"We have already had this conversation. You said the same thing two months ago. Yet here you are." - Angela 'Mercy' Ziegler

...in which Mercy goes Sister Mode™ on Cole, Cole confronts Sombra about the Null Sector/Talon team-up, the former and Hanzo has yet another spat getting a tad *cough* heated *cough*, and the Shimada Bros bond a bit.

A/N: This update was 1-day late bc...

1.) I forgot

2.) The site hasn't been fully functional for at least 2 days and it's still not working properly

Here you go, though.

COLE

Cole again found himself eyeing the archer when they entered the shuttle. The man had stepped in before him, back still facing Cole's front having held that pillar vivid in his mind, the bow firmly in his grip. Now when the mission was over, he got the time to reflect on what occurred just a few hours ago. How he himself would've gotten crushed beneath all that debris if Hanzo hadn't stepped in.

To no end did it frustrate him that he still couldn't get a read on him, but as time passed, it seemed that he had indeed been wrong. Wrong about Hanzo in general. Hard pill to swallow, that.

He had halfway expected Hanzo to hold what happened against him. Belittle him on how 'foolish' he was for 'not paying attention' or something of the sort. It never happened. The most he got was this brief - albeit just as intense - glare over Hanzo's shoulder the moment he caught his eye. Cole didn't avert his own as he stood there exhausted.

Even so, he had the feeling that glare held a different implication than belittlement.

Hanzo was the first to look away, his expression tightening just a tad, and Cole was left with more questions. His accepted defeat was surely shown on his face. Not to mention that Deadeye played a part, too. Placating him.

It wasn't the first time his implant had acted up by far. Before, he could sense whenever he started bleeding. Now his optical nerve was getting more and more damaged to the point that it briefly numbed that side of his face and even scrambled his communicator. Enough to not even sense the thick red substance running down. Such was both a blessing and a curse. A few months back, the pain was nearly unbearable. Now that numbing sensation offered him certain relief. It was a condition. One that couldn't be treated. Not anymore.

Angie's voice drew his attention to her. "Cole. We must speak this instant."

"Just oughta make a call to our Talon 'friend' and I'll be right there with ya."

"Nein," (No,) she said, her tone stern. "Now."

So Cole sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

Naturally, it couldn't wait. He had been subjected to many a scolding since meeting her all those years ago and it was all done out of love. He knew that. They had been through thick and thin together with Overwatch. Close as kin. Rarely did Cole say 'no' to the lady. Didn't have the heart. She had done too much for him and so he let her drag him aside.

"If you continue putting strain on your eye you will need prescriptions. With time you will even lose your vision entirely as there is nothing I can do," she said, speaking in hushed tones what he knew already. With a lazy - albeit fond - smirk playing on his lips did he just look at her. Cole was more than used to this by now. "You have a developed visual cortex, but without a healthy optic nerve, a bionic transplant is not possible. If you had heeded my warnings earlier, this could have been fixable!"

"Angie, you're a goddamn peach, and I appreciate everythin' you've done for me. Doesn't change that Shimada Hanzo and I both would'a been crushed beneath a goddamn skyscraper."

"I simply cannot stand how useless I feel," she murmured, gently massaging her own temple.

"Ho, there. I won't hear none of that," he said in the same hushed tones, grabbing her upper arms. All humor gone now as his brows were tight over narrowed eyes. "I would'a been half-blind a long time ago otherwise. It's only 'cause o'you I ain't. Hell, it's just the overheat that's the problem. Told me yourself my sight's gonna be just fine as long as I let Deadeye rest for a bit."

"There have been too many instances leaving you no choice but to utilize it over such a short period of time," she replied, staring into nothing. "We have already had this conversation. You said the same thing two months ago. Yet here you are."

Cole puffed a laugh. "Hey, now. At least I got a few more in me," he replied, offering a smirk. "I'm doin' just fine, Angie."

Even with Angie did he prefer to keep personal shit behind lock and key unless it was a medical issue. It was how a Texas boy like him had been raised. He had to stay strong for the sake of everyone else. Most men growing up with a strong father figure was perfectly capable of it. Cole was one of them. Besides, the burden was his own, and it wasn't like anyone could help. People had their own problems to deal with and he wasn't the type that needed to pour it all out anyway.

Refusing help wasn't always a pride thing. Most men simply enjoyed being problem-solvers. The sense of accomplishment wasn't beatable by any means. Angie didn't understand that, and yet, he couldn't blame her. Maybe she never would. Losing his sight wouldn't be ideal, but he wasn't about to let someone die for it. Not even a stuck-up archer that seemed to hate his guts.

With that, Cole shortly made the call to Sombra over the speakers. She was in Castillo and willing to meet. Calaveras, ironically. He had too many questions. Yet Sombra sure as hell was cryptic, so he didn't expect to get any helpful answers.

Hana spoke up. "Want me to drop you off?"

Grateful accepting the offer, he let her, and soon exited. Meanwhile, the others headed to a nearby hotel so they could set out tomorrow morning. Calaveras was a short walking distance from there not to draw attention to themselves. He had been there many times before. Knew the streets like the back of his hand. While there, he approached the bar disk and ordered a whiskey. Needed it after today. Even if Sombra didn't agree to a meeting, he'd head there anyway, and so the extra trip didn't bother him.

Cole didn't need to look up when a familiar shape had its lower back pressed up against the bar disk in his peripheral. Forearms resting atop its surface with attention directed forward. He just looked into his glass stopping halfway to his mouth.

"You're fifteen minutes late."

"Oh, wow, not even a 'hi?'" she deadpanned, lids heavy. Sombra tsk-ed and shrugged. "I was busy."

Leaning back, he put the glass down and palmed his thigh with a light scowl.

"'Busy,' huh? That why you didn't inform us 'bout Talon and Null Sector teamin' up? Not showin' a lot of team spirit, here."

"...and ruin the surprise?" she asked, Cole's unimpressed expression directed at her. She rolled her eyes. "Relax, amigo (friend.) I couldn't risk them finding out that we've been talking. Did you forget you have a tendency to get fired from cover jobs?" Cole didn't have the chance to defend himself before she pushed on with a more believable explanation. "My access - and the viejito's (old man's) freedom - are on the line. I'm not gonna drop everything just to let you in on information you'd find out anyway."

"Know an awful lot 'bout me, amiga." (friend.)

Sombra let out an offended scoff. "I know a lot about everyone. You're not special," she replied, offering an explanation. "Ey, it's not like they tell me everything. Doomfist and Ramattra first made contact when Overwatch was still running. Not digitally."

So not her area of expertise, then.

"If I was to guess, I'd say 'cause Ramattra ain't exactly that keen on rollin' in the hay with humans," he said, being the only thing making sense. Sombra muttered a 'mh-hm' as she studied her nails. Sighing, Cole let his elbow remain on the table and rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "Just how confident are ya this team-up is gonna last?"

"Not long," she said, snickering. "Ramattra has no sense of humor. Besides, you've seen he's got that soft spot for that omnic friend of yours. I can't think of a better time to get the viejito (old man) out of there."

"...and why's that?" he asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

"Your papi's (father's) getting rusty," she replied, his frown deep in return. Sombra nonchalantly shrugged. "Reyes still has a soft spot for you, Morrison, and Amari. Frankly, he's been actively avoiding going after you three. Making up excuses. The boss has already called him out on it only to be promptly denied, but ey... do with that what you will."

Change almost too small to notice, Cole's expression softened ever so slightly. He was fully prepared to sense bullshit. Yet he didn't. So Gabe was in there, after all. He cursed internally. Sombra being known for her manipulation, however, he remained vigilant.

The whole Sigma situation was delicate enough. Now Null Sector was involved. Things were never simple. Sombra was certainly right that the two organizations weren't on friendly terms even if they worked together in hitting cities. It was obvious that they were operating mostly independently from each other, and thus, it wasn't like Talon's security had doubled on Sigma. Not even close.

"Why reach out to Overwatch 'bout this in the first place?"

Sombra sighed. "If you have to know... I've met one of your medics. Ziegler. Not a bad bone in her," she replied, letting out a scoff. "Only an idiot would trust O'Deorain on principle over her." Sombra smirked. "She's good."

Now that one he could agree on. His view on the geneticist was very clear. Had been from the get-go even when they worked together in Blackwatch. She had been there when Bartalotti fell. Just like Genji and Gabe. One of those rare occasions when he was the only sane one in the room as Genji was still trying to accept his cyborg nature back then. Now Cole knew why he was that way. Too well. It gave all the more context as to why Gabe suggesting to recruit his older brother had merely resulted in silence in return and tense shoulders.

"If we do this gig - help this friend o'yours - that's one less man watchin' your back in there."

"Aw, are you worried about me? That's so sweet. I've got it under control," she said, pushing away from the bar disk. Sombra clicked her tongue with a salute. "Adiós, amigo." (Goodbye, friend.)

He got to the hotel at about 12:00 a.m., unsurprisingly finding out that the team had ordered him a room, and headed there. Cole punched in the code and the door unlocked with a satisfying 'click' before he pushed it open. Ever since joining up with Overwatch, he had gotten all the more used to 4-star hotels, but they didn't have the same funding anymore. He was lucky to afford a 2-star one before getting recruited. That said, he never was a man of luxury. Too rich. Cole preferred it simple and didn't require much. Just a bed and bathroom were more than enough.

It had been a long day and he was ready to flop down on the mattress - sleep the whole thing off - but three knocks were heard before he even managed to get Peacekeeper out of her sheath. By fist. Not knuckles.

Cole was too tired to question it.

Rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, he approached. His palm closed around the door handle before pulling it open. What he saw on the other side sure came as a surprise. Hanzo stood with his arms folded across his chest - hip cocked to stand comfortably - his chin tilted down only to move back up when he appeared in the doorway. His tight expression revealed nothing.

"I reckon you've taken a wrong turn, Shimada," he said, pressing his forearm to the doorframe at the height of his own head - metallic hand moving to his belt buckle - as he himself remained deadpan. No reaction "...or was there somethin' else?"

Apparently so. "Are you... occupied?"

Suppressing a sigh, Cole glanced at the all too comfortable-looking bed just a few feet away.

"Not at the moment, no."

He didn't have the energy for an argument and it seemed as if every conversation with Hanzo was just that. Cole turned his head back to see his expression just as unreadable - yet somehow intense - as always. He was used to it by now.

Hanzo's amber-eyed gaze moved to look at the hallway ensuring no one was there to hear them as he released his arms. So when a firm hand pushed at Cole's chest and backed him into the hotel room, leaving him at a loss, he didn't know what he expected. Immediately, his pulse acted up. He was too stunned to comment as shins shortly met the bedside. Forced to grip Hanzo's wrist not to tumble over. With his free hand did the man close the door behind them while still not meeting his eye.

Nevertheless, he realized he'd jumped the gun a tad too quickly.

"Why did you assist me?"

Cole blinked. "Pardon?"

"Do not play the fool," he replied, brows even tighter when he finally met his glance. Cole side-eyed him as he let go of his wrist and only then did Hanzo's hand drop to ball into a fist. Hell, part of him couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed. What just went through his mind sure was one way to possibly ease the tension. "During the mission. Why did you assist me? It is clear that simply letting me die would make this easier for all of you." Now he had the answer as to why Hanzo looked so pissed back at the shuttle. "So I ask again. Why did you assist me?"

"Don't know if you've heard, archer," he said, giving him a mildly annoyed look "...but just 'cause you might've dragged me outta there on your own terms to 'prove yourself' doesn't mean the rest o'us are driven by the same goal."

"Spare me from your hero complex. I do not have the patience for it."

My what, now?

"Hero complex?! Well, ex-fuckin'-cuse me for rather not wantin' to see Genji's brother pummeled to death by a goddamn building."

"Genji was not within eyesight. He would be none the wiser," he said, scowling lightly. Cole, nonplussed, simply put his own hands at his hips. Remained calm. This hostility between them was exhausting, and at this point, he no longer felt like fighting. Not after Hanzo saved his hide. "Whatever you require from me, speak up, as I grow tired of waiting."

"As far as I'm concerned? There ain't nothin' to wait for. Hell, you keep bangin' on about 'what I require...' but has it ever occurred to ya that I'm doin' the bare minimum of decency?"

"No one are decent for the sake of being decent. People do good deeds because they wish for something in return or to feel better about themselves. If you are willing to throw yourself into the line of fire to save someone else's life, it simply means you do not value your own, or those close to you. Even those that act rather than walk away do so simply because they would not want to live with the guilt of doing nothing," he said, Cole's expression tight and unchanging. "Do not patronize me, gunslinger."

...and that was exactly why he never claimed himself a hero patting himself on the back.

"I know how life works, Shimada. Lived it 37 years," he replied, taking a step forward leaving an inch between them. Forcing Hanzo to tilt his head up to comfortably maintain eye contact. Cole held it. Lowered his voice to accommodate the reduced distance after. "Thing is... despite pissin' me off, you've done nothin' to prove I should'a left you there. Now, regardless of whatever self-servin' reason you might've had, you proved you're willin' to take one for the team." Cole paused. "I believe in second chances. Not sure 'bout thirds. Best remember that."

Somehow, he still didn't buy it. Cole came to that conclusion as grey eyes fell to see the scowl still on Hanzo's lips revealing hint of gritted teeth, so when said scowl began to mellow, it seemed as if something clicked in the man's mind. Whatever that might be. As if he had truly taken in Cole's response possibly having revealed something that, frankly, Cole couldn't name.

He should've guessed when it was voiced.

Brows tight, Hanzo tilted up his chin further - with certainty - below hooded amber. "You require my body."

The air grew thick again.

Paying attention to his lips might've given it away. No use arguing. Hanzo was too damn intelligent for that. Hell, he was surprised it took this long to roll out the welcome mat of pure boldness.

No hints. No innuendos. No fleeting touches. Just front and center.

Cole knew that he had been physically drawn to Hanzo from day one. Hard not to despite his cold demeanor, because hell, this man looked like a goddamn masterpiece. Yet physicality and mentality were two different things. That said, Hanzo was clearly trying to make a point. One that was, by all means, insulting. Not the concept of casual sex, mind you - nothing bad about that - but the fact that he firmly believed Cole helped him for such a petty reason. Even after Cole had told him why he did just a moment ago. He had to give it to him, though. Hanzo wasn't shy.

"Now, that's a separate issue. One I'm not all that fond of," he said, not denying it. Cole had no reason to lie, because frankly, he knew this man's ego couldn't possibly go any further. The tension was there. Palpable. "Here I was hopin' you thought better of me."

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. "Prove it and this hostility will cease."

"...and how am I supposed to do that?"

"Hm," he huffed, tantalizingly close. "You are already failing."

Confusion spread on Cole's face. Catching himself having leaned in without realizing it, however - he could thank his half-asleep haze for that - he immediately pulled back. Scrounged up the side of his mouth and turned his head to side-eyed him. Hanzo sure had some nerve. Arrogance was one thing. Justified arrogance, on the other hand, was another. The man knew his strengths.

Hanzo was already out the door before he could finish the thought. The hotel room seemed far too quiet after the door clicked shut after him. Unnaturally so. As if he'd forgotten how silence sounded like.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Cole rubbed his eyes again with his flesh hand, his brows tight. The limb attached to it felt like led when it dropped back to hang against his side. Null Sector. Talon. Deadeye. Whiskey. Hanzo. It just kept piling up leaving him without any energy at all. It was a miracle his legs didn't just give in at this point, so when he finally allowed himself to sit down, he knew he wasn't getting back up. Sleep came easily. On every other day, with his phantom pains regularly waking him up, he was just grateful not even that could stir him that night.

Simple pleasures.

In the morning did his thoughts return to Hanzo. It would've been so easy to just get it over with. They had been in a literal hotel room. Alone. If Cole's sense of observational skills hadn't completely deteriorated over the years, then the physical attraction was mutual, but it was obvious Hanzo couldn't stand him personally. For some reason he still failed to understand.

It didn't bother him, though. The older he got the less he gave a damn about others' opinions on him. As a teenager, such a concept is difficult to grasp, but it was the truth. One only experience could confirm.

Getting de Kuiper was their next mission.

...and if they were successful, hell, they might turn their attention to Gabe.

One could hope.

Chances were hope was everything they had left.

HANZO

After getting back to Gibraltar, Morrison was to give them the de Kuiper mission brief in the morning. Rescue missions were usually straightforward from what he could gather. Get in unnoticed, grab the subject, and get out. To engage in combat only when necessary. When compromised, the chances of said subject getting out alive without a bullet in their skull were significantly smaller. It could easily turn into a suicide mission and especially with de Kuiper's compromised mental state. One slip-up and they could all be dead.

Hanzo had certainly taken more lives than he'd saved. He was a trained assassin as was Genji, and yet, his brother's time with Overwatch surely tipped the scale. Balanced it, maybe. Yet they both knew how assassins operated and those documents found on that base didn't hold enough information. Not in Hanzo's eyes. For a mission like this to succeed, it had to be done with precision, and indomitable will.

Luckily, Hanzo had both.

At some point he considered taking Doomfist's offer so that he could infiltrate the organization from within. Gain information that way. He knew how to adapt quickly - it was a required skill in his training - and this would be a good time to do so. Especially now that Overwatch was made aware of the team-up of Null Sector and Talon leaving Overwatch at a disadvantage. It would make sense for Hanzo to switch sides because of that. Especially since Doomfist's offer was still open. That said, one question kept him from doing so.

At what cost?

Hanzo would've lied if he said he didn't want the Shimada Clan to rise back up from the ashes and build an empire. Hanamura was to be his, but ever since he left the clan, he had nothing. Nothing except Genji. With Genji part of Overwatch, that was where his loyalties lay, and that was where his loyalties would stay. Yet every day did he stray further from the concept of being tied to yet another code.

Perhaps the fall of the Shimada Clan was for the best - at least in the state it fell - even if it could be rebuilt better. They put their people first despite everything. Knowing that, it left a bad taste in his mouth when Kiriko scolded him for not helping against the Hashimoto.

Hanzo wanted to care, and yet, he simply couldn't.

Apathy was simply part of who he was. All joy and hope in his life had been lost. Why would he lie and pretend to be righteous? It was disingenuous. Dishonorable. As far as he was concerned, everyone had darkness in them, so he could see why Doomfist thought the way he did. How he wanted to strengthen humanity. Not physically, but mentally, and create something worth fighting for. Maintain. Right now, he didn't see it. Hanzo wouldn't care if the world crashed and burned at this moment in time.

He was desperate to feel again, but he had forgotten, and the path was trying. He himself knew he wasn't worth saving. Yet somehow the cowboy claimed he was. Attempting to kill your own brother, if not being familiar with Japanese culture, should've been all the proof Cassidy had needed. Yet Cassidy being aware of it and still sticking by it let him know that no intelligent conversation was to be had.

So whatever saccharine words the cowboy uttered, Hanzo knew they had no merit.

(Japanese) "Up late again, brother?"

Hanzo grunted. (Japanese) "I could say the same to you."

He was just in the middle of making tea - filling a cup - when Genji approached him. His circadian rhythm was easily adaptable. It had to be when one traveled as much as he did. His first few weeks in Overwatch, he worked in reverse compared to the rest of the team, but he adjusted it back to normal once he was more comfortable in their presence. That said, he rarely got more than four hours of shut-eye. He wasn't one to drink himself to the point of passing out even if it would surely make his life easier as long as a lot of water was consumed.

(Japanese) "Angela has been stressing herself out ever since Castillo. She wouldn't tell me why, but... I can only guess it was about medical confidentiality. I was keeping her company," he replied, Hanzo setting aside the kettle with a nod in confirmation that he had been listening. "I sense there is something on your mind. Is there any way I can help?"

Him having taken note wasn't surprising.

At first, he even thought that Genji's reason for forgiving him was self-serving. Hanzo was skilled with a bow. A valuable asset. Genji believed in the cause of Overwatch and Hanzo was capable of enforcing that with his skills alone. The only thing that changed his mind was when he heard his animated conversations with the omnic monk, and if one thing hadn't changed from their youth, it was that Genji was a horrible actor. Hanzo had known him his entire life and could sense sincerity within him. Thus, he decided to indulge him.

(Japanese) "Why are you here?"

(Japanese) "I already told you," he replied, amusement in his tone as he followed Hanzo with his eyes rounding him to get seated. "Angela, Hanzo. The doctor in case you have forgotten."

Hanzo shook his head. (Japanese) "No. With Overwatch. Why do you fight for them?"

(Japanese) "Oh," he said, appearing stunned for a moment. Hanzo settled in a chair there with eyes set on nothing as he sipped his tea. In his field of vision did Genji approach him and sat down opposite him. "I have friends here. It's also the right thing to do. Null Sector and Talon bring pain and suffering to the world. Overwatch stands against them. We deserve to live a life without taking up arms against each other."

(Japanese) "How would you know what people deserve?" he replied, pinning his gaze under tight brows.

(Japanese) "There are many bad humans in this world, Hanzo. Just as there are many bad omnics. That does not change that innocents are caught in the crossfire, and in seriousness, we can't do background checks on every person we consider helping. It would be foolish doing so. Besides, I believe most people are deserving of redemption. I have to as I surely would be a hypocrite otherwise," he replied, falling into a pause. "Would you not rather become a better version of yourself than die never atoning for past actions?"

(Japanese) "Not all can be atoned for."

(Japanese) "I speak of what can and those that are willing to do so. They deserve that chance. Peace returns to those that wish for it."

(Japanese) "...and what if their intentions to 'do good' are self-serving?"

He could practically see Genji's puzzled expression. (Japanese) "If you do good deeds - help people other than yourself in some form or another - does your reasoning for doing so matter?"

(Japanese) "Of course it does," he replied, his scowl light. "There is no honor in pretending one cares. I am only here because you want me to, and yet, I have had one of your friends claim our father would be proud of me. Another told me I was worth saving despite knowing what I did to you. I should not be rewarded or praised for being here. To help others is a good thing, yes, I am no fool... but the person doing so is not necessarily a good person for it. They could want fame. Praise. Benefits. Redemption. All these things that they are undeserving of."

Genji seemed to think it over. (Japanese) "Those might benefit in the short run, but they are judged in the end, if not before. Everyone shouldn't suffer for what crimes others have committed, or in the future, may commit," he said, pausing. "What brought this on?"

(Japanese) "The knowledge that we are to retrieve this... de Kuiper. We have little information to go on. I am considering taking up on Akande's offer and attempt to infiltrate them from within. If I do so, I will surely be forced to take up arms against those you deem 'deserving' to gain their trust," he replied, Genji remaining quiet. "Killing brings me no pleasure, and I do not actively seek it, but if the need arises... I do what I must."

(Japanese) "It is not too late to change your course, brother."

His chest drew tight. The disapproval in Genji's voice shouldn't have affected him as much as it did. Hanzo already knew that Genji calling him his brother was nothing to be proud of.

(Japanese) "You are mistaken. I am beyond redemption. Give me one good reason why I should care for what they might make me do."

(Japanese) "Because there is still light in this world."

Unconvinced, Hanzo sighed. (Japanese) "I fear I do not see it."

(Japanese) "Then see this. Talon is beneath you, Hanzo. You know this. They are little more than an organized terrorist organization with the intent of bringing conflict. Even if you do this - and do not kill anyone - what honor is there in standing back and doing nothing while they carry out these crimes? Last I heard, honor is all you have left. These were your words. Not mine."

(Japanese) "Honor and you. I made my choice between duty and family once I left the Shimada Clan. You would again be my choice."

The following, albeit brief silence, was suffocating. (Japanese) "What I want is for you not to lose yourself. If we fail in this mission, so be it, as we will know we did so with honor."

(Japanese) "This... is truly what you want?"

Genji's response held no hesitation. (Japanese) "Yes. I want my brother. Not a pale imitation of him."

The ugly truth was that Hanzo no longer knew who that was.

A/N: This chapter ends on a depressing AF note, but what do you expect from a man that (drunkenly) trauma-dumps on karaoke nights? I love Hanzo with all my heart, but jfc that man needs some therapy. My source is Busan if you haven't witnessed it:

(Skip to 00:28 on this YouTube video) watch?v=yedwpytYhx8