A/N: Guess who saw the Magnificent Seven?
Chapter Summary: Though the former Junker is far from his ideal partner, when they find themselves cornered on what was supposed to be a simple mission, besieged by an enemy they cannot hope to match and cut off from their allies, Hanzo doesn't hesitate.
One of them needs to make it out of that canyon alive.
Pressing a palm against his against the source of the crimson ruining his traditional garb, Hanzo ducked quickly behind the boulder, crouching low as the one known as Junkrat gleefully launched grenades at their enemy.
They'd been ambushed.
It was supposed to have been a routine surveillance mission, a chance for the archer and the mad bomber to find a rhythm to their teamwork, as Morrison had observed that their clashing personalities and stubbornness were preventing them from reaching any sort of understanding that would allow for a fully functioning team.
"You don't have to like each other," he'd told them. "You just need to put aside your differences long enough to complete the mission. That's all I'm asking."
As the warm liquid spread, darkening blue silk into a midnight violet, Hanzo realized with a stifled groan that he should have turned the man down, commander or not.
"You alright there, cobber?" Stomach screaming as torn flesh and muscle stretched, Hanzo rolled on his side to catch Junkrat shooting him a wary glance, though it ended quickly as the Talon agents constantly trying to swarm their position required his constant attention, especially when his grenades and traps were the only force keeping the Talon agents gathered on the other side of the canyon from overwhelming them with their numbers.
With so many bullets whizzing through the moistureless air, perhaps Hanzo shouldn't have been surprised that one of them had found its mark. One poor shot would have never found their mark, but with a small army of them and an inexhaustible amount of ammo, the odds were on their side.
Pushing past the debilitating pain, Hanzo growled as he nocked Storm Bow with three arrows, "I am fine. Do not waste your concern on me." He released the bow, feeling the mild sting on his cheek as the shafts rushed past to fly in a long, high arc, before burrowing their heads deep into the ribcages of three soldiers who'd so foolishly stepped within his range.
Impressed, Junkrat leaned back with a low whistle, "And here I thought that stick of yours was just for show." A shark-like grin spread across his face as a group of armed soldiers suddenly disappeared in a roaring cloud of dust and flame. "Think you can keep up with these babies?" He reached over, patting the pile of explosives between them with noticeable fondness.
A rapid popping assaulted their ears. Chips of their boulder became projectiles of their own as the Gatling gun Talon fired upon their position ate away at what little shelter they had. Soon, there would be nothing left.
Besides the disadvantage of the flat terrain, something was jamming the comm links. Though it wouldn't be long before Winston or Morrison sent reinforcements - regular check-ins were required for the purpose of discerning exactly such an occasion - there was no way of knowing when they would be arriving or even if they'd been sent.
Worst case scenario – the team arrived to find both of their corpses strewn across the battlefield.
Clutching his wound, Hanzo's weary expression twisted into a pained grimace.
He refused to accept such an outcome.
Before Junkrat returned his focus to the battlefield, he registered the considering glance Hanzo spared the pile. "We shall see." Though he managed to hear the solemn reply over the dull, distant cacophony of yet another triggered mine, he didn't think much of it until the archer ran unprotected out into the open, braving the assault as he fired arrows into the droves of approaching enemies.
A soldier seated on the back of a black stallion drove his horse to race towards him, intending to trample the man beneath the animal's hooves, but Hanzo dodged swiftly, too fast for such a maneuver even in his weakened state, grabbed the soldier by the vest, and dragged him off, claiming the horse for himself.
Though there wasn't any time, he ran a hand along the taut muscles of the beast's sweat-drenched neck, then urged it forward, driving it into the endless barrage of lead raining down on them.
"Get back here!" Junkrat screamed after him, now aiming the grenades in the hopes of somehow keeping this crazy archer alive. "Leave the reckless suicide charges to the professionals, would ya?"
Wind whipping through his hair, back curved so as to decrease his body's resistance and provide his head some protection from the bullets that stung his arms and legs, Hanzo snapped the reins, murmuring encouragements to the frightened animal beneath him as he rode it towards the storm.
They were closing in on the Talon encampment, so close Hanzo could see his charge reflected in the visors of their helmets, but just as he drew an arrow intended for the gears of the rattling machinegun, propped up on a stand and guarded towards the front of the camp, his beast reared, unleashing an agonized cry towards the cloudless sky before collapsing to the earth.
Groaning, an arm wrapped around his middle now that the wound had been so relentlessly aggravated, Hanzo crawled out from beneath his steed, dismayed to see the light begin to flee from its dark, intelligent eyes.
There was blooding running down its once powerful legs in warm streams, but it was the sizable holes, large enough to fit two fingers through, left in the flesh of its neck that had finally brought the beast down.
Out of respect for the creature who had carried him fearlessly towards his foes, Hanzo ignored the rifles aimed at his head long enough to brush closed its lids. "May you achieve peace in your next life."
"Enough!" One of the soldier's barked, jamming the barrel of their gun into his shoulder. Hanzo hissed at the blow, but otherwise remained silent. "Stand up. We're taking you back to headquarters.
The demand was met with a humorless chuckle. "I am not going anywhere with you." He pitched forward, seemingly reaching the end of his rope, until another soldier aimed a bruising kick to his rib cage, and his hand shot out like a claw, drawing a startled yell as he squeezed the soldier's ankle, then raised his head to reveal a bloodied grin full of pins as he presented the armed grenades pressed against his chest. Still baring his teeth, he spat the pins at their feet. "It is you who are coming with me."
Seconds before the grenades detonated, erasing the world in an all-consuming flash of white and raging fire, the dragons wrapped around his arm glowed an ethereal blue.
Junkrat, who'd torn after him once he'd realized the archer's intentions, found him soon after in the rubble. "Ya selfish bastard!" He yelled as he propped Hanzo's head up on his knees. Dazedly, Hanzo wondered how it was that he was still alive. "What am I supposed to tell the cyborg, huh? You and me, we hate each other's guts!" It must have been because his ears were still ringing from the blast, but it sounded almost as though the Australian was holding back tears. It was a ridiculous, sentimental thought. "Whatcha doing up and dying for me like this?"
Though his voice tore at his already damaged throat like rusty nails scraping against his esophagus, Hanzo rasped, "You are my comrade." A violent cough shook him. "Is that not enough?"
Briefly struck speechless, Junkrat could only offer a slight nod as the wind began to pick up. Head tilted back, he looked gratefully up at the sky, a relieved smile spreading across his weathered features. "Yeah, it is, mate. But I'm gonna ask ya to do a little more for me, alright?" A roaring crashed against Hanzo's eardrums, sending a thrill of fear through his rapidly cooling body that another explosion had been triggered. Junkrat, however, seemed unconcerned. "The cavalry's here."
Junkrat did not do sitting still. He was a constant force of motion, a chemical reaction of the most volatile components, so when the members of Overwatch who had not been sent on the emergency retrieval mission noticed him sitting outside Mercy's clinic, vibrating in a chair with his knee jumping, foot tapping a mile a minute, they knew something terrible must have happened.
By the time Mercy deemed Hanzo stable, Lucio was sitting in the corner with his headphones stretched to compensate for Lena, each of them listening to the tracks he'd written to inspire healing and goodwill, hoping that somehow Hanzo could hear them, too.
D. Va had tried to read a gaming magazine, but kept finding herself distracted by unwelcome thoughts, and so settled for glaring stonily at the door, willing it to open.
McCree and Genji alternated between standing watch and fetching them food and water, as the others were reluctant to do so on the off chance that they miss some important news due to their absence.
After an hour that stretched for a year became several that stretched for a decade, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted, but smiling Angela. "He's stable," she assured her captive audience, eliciting a series of relieved exhales.
At the sight of Genji, who straightened at the news as the others leapt to their feet, a slight frown curved her lips. With a smile that now seemed strained, she subtly refused to acknowledge the quizzical tilt of his head, choosing instead to warn Hanzo's eager visitors that they needed to keep their voices low and their visit under ten minutes. Though he was awake and lucid, she was a doctor, not a miracle worker. After his extensive regeneration, plenty of rest, specifically a good night's sleep, was in order.
Finally, she stepped aside to allow them entry, though Junkrat and McCree chose to remain. "Don't really want to overwhelm the poor guy, you know?" The cowboy explained.
Hanzo was already sitting up when they entered. Bandages wrapped around his torso and shoulder. His long hair spilled unchecked down his back and over his collar bone. A hand raised in silent greeting, as though he'd been expecting them for some time. D. Va surged forward, slamming her hands down on the thick blankets pulled up to the archer's waist as she demanded to know what on earth he'd been thinking, going and getting himself blown up like that. Sniffing to prevent herself from crying, she asked, "Do you have any idea how worried about you, bonehead? We've been waiting forever!"
She hunched her shoulders, striving for composure, when a heavy hand fell on her head. "Forgive me. I did not intend to worry you." Hanzo glanced around at the others, noting the multiple signs of strain in their features.
Clasping his free hand between her palms, Lena said, "Don't apologize, luv. We're just glad you're okay." Unsure of what to say, Hanzo merely acknowledged her words with a grateful nod.
"This better not happen again, though." Reaching behind her back, D. Va retrieved an old model of a portable gaming system. It unfolded to reveal a panel of buttons as well as a small screen, roughly the size of a post-it note. "You still haven't beaten me at Rainbow Road yet, so practice on that until you're well enough to play for real, okay?"
Touched by the unexpected gift, Hanzo assured her that he would hone his hand-eye coordination, reaction time, and dexterity on the device, as he fully intended to meet her challenge with the same single-minded determination with which he'd achieved his skills as an archer. It was that same serious streak that had drawn D. Va to him in the first place.
The device was not the last of his gifts, however. Lucio placed the track he'd shared with Lena on the nightstand next to Hanzo's cot, while Lena offered up a pair of wireless headphones.
Thinking himself unworthy of such attention, Hanzo attempted to return the gifts, insisting that he could not accept them, but his protests went mysteriously unheard by the three, who merely reiterated how relieved they were that he was okay, each of them already enthused as they bounced ideas off each other for how they would celebrate Hanzo's eventual release.
Having received the message loud and clear, Hanzo gave his head a rueful shake. There was no helping it, then. The presents would stay.
After a few more minutes of enthusiastic brainstorming, Angela tapped lightly on her wrist, indicating that it was time for the young ones to take their leave for the day.
Though reluctant to end their visit, the three quickly said their good-byes, each of them assuring the archer that they would be back again in the morning, as though he would grow lonely without their presence.
That assumption may not have been entirely inaccurate, however, as Hanzo felt their absence keenly.
In the corner, Genji's lights glowed faintly. His gaze, too, was focused on the exit from which they'd departed. As it was impossible to know precisely what he was thinking beneath his visor, Hanzo made no effort to guess. Rather, he waited for Genji to give voice to his thoughts on his own accord. He didn't have to wait long. "I take my eyes off you for a minute, brother, and this happens." An audible frown laced his words. "I am beginning to wonder if my invitation has not shortened your lifespan."
"You did not force me to join, Genji." Hanzo reminded him. "You bare no responsibility for my actions, nor do you hold any claim over my life."
Settling back against the wall, arms folded over his chest, Genji mulled over his words. "Your life…" He lifted his head. "You offered it to me once."
Unsure of where he was going with this, Hanzo furrowed his brow. "It was not so long ago that I would forget." He could still feel the cold steel of his brother's blade pressed against his throat.
"If I were to claim it now," Genji ventured, "would you be less eager to throw it away?" Abruptly, he straightened, then made to head for the door. "Forgive me, anija," he said quickly. "It has been a trying day. I will return in the morning with the others."
"Genji." The softly uttered name stopped the cyborg in his tracks, far better than any shackles would have. Slowly, he shifted his body to see that Hanzo had thrown aside his layers of blankets, revealing healing stumps where his thighs cut off before the knee. Knitted flesh, still pink and raw, shone where Angela had worked to regrow the tissue.
Sitting there, bare and vulnerable, there appeared to be so much less of the man he'd once known, whose very name, when mentioned, had once chilled him with fear, burned him with rage, yet Genji knew in his heart that what Hanzo now lacked in body, he had gained in spirit.
He knew better than most that one did not need to be complete to be whole.
Even still… he hadn't wanted this. Hanzo had survived a decade alone without any major injury, yet less than a year after accepting his invitation to join Overwatch, he'd suffered such a grievous and permanent loss.
The sight before him, once he would have considered it a fitting revenge, yet now it carved a hollow beneath his armored plates. He resisted the urge to clutch at his chest, knowing that the sensation was all in his mind.
When the silence stretched for too long, the sense of its length exasperated by Genji's own unnatural stillness, Hanzo found he could no longer take the anticipation. "The doctor told me she would gladly create mechanical replacements for my legs." Defiance hardened his features. "I can still fight."
"Of that," Genji said quietly, unable to tear his gaze away from the empty space where the ghost of his brother's limbs rested, "I do not doubt."
Gesturing to the scarring tissue, Hanzo muttered, "I did not rush into battle this day to atone for past mistakes."
Genji cocked his quizzically head to the side. That almost sounded like… "You are trying to say I am not to blame for your current condition, brother?"
The question was met with a tame scoff. "That should have been obvious."
Genji chuckled weakly. The moment lingered, with each of them aware that they were standing at a precipice, or perhaps hanging off of it. Which direction would to safety, which direction to doom, there was no way to tell, and so Genji hovered, trapped in indecision, until Hanzo subtly indicated a wooden chair positioned in the corner closest to the wall the heat of his cot was pressed against. "If you do not wish to go, I am not adverse to your company."
And the tension broke, harmless as a soap bubble bursting. For the first time since he'd heard the news, Genji's mechanical tones were tinged with a smile. "Then I will stay."
As he crossed the room to settle into the seat with the grace characteristic of their upbringing, Hanzo gathered the track, headphones, and gaming system off the nightstand, then placed them in his lap, taking his time as he curiously scrutinized each of the odd gifts.
Lucio's track with burned on a disk kept within a clear case decorated with lime green highlights. Hanzo turned it over to see his pale, drawn features reflected atop a spectrum of primary colors.
As Lena's headphones were wireless, Hanzo found himself at a loss as to how he was supposed to connect them. Bemused, he flipped D. Va's gift to find a port marked with a headset symbol, which would have been wonderful if his had possessed anything to connect it with.
At least the roughly CD-shaped cover on the system's surface was clear enough. Careful not to place any fingermarks on its reflective side, Hanzo fitted the disc within the system's drive, secretly impressed by how well they'd coordinated their efforts, even if he would need to schedule some time to read up on how their presents worked once he was cleared for discharge.
"It is painful to watch you, brother."
In answer to the dry ribbing, Hanzo scowled. "I do not recall asking for your opinion."
Sighing, Genji made a mental note to show his brother the wonders of Bluetooth. "You care for them." He half expected Hanzo to claim otherwise, though his affection was much too obvious for any denials to prove effective.
Grip tightening on the items placed on his lap, Hanzo glanced sharply at the cyborg, before recalling once more that there was no need to guard his feelings so closely in his company. "Yes," Hanzo replied after a time, his tone thoughtful, yet resolved. "Which is why I can no longer allow you to lay sole claim to my life."
Something warm swelled beneath Genji's chest plate. It took him a moment to recognize it for what it was - pride. "I see."
For as far back as he could remember, he could not recall having ever before been so relieved or so happy to be denied.
As Hanzo occupied himself with the quiet whirring of Lucio's track, which was to be the closest he would come to listening to the song this night, Genji's gaze fell upon the intricately tattooed dragons staining his skin. From what Junkrat had told him – Your bro should've died after that dumb stunt he pulled. Would've too, 'cept these blue dragons came out of nowhere, curled around 'em like he was their pup or something.– they had saved his life, as his own dragon had once saved his.
"Thank you," he whispered to the ancient spirits, inclining his head towards their painted maws in a subtle bow.
Hanzo's sharp ears picked up on the whisper, though not on its content. When pressed, however, Genji refused to elaborate, then to escape his brother's prodding, settled into his chair to sleep for the next week.
It had been a trying day, after all.
"Didn't know the bloke could sleep," said a high, scraping voice from the doorway. Hanzo immediately pegged it as belonging to the former Junker. Sure enough, his silhouette filled the entrance, his coarse blond hair visible in the wall of unfiltered white light behind him, still matted with dust and ash. He shifted to get a better look at the sleeping cyborg. "Guess ya learn something new everyday."
Turning to Hanzo, he asked, "He always been this protective?"
Any desire to speak with the Australian, most of which had already been extinguished after their first encounter, vanished into nonexistence. "No."
Acting as though he were unaware of Hanzo's abrupt freezing over, Junkrat lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug, "Yeah, guess I should've figured. Hey," he found a chair by the bed next to Hanzo's and noisily dragged it over, "you mind if I hide out here for the night. Ol' Roadhog thinks I stole his beer."
Slumping with resignation, experience had taught him that this was not a man who was not prone to, or perhaps even capable of taking no for an answer, as he would simply pester until he got his way, Hanzo decided to spare himself the headache. Reluctantly, he indulged in the urge to ask him, "Did you?"
The former Junker's features stretched into a wolfish grin. "Snagged the whole pack."
The conversation rapidly stalled after that, however, as Hanzo made no effort to continue it, though the gall of the man to steal from his seven-foot bodyguard did impress him, and Junkrat had a certain subject on his mind, one which he internally wrestled for some time before coming right out and blurting, "Do you think I could see?"
"Oh." Hanzo had wondered what was keeping the man so uncharacteristically quiet, "Is that all?" It was not as though this would be Junkrat's first time seeing the result of Hanzo's reckless bid to save him. After shifting the collection of objects off his lap, Hanzo dropped what remained of his limbs over the bedside, allowing them to hang as he bared himself before the man. The sense of vulnerability the gesture instilled in him would take some getting used to, but he would learn to cope with it until the cybernetic prosthetics were ready.
To his surprise and internal dismay, Junkrat hissed softly at the sight. "I know I saw it before, but I thought maybe –" He cut himself off with a low, muttered curse, before collapsing against the wall behind him, a calloused palm coming up to fall heavily across his eyes. "Don't do it again, mate."
It was a long night after that, filled with quiet synthesized snores and persistent inane chatter. Not once did the two of them ever broach the mission again, nor did Hanzo ever muster up the desire to ask the crazed outlaw to leave.
Of course, come morning, Junkrat was thoroughly scolded by Angela for sneaking into the medical bay, as well as for disturbing her patient's rest, but that did not stop him from slipping in on the next night with three beers and a magazine.
Though his bombastic presence was hardly conducive to a good night's rest, it did much to keep the boredom at bay, and because of that, or perhaps because the man never once treated the archer as though he were any less capable due to his injuries, as his own missing leg had never once slowed him down, Hanzo found that he was able to find some measure of peace in the chaos he carried.
Though the visits came to an abrupt stop once Angela banned Junkrat's I.D. card from the medical bay's security scanner, Hanzo discovered upon the completion of his first sojourn from clinic to his quarters in his newly fitted carbon steel prosthetics, something he'd asked Angela to keep private - even knowing it would disappointment the others, he could not bear for them to witness his awkward and hobbling steps - that his release had not yet gone entirely unnoticed, as there were several bottles of Roadhog's favorite brand sitting on his doorstep, one for every night the explosives expert had missed.