lena, discussing something as they both laughed. My grin widened upon seeing them.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Angela asked, looking at me with a knowing smile. "Oh, um... yeah, yeah she is." I stuttered, avoiding her cool blue eyes.

"Think you'll ask her to dance at the ball?" She teased, prodding me further. Huffing, I quickly shook my head. "Not a chance. All those cameras on her, I'd be a death sentence, and that's if she didn't die from embarrassment beforehand."

Finishing her cigarette, Angela remained quiet for a moment, probably looking at Lena and Olivia as they walked by down below. I couldn't tear my eyes off them. They both changed my life, given me so much more than I could ever repay.

"Would you die for her?"

At first, I was going to laugh, taking her question as a joke. But her face was deadly serious, eyes fixated solely on me once more, unflinching.

Thinking on everything I've done for her, every battle I've been in, the people I've killed, innocent or otherwise, all in the name of her dream to change the world around us, I couldn't deny it. Russia, in that frozen hellscape of a forest, I illustrated I wouldn't hesitate to die for her.

"Happily." I answered honestly, feeling remarkably vulnerable. Angela lips curled upwards into a light grin.

"Then you should at least be willing to dance with her."

I nodded softly, taking in her words and mulling them over. She had a point. After everything I've done, I was more afraid of a dance than I was to give my own life for hers.

Grinning smugly, I met Angela's friendly eyes again. "Then I suppose it's up to you to try and make me look good enough to dance with."

Laughing, she leaned against the railing beside me. "You know, I'm not a miracle worker."

A faint grin was tugging on the corners of my mouth, the memory of Angela distracting me from my discomfort for the time being. For once, my memory wasn't being haunted by her final moments, blood splattered onto the ground below, Olivia staring straight into my very soul.

For once, I could just remember her, her soft voice, kind smile, and unmatched work ethic. I had nearly forgotten what she was like.

Efi dragged me back to reality like always, tugging on the tattered edge of my dark shirt, frayed and burned as it was. She had finally convinced me to come along with her to grab new clothes, she claimed I stood out too much. I had opened my mouth to retort, but the fond memory of Angela and the others helping me pick out a suit for the ball in Monaco pushed me to go along with it in an attempt to relive the short-lived happiness.

That, and apparently Hanzo was some fucking expert in fashion, judging by his comments.

It had been a week since he "joined", and every day I battled the urge to punch him in the mouth. Perhaps I was only perceiving it, but there was this air of superiority and judgmental gazes he'd send my way that drove me up a wall. Efi seemed to be enough to calm me and help me focus on the help he could give us.

She was right, for the most part. We had trained lightly in the nearby hills overlooking the city. It wasn't a far walk, and thankfully Hanzo was as keen on silence as I was.

Every time I was left panting and gasping for air, still recovering from Genji's blade, but Hanzo was helping me get a grip on my anger, despite causing it most of the time. He had shown me a few breathing techniques, which required him to get closer to me than I'd like, our noses practically touching the first time he'd shown me. With the right frame of mind, I could summon Genji's guardian spirit, or Midori, I often forgot he had a name, and have him run along my titanium limbs without injury.

A small, anemic little part of me thought he was cute.

What I struggled with was keeping composure and staying calm. A certain rage I've kept bottled within me was hard to keep well-tempered, often boiling out of me and leading to Midori beginning to erupt into a raging inferno in response. Thinking of Olivia or those I lost was all it took to transform into a whirlwind of flames.

"Midori is tied to you, as he was to my brother. Your emotions feed his. For you to control him, you must first learn to control yourself. Something you've clearly never had experience in." Hanzo had told me. He proved himself correct when his last little jab was enough to make Midori shoot a flame up my arm in response.

"Try to make this 'shopping trip' quick, we mustn't have eyes on us for long." Hanzo reminded us for the second time today, ripping me from my thoughts. Efi turned and stuck her tongue out at him, I in turn flipped him off. "Tsk, you are perfect for each other." He grumbled in response to our childish rebuttal to his comment.

"Yeah, yeah, this was partly your idea too." I replied, earning a scoff from the dark-haired man. "Hardly, I simply stated that your attire does us no favors in remaining inconspicuous."

"Truer words have never been spoken. Besides, way too many bloodstains to look normal." Efi joked, making me scowl at the both of them as Efi rummaged through the racks of clothes, Hanzo crossing his arms in front of his chest and pouting like usual.

The store wasn't too busy, so we certainly stood out, but one good glare seemed to make the one teenager behind the counter avoid confronting us. Not like I'd scare other customers anyways.

"Oh, well excuse me for not being a fashion icon when I set out to murder every Talon agent I could find." I growled, scratching at my scarred chin in frustration.

"Stop being a sour puss and actually look for something decent, Scottie. And be nicer to Hanzo, he's paying after all." Efi reprimanded me like a mother would their disobedient child, almost making me laugh at the absurdity.

"I don't recall agreeing to this-"

"We'll hash it out later," Efi interrupted, withdrawing some Hawaiian button-down shirt with palm trees on it from the racks and holding it up to me, as if checking if it matched my color wheel. I met her eyes, remaining eye twitching in annoyance. "Seriously?"

"What? I thought maybe it'd help give off the vibe that you're just two dads with their adopted daughter. We'd blend right in!" Efi grinned brightly at me. Hanzo and I glared at one another.

"Not a fucking chance."

"Preposterous." We both denied the idea vehemently at the same time, earning a disgruntled frown from Efi. "You guys are no fun."

I sighed and began to peruse through the options I had, feeling nostalgic for the moment. A part of me could hear Genji teasing me, trying to find suit pants that fit snugly around my waist. In hindsight, it was one of the most enjoyable days I had with them. My past self, the stubborn, hopeless fool I was, would've never admitted to having fun while shopping. I never knew what I had until it was lost to me.

My eye widened when I met a familiar fabric and style of clothing. Matte black, broad in the chest, narrow along the stomach, covered my titanium limbs, collar covering my neck. It checked all the boxes and brought me back, the design reminiscent of what I had worn during my time with Overwatch.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to slip back into something that reminded me of home.

Hanzo huffed behind me, brooding eyes analyzing my decision over my shoulder. Efi smiled lightly as she stood beside me, shaking her head.

"Anything is preferable to what you've been wearing, I suppose." Hanzo grumbled.

Efi looked up at me, then back at it. "Well, at least it isn't all black."

Efi's POV

I'd never seen Scott walk around with what seemed like confidence, yet here he was, sauntering into the small run-down shop with a light smirk on his lips.

He seemed perfectly at home in his new outfit, consisting of a dark, sleek trench coat with gold paisley fabric running down the shoulders and over his chest, along with black pants and a dark grey turtleneck. His body seemed even more muscular given the armor he wore underneath, stripped from his old clothes and haphazardly jammed beneath his new attire.

He covered up most of his body and insisted on dark greys and blacks as his only colors, aside from the gold design. I tried to convince him some color would be nice, maybe a white to match his hair, but his knowing smile in the mirror told me otherwise.

A part of me wanted to laugh, but there was a sentimentality to his mannerisms and the way he held himself in his new coat and clothes. It was like slipping into a new skin of his. Or maybe an old one instead.

Hanzo and I had ventured to the back of the convenience store, a familiar hum of electricity flowing through iridescent lights that painted the store in white reminding me of the orphanages I was in during my childhood. It made me shutter, but Hanzo didn't notice, too busy furrowing his brows at what he considered to be "ghastly overpriced" rice crackers.

Scott on the other hand was busy conversing with the shop keeper at the front, his red aviator sunglasses helping to conceal his identity from the older gentleman. It surprisingly helped cover his missing eye and a handful of scars.

The man's grey mustache moved up with his thin lips as he smiled innocently at Scott, despite his massive size and the katana now awkwardly hanging from his back, his sheathe not fitting the way it used to on his old equipment. "Pack of cigs, whatever is cheapest," Scott grumbled, drumming his mechanical fingers along the counter as he waited. "And... whatever else these two get, they're with me."

I smiled despite the gesture being so mundane, but it was good to hear that he considered us part of his entourage. The Scott I met would've waltzed out without me.

My smile dissipated when I noticed a group of rowdy teenagers approaching the store, many of whom couldn't look more like a delinquent if they tried. Some of them fashioned old pipes and bats, while one with a large pompadour and patchy facial hair brandished a handgun. "God damnit." I muttered, nudging Hanzo with an elbow.

"Indeed." He replied, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that fell from his slick ponytail. He hadn't brought his bow, but his calloused hands clenched into fists.

Personally, I snagged the nearest glass jar and held it firmly in my hands, prepared to bash it over someone's head.

Scott stood there without a care in the world as they entered, not even bothering to turn to them as they stumbled into the shop. He instead ignited a fresh cigarette from his pack, inhaling deeply and sighing heavily.

Hanzo watched as the punk in charge placed a gun up to Scott's head as he walked to his side, another two surrounding him with lead pipes. He didn't even bat an eye.

The remaining thugs meandered over towards Hanzo and I, who preemptively stepped in front of me. My eyes were still focused on Scott, wondering what his first move would be.

"Empty the register, just like last time, or I'm gonna splatter Gramps over here!" The teen demanded, flicking the safety off his gun and cocking the hammer back. The older man behind the register seemed terrified of the punks, which almost made me laugh. Scott could handle them with both hands behind his back.

"Gramps... really?" Scott took another drag of his cigarette and savored it, exhaling the smoke as he looked up at the tile ceiling above.

"What, think I won't do it?!" He shouted, another punk snickering behind Scott's back. "Run your pockets, old man, or else we'll have to waste a bullet on you."

Scott met the shopkeeper's eyes and smiled, which seemed to unsettle him more than anything else. Hanzo glared at those standing in front of us, stance widening before the inevitable first strike.

"Say," Scott began, pointing at a jar of candy on the counter. "How much for one of these?"

It threw the group surrounding him off guard as they glanced at what he was pointing at, giving him the opportunity to bash his elbow into the gunman's nose and jab him in the stomach so hard he curled into a ball on the floor. The other two behind him swung wildly at his head, but his foot met the nearest one's kneecap, toppling him over and into the window beside him with a crash. The remaining of the trio charged him. Scott swiftly disarmed him and swept his feet out from under him, slamming his head into the counter and leaning his elbow on his neck.

Hanzo rushed the two who came near us, hitting them both with an open palm strike and using his agility to send both careening back into the shelves behind them with a roundhouse kick.

The one who owned the gun, as well as a now thoroughly disheveled pompadour, was struggling to crawl over to his weapon while Scott put out his cigarette on the other teen's temple as he shrieked.

I bashed the glass jar over his head, knocking him out as an assortment of candies came tumbling out onto the floor. It caught Scott's attention, who grinned.

"Not bad, kiddo."

A faint blush covered my cheeks, and I smiled without telling myself to.

The shopkeeper emerged from behind the counter, his greying hair a mess, dark skin drenched in sweat as his brown eyes danced along the chaos we made.

"Sorry about the mess. We'll be out of your hair." I grinned apologetically, trying to nudge Scott into being less unnerving as he finished knocking out the remaining thief.

"You're sorry?" He asked, looking up at us three as Hanzo waltzed up behind us. "Apologies for the intrusion. We'll be on our way." Hanzo stated awkwardly, but the shopkeeper held a shaky hand up and smiled brightly.

"You three just stopped a robbery and you're asking for forgiveness? I should be thanking you three! You were amazing, dealing with these damn rowdy kids so handily!"

Scott laughed, scratching at his nose. "Seemed like this joint is their old stomping grounds, some kind of regular hit for them. Least we could do. Give us a minute to scram before you call the police, don't need them hassling us."

"Now, hold on just a minute! You two wouldn't happen to be bounty hunters, would ya?" He asked genuinely, pointing at Hanzo and Scott. Hanzo quickly dismissed the accusation with a shake of his head.

"No, not at all. We're just passing through-"

"You got work for us? Seems like these brats have been preying on you a while now." Scott interrupted with a toothy grin, activating some form of charm I'd never seen him radiate before. Never thought it possible, in all honesty.

"Not just me. Every local shop in the North districts of this city has been dealing with them. Cops are damn useless in these parts, I tell ya. Can't say you'd make a fortune, but we'd all be willing to chip in, provided you drop in and show us some proof."

I was going to stop Scott from continuing the conversation before a realization struck me. We needed money, desperately. Why not use Scott's nearly sadistic love of violence for a good cause?

"You guys know where these lowlifes are at?" I stepped in, leaning my elbows on the table and resting my head on my hands. With a curious raise of an eyebrow and a moment to ponder why two bounty hunters travelled with some girl, he nodded. "'Course. Too many of 'em for us shop owners to have a chance of scaring them away, but you two? They'd take one look at you and turn tail."

Hanzo rolled his eyes as Scott glanced at him, adjusting his turtleneck and grinning greedily at the shopkeeper behind his aviator shades. "I'm listening."

Scott's POV

This was going to be easy money.

'I could blow this door off its hinges by looking at it the wrong way.' I thought to myself, whistling as I wandered up to the door of where the shopkeeper told us those idiots would be. The hardest part of this job would be not killing the worthless shitheads.

Stopping in my tracks, I looked up at Hanzo as he clambered his way up to the roof with grace, barely a hair falling out of place as he pulled himself up.

"Let us be done with this swiftly." Hanzo advised, making me frown. "What, got a hot date lined up?" I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the sight of him scowling in response. The man practically recoiled at every reply I offered him.

"No, I mean to cook us a meal that will actually be edible for once upon our arrival. Not that I expect either of you two to appreciate it." He remarked with a scoff, making me sigh. "Oh, joy. Just make sure the ingredients are cheap, we ain't making millions off this."

"You, of all people, should not lecture me on frugality. Your gaudy coat was triple the price of what any reasonable person would spend on clothes." Hanzo spat while glaring down at me, the moonlight making his sharp features appear even more harsh. "Yeah, yeah. I was kind enough to steal these pants I got to save you some money, jackass."

"Yes, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that petty theft is the extent of your supposed kindness." He sneered, making me flip him off the second time today.

Using my raised hand to knock on the door, Hanzo stopped me. "Remember your training. Show me that you can control Midori." He reminded me, making me sigh. "Ugh, like I'd even need him for these guys." I complained. "Which makes it perfect practice." He finished, not waiting for me as he slipped into a window below him with ease.

Deciding on not knocking and saving myself the bother, I kicked the door right below the handle, blasting it off the hinges and into the unlucky dumbass I could hear behind it.

It was as messy and disgusting as I expected it to be, all sorts of garbage covering the floor of the abandoned home. Holes littered the foundations of the walls, spiraling hallways all leading to the entrance I had just barged into. "Housekeeping!" I yelled, pulling Genji's sword from my sheathe and focusing on my breathing like Hanzo taught. I felt like an idiot even listening to him but decided that I'd rather not deal with his bitching on the way back if I refused.

My single eye met the dozens of thugs squatting here, most of them barely old enough to shave. 'I guess no killing after all.'

"Get this asshole!" One of the larger men ordered, most of them charging me on command. A teenager approached from behind, but my enhanced hearing notified me of his presence well before he could attack me. I dropped slightly, left hand jabbing out to catch him by the collar of his shirt, right hand ripping him up off his feet while preventing Genji's blade from stabbing him through the chest. I used his momentum against him, hurling him into the oncoming train of thieves coming for me.

"Over here, you fools!" Hanzo bellowed, having slipped behind them from above and withdrawing an arrow from his quiver. His tattoo from under his recently stitched jacket glowed with a bright, familiar blue light that contrasted with Genji's guardian spirit. The house began to shake, the floor beneath his strong legs cracking as he raised his arrow up to the roof and prepared to fire. "RYUU GA WAGA TEKI WO KURAU!"

A dragon roared to life from his bow and arrow, shattering through the roof with ease and leaving naught but rubble behind. The cowards fell back in fear, paralyzed by the show of strength. Hanzo's dragon shook the very heavens above as it soared into the sky, shining brighter than the moon behind it. His dragon swiftly turned and dove straight into the large group, opening its wide maws and hissing. I was mesmerized for the moment, never having gotten used to these spirits.

"NOW, SCOTT!" Hanzo ordered, tearing me from my stupor and giving me the chance to show my learned ability. 'Steady your breathing, visualize yourself with the dragon. You must flow together as one. Allow your rage to wash over you, guide your hand and your blade. Let the calm oceans that reside within you to come crashing down in a torrent on your foes.' Hanzo's teachings were echoing in my mind, helping me remember to not let the dragon control me and to instead harness it.

I could feel the warmth spreading up my arms, Midori springing to life in Genji's blade and flowing across my shoulders gently, wrapping himself around my back and purring almost like a cat. 'It doesn't hurt. Genji, I think I fucking did it!' I found myself smiling, before focusing on the idiots in front of me. 'Don't kill them, just scare the shit outta them, Midori!'

Yelling, I swung the katana down before sweeping it upwards in a smooth motion, sending the flames that covered my arms onto Midori as he sprawled out and charged into them.

Midori flew up into the air with an elegance that I never thought I could direct in anything, let alone a spiritual dragon, entangling himself with Hanzo's dragon, seemingly dancing directly above the men who were still too terrified to move. I stared in awe, watching the blue and green flames compete with the stars above over which could shine brighter.

Hanzo met my eye, a small proud grin spreading on his lips as he nodded at me in acknowledgement. Guiding both Hanzo and Genji's guardian spirits downwards, I tightened my reins over the both of them and melted a hole through the brittle walls with their flames, giving them the chance to flee. "LEAVE THE PEOPLE HERE ALONE! THEY'RE NOW UNDER OUR PROTECTION! FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR WORTHLESS LIVES!"

My warning seemed to get the message across, most of them having sprinted out of the abandoned building before I could find the strength to speak. Controlling them was draining and far more physically demanding than I could've anticipated. I used what little I had left to chase the few stragglers off, containing my laughter as they tripped over one another to get out of there. Once I was sure they wouldn't be coming back, I fell to my knees.

Hanzo recalled his dragon with the snap of his fingers, the flash of blue light soon eliminated and dissipating back into his tattoo. My silhouette was still casted onto the walls, green flames spreading around me as Midori caressed my body, roaring with anger and beginning to burn my skin. 'You think that's enough to abscond you of your sins?' Genji's voice returned, taunting me as my blood began to boil. 'She took everything from us, left you with nothing. Some pet dragon is enough to make you forget about all that?!'

"No, you're wrong, Genji! I wouldn't-!" I yelled, feeling a familiar consuming hatred take over, green flames crackling and spreading up towards my face. I was beginning to shout in both agony and rage, gripping Genji's katana with enough force to shatter bone. Olivia began to laugh in my mind, that haunting smile she gave me as Lena begged for help followed my every waking moment. Hanzo rushed over to me, kneeling down in front of me, a concern in his dark eyes.

"Scott! Focus on me, on what I taught you! Don't lose control!" He urged me, placing a hand on my titanium limbs, the sensation dragging me back to reality and tearing me away from their voices for the moment. I dropped Genji's blade, letting it skitter across the floor as I groaned, smoke flowing from the tips of my hair.

"You fool! I taught you to control your breathing!" Hanzo scowled, earning a few weak coughs from me as I tried to catch my breath. The burning sensation was gone, and Midori disappeared back into Genji's sword. "Yeah, guess all my smoking caught up with me." I deflected his anger with a joke, gaining an exasperated sigh in response.

"Do you ever take anything seriously?" He demanded, some of his anger fading as he sat next to me. I looked up at the stars twinkling in the night sky from the hole we blasted in the roof. Reaching into my coat pocket, I grabbed a cigarette from the carton and placed it in my scarred mouth. I extended my other hand outwards, offering Hanzo a cigarette as well. Hanzo looked down at it in disgust.

"Come on, indulge me, for once." I pushed it up to his lips, fingers gracing his beard accidentally as I made him accept the cigarette. Sighing, Hanzo took it from my hands and put it in his mouth just the same as I did, letting me fumble with the lighter to light it for him.

We both sat there for a moment, wind rustling through his ponytail as he coughed lightly, not used to smoking like I was. "I don't get the appeal." He muttered, exhaling a puff of smoke from his nose. "I never did either. At least, not the way most people do." I replied, reminded of Gibraltar and the family I lost. Hanzo offered me a puzzled look, but I decided not to delve too deep into the reason I smoked. He wouldn't get it.

"You... you said Genji's name when it took control." He prodded me. I bit my lip, weighing what to say to make this situation go away.

"Yeah. I hear his voice, a lot these days." I answered, meeting his face as his lips tightened into a thin line, holding some emotion back as he glanced down. "I did too, for a while."

I was shocked to hear it, raising an eyebrow at him. "After you... thought you lost him?" I asked, stumbling with how to word it as to avoid an argument. "Yes. He haunted my every move, his screams, his laughter, all of it. He was all I saw."

Taking a shaky drag of my cigarette, I tried to hold in the grief and guilt bubbling over inside me, threatening to spill out. Hanzo met my eyes, a familiar grief hiding behind his dark brown irises.

"How did you two meet?" His voice was barely above a whisper. Shifting uncomfortably for a second, I was forced to revisit my past, a thing I tried to avoid at all costs. "He saved me. Him and the others at Overwatch. They lifted me up from my lowest point and brought me back. He was one of my best friends. We'd spend hours just talking and looking at the stars, sharing stories. It's how I first heard about you."

"I presume I wasn't a fun story." Hanzo looked dejectedly up at the stars, and I grinned. "Nah, I first heard about you from some childhood story. Something about him telling a joke you thought was so funny you snorted and shot hot tea out of your nose and onto your dad."

I had never seen Hanzo laugh, let alone grin for much longer than a second, but he did. It was a nice laugh, controlled and polite, yet reminiscent of his younger brother. I was starting to see more of Genji in him.

"I had forgotten about that story. But now that you mention it, I can recall the way my nose burned vividly. It was the one time I had been scolded for lack of manners." Hanzo smiled, causing me to smile and look up at the stars and think of Genji. 'Ever imagined it'd be like this, Genji?' I thought to myself.

"Genji was always happy, even when he told a story about you. It was a painful memory for him, sure, but not from a lack of closure or forgiveness. I think he just missed you." I offered comfort, feeling drawn to him out of similarity. "The feeling is mutual." His eyes cascaded down to the floor again, smile fading.

"He first saw me," I began actually recounting how we met, "covered in blood and surrounded by dead Talon agents. Guess I've come full circle." I joked but didn't find any humor in it once I said it. Hanzo looked at me, curious and listening intently. "I was with Talon before, a long story in itself, but Olivia ordered them to save me. I was going to die without medical attention, alone and afraid."

"My first interaction with him was him throwing a shuriken at my head to test my reaction speed." I laughed, an image of him smiling down at me with his head in his hands filling my vision. Only now was I really feeling the hole they left behind in my heart, grief eating at me once more.

"I miss him too. All of them." I admitted, incapable of bottling up everything I felt. Rage was the only way I tried to cope with what I lost. But what good was it doing for me?

We sat in silence, Hanzo nodding slowly and closing his eyes. "I was planning on making his favorite meal tonight, if you'd like to help me shop for ingredients. We'll have to report to the shopkeepers in the markets anyways."

A soft grin replaced my frown. I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at a few loose strands. "Knowing Genji's tastes, it'll cost us our whole reward." I joked, and Hanzo chuckled.

"It'll be worth it."

Efi's POV

Smiling in satisfaction after having completed a personal project was one of the greatest joys in life. I never felt more at home than when tinkering with scrap metal and creating all sorts of contraptions. It had been a while since my last project, never having the opportunity to knock the rust off with Scott, but I was back in my element here with time to myself. Scott and Hanzo had been gone longer than I suspected, but it was good. Unless they ended up killing each other. The more I thought about it the more it seemed plausible.

At the very least it gave me time to finish working on my gift. 'Well, hopefully a gift and not a reason for Scott to punch me in the face.' I brushed my anxious thoughts to the back of my mind, focusing on tweaking the little modifications on the holographic image I'd set up for him, testing it over and over to make sure it would function. Now I'd just have to convince him to let me monkey with his titanium limbs to attach it to him.

That was the hard part, honestly.

'He will appreciate it in time, but is now the right occasion?' I couldn't help but ask myself, standing up from my desk and washing my face to try and wake up. My eyes were tired from being so focused on tiny intricate parts of a holograph projector, but in the end it was worth it.

The door to my, or rather our, place opened behind me, with Scott and Hanzo walking in side by side carrying large bags of groceries. A wild assortment of vegetables poked out from the top of the bag Scott carried in his hands, a small smile decorating his scarred visage. It was a welcome sight.

Hanzo and Scott had been laughing about something as they walked in, both of their usually hard and brooding exteriors softened and seemed almost inviting. "I'm amazed they have authentic wagyu beef here." Hanzo stated, regarding me with a curt nod as he set out straight into the kitchen. "I'm telling you, it's gotta be synthetic. Who the hell eats traditional Japanese meals in Numbani?" Scott replied peeling off his jacket and scratching at the back of his neck.

I smiled, hiding my gift to Scott in my pocket before he'd notice it. "What got into you two? You're sure making fast friends."

Scott and Hanzo locked eyes, Hanzo having stopped setting up the cutting boards he'd bought and shrugged lightly. "We worked together well; he even seemed to try and take our lessons into account while we dealt with those scoundrels."

"Besides, I still think he's a witless moron." Hanzo finished with a huff, as Scott began setting down the bags of groceries next to his cutting boards in my old kitchen, the place so small the large men could hardly fit at the same time. Scott scoffed lightly and unhooked his sheathe from his back, taking great care to place the katana down tenderly as always. "Yeah, eat shit and die."

Rolling my eyes at them, I chuckled lightly. "Hope I'm not interrupting your wedding vows, but I was wondering if I could borrow Scott for a second." I teased them both and Scott glanced at me, curiosity morphing his menacing face. Hanzo nodded while diligently setting out to work. "It will take a bit to prepare sukiyaki, you're welcome to wait so long as whatever entertains you keeps you from bothering me during this. I fear this buffoon could burn water if given half a chance."

"Sukiyaki? Sounds fancy." I replied, earning a small smile from the Japanese man. "Hardly, but I guarantee it'll beat that farce you call a ramen shop."

Ignoring his arrogant comment on my, in my opinion, refined palate, I followed Scott as he moved to his belongings near his sleeping bag. Wasn't exactly private, seeing as the kitchen was scarcely 10 feet away, but Hanzo seemed so engrossed in the preparation of our meal that I doubt he'd notice a gunshot.

"Am I in trouble?" Scott asked and for a second didn't seem to be joking. "No, no, not at all. Just wanted to um, oh now that I think about it this is so stupid..."

I was struggling to try and explain what I had worked on or even make this sound remotely natural, or at least less awkward. Scott's eyebrows furrowed, turning to me as he sat down on his sleeping bag. He patted the part of the bag next to him, inviting me to sit. "Spit it out, Efi."

His voice was hoarse, but softer than usual. His remaining eye wasn't staring at me in annoyance or rage, instead an uncharacteristic patience washing over his features. Maybe it was just the new outfit playing tricks on my mind, making him seem more human than the ironclad tank of a man I met.

"Give me your hand." I ordered sternly, trying to compensate for my nerves. Never in my life would I have thought I'd be giving a gift to Scott of all people. 'But it wasn't a hard project, nor did it take very long.' I reasoned with myself, denying the truth.

I just wanted to give him a gift, something to help comfort him. To give him something better than some wrinkled old photo. I couldn't wash away his grief, just as he couldn't for my own. But I'd like to try.

Scott acquiesced and placed his hand out while staring at me, watching with great interest as I began to latch the projector onto his wrist. His titanium limbs were surprisingly malleable along the wrist, giving plenty of space for me to adjust it accordingly so it fit. "What the hell is this?"

"Just give me a second." I hushed him, configuring with his prosthetic and making sure it would work properly. Finally satisfied with my work, I sat back and looked up at him. "Good to go. Just don't um, don't be mad, please?"

Scott clicked his tongue, staring at the device inquisitively. "It's not gonna blow up, right?"

I flicked him on the side of his head with my finger, making him chuckle softly. "Just press the button right there, it should work just fine." I said while pointing.

He pressed the button cautiously, as if his prior question wasn't entirely a joke.

Scott's eye saddened immediately upon recognizing the picture the holograph in the device projected, staring at his past self laughing with his fellow agents at Overwatch. He seemed to be an entirely different person then, both of his augmented eyes holding a merriment I'd never seen from him.

His hand rested on Hanzo's brother, wrapping around his shoulder lovingly. Both were decorated in the finest suits, fancy ballroom guests engulfing the massive room behind the group in the picture. Reinhardt, one of my favorites growing up, stood behind both of them with Jesse McCree leaning on him, his smile lighting up the entire holograph. Tracer, or Lena Oxton, a poster child of the once proud organization laid a hand on Scott's chest, winking at the camera. Angela Ziegler, the world-renowned doctor laughing by Genji's side, a light blush on her cheeks.

Besides all of them stood Olivia Colomar, so far removed from the woman she seemed to be on all the holovids and protests. She was beautiful beyond compare; dark blue, almost purple eyes fixated on the camera as an angelic smile spread across her face.

It was surreal to see Scott standing shoulder to shoulder with my childhood heroes, let alone seeing him with two eyes and smiling so joyfully and carefree. To see the contrast between him now and who he used to be, I could only imagine the terrors inflicted on him and everyone he lost.

For a split second, I realized that this was all a mistake. I only succeeded in bringing painful memories to the forefront of his mind, serving as a bitter reminder of bygone days.

His lip began to quiver, strong jaw trembling as stray tears worked their way out of his eye. I began to open my mouth to apologize to him, but I stopped as I noticed the corners of his mouth curve upwards in a faint smile.

Scott turned to me, not even bothering to hide his tears or force his trauma to the back of his mind to be forgotten like usual, his smile widening. I was in shock but met his eye and smiled back.

"Guess I should stop trying to run from them. Efi... thank you."

His sincerity caught me off guard, voice cracking and making him seem small and fragile, forcing me to swallow my nerves and pretend that it was no big deal. "Don't mention it, Scott. I figured they should always be with you." I wrung my fingers in my hands apprehensively. "I'll go try to bug Hanzo about food, see if I can't be of use." I finished, excusing myself and backing away for a moment.

His cold, metallic hand reached out and grabbed mine, drawing my attention back to him. An earnest grin was on his lips, tears still on his cheeks.

Scott gave my hand a gentle, compassionate squeeze.

"Be right behind ya, kiddo."

I'm only crying a little, I swear.

This one was extra long and extra heartfelt, even more so than I originally intended, but no complaints from me. I really enjoy just writing a draft and letting the characters naturally draw me to conclusions instead of trying to plan every detail out ahead of time and force myself down a certain path. Though this final scene I've been playing with in my head for months and couldn't wait to write it.

I am officially bringing back the trench coat for Scott because a sleek trench coat is sick.

Hanzo seems to be a great fit for Scott and helps to alleviate my worries about a lack of interesting side characters. With any luck Hanzo can help Scott accept Genji's death and stop blaming himself. But that's a lot of character development left to go.

I'm so glad to finally be able to start getting to Scott's core as a character and push past his wrathful persona to get a genuine view of who he is. He's traumatized, grieving and hopelessly lost, but with the help of Efi and Hanzo he's starting to see that legitimately grieving and processing his loss is much better than sinking even lower into despair and giving into rage.

Not to say he's not going to continue struggling with his survivor's guilt, conceived lack of self-worth, and the voices of the dead, as grief isn't so quickly processed.

Expressing some of my own personal grief and guilt in life through Scott means more to me than you'd know, so thank you all for taking the time out of your lives to follow his journey with me and giving me the motivation to keep writing and creating.

As for next chapter, I'm starting to think it's about time Scott and Olivia came face to face once more. Maybe, just maybe.

Take care of yourselves, everyone. See you all soon.