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shame-on-nyall · 7 years

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actual interlude part 5

Are all of y’all hyped?!!! This is a good long chunk, with some nice McCree stuff. Gonna update ao3 with the final chunk of the interlude soon. And maybe I’ll do the Ana side-story after all. At this rate i’ll never get to the fucky part, lmao. But I’m gonna try.

2,352 words - warning for really sad and pathetic

Any further discussion got cut off by Winston appearing around the corner, shushing them, but upon seeing Hanzo, his expression softened. Much to Genji’s almost audible shock. Hanzo, apparently still clinging to his distrust, managed a short bow of acknowledgement as Winston approached.

“Sorry, Winston, we’ll be off now,” Genji apologized on behalf of Hanzo and himself.

“Oh, you two may proceed,” Winston assured them, “just a little quieter if you could. We had spent so much effort getting Soldier to bed, he kept swatting away all of Angela’s attempts to tranquilize him. I did not want to have to call everyone out to repeat the ordeal so soon.”

“Understood.”

“I believe neither of you are due for reconnaissance missions for at least a few days,” Winston continued. “Please do take advantage of the time to rest and prepare, though. Your skills and experience are very much needed by the world.”

“Of course, Winston.”

Winston bade them a quiet good night and ambled off, appeased.

“Good night to you, Genji, and good luck,” Hanzo said softly, slipping free of Genji’s loosened grip and back to his room before his little brother could fully react in time. With a sad sigh, Genji went to embark on his own solo mission and find McCree yet again. He had volunteered to do this after all, McCree was his friend, whereas Hanzo was likely still feeling indisposed and antisocial, but once more Genji wished he could just run off and avoid the mess altogether. Let his brother deal with his mistakes, as he always had before. But wasn’t that lazy thinking the reason for how they turned out like this? Genji had promised himself he would take responsibility for his actions, confront the consequences of his decisions, deal with them as he should have in the past instead of counting on his good luck and charms to win him out of trouble. From this point forward, he had to act like a man, the true Genji he wanted his brother to acknowledge, not the spoiled child Hanzo saw, nor the robotic inhuman.

Patting the sides of his faceplate with both hands once to give himself some resolve and startling himself by the loud sound of not-flesh slapping not-flesh, Genji winced and then slunk off purposefully into the night.

The problem being that McCree was still not back in his room, leaving Genji to wander the hallways where he came across Zarya on patrol once. He searched the target range, where they had last left him clutching his crushed knees but still croaking out “aren’t y’all feisty little honeybees” or something to that effect, the infirmary, now empty but for the faint smell of antiseptic cleanser, the closest courtyard, before making his way to the old rec room in the basement level. There he found McCree in his sleep clothes sprawled out on a couch that had seen better days, watching an old American western projected onto the wall.

“Hey, Jesse.”

“Hey, sugar,” McCree said, glancing over at him with slight alarm. “Not here to finish the job, are ya? I just got my knees fixed up by Angela.”

“Nah, just here to return your gun, in case you get sent out tomorrow,” Genji said with a soft chuckle, detaching Peacemaker from his back with a click and handing it back to a grateful McCree, who tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants.

“Should have warned you, Hanzo gets sensitive about comments on his appearance, and won’t shy from dealing corporal punishment. It’s just how we do things.” It’s not normal, Genji wanted to add, except that it was.

McCree just shook his head, looking amused and resigned. “I get it. That’ll teach me to open my big mouth in the future.” He sighed, a long huff, and though he kept his tone light, Genji could see sadness pinch at the corners of his drooping eyes. “You know, I told him I could deal with being friends, Genji, I’d give him space, whatever he wants. But the truth is, I can’t just turn my feelings off like that. Don’t know if I really can, least not anytime soon. I really do like him.”

“Jesse… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it turn out like this.” First Genji, then Hanzo, breaking that big heart that had already been shattered and patched back together so many times. Knowing his past, what had happened with Reyes, knowing he couldn’t give McCree the devotion he craved, knowing Hanzo couldn’t give him the attention he needed. They really were criminals, toying with a man who only wanted to be good.

Running his hands through his hair, McCree glanced at the movie still playing across the wall, then at the battered coffee table in front of him, at the cards scattered across its surface. “Not as lucky as I thought after all,” he muttered. “I’m just a damn fool, aren’t I?”

“We all are, sometimes,” Genji replied, though not in a mean way. He sat down next to McCree, manuevered under the cage of his arm to nestle against his side, basked in that familiar warmth. “Listen, Jesse…” he murmured, “thank you for trying to talk to my brother even though he has been a total asshole.”

McCree shrugged, but could not refrain from a heh at the accuracy.

“I thought he would eventually see your appeal as I did, and maybe he could change his mind in the future, who knows. But the fact that he agreed to be friends with you… is a huge deal.”

“Is that so?” McCree rumbled softly, holding Genji close, the way Hanzo never did unless Genji demanded it of him first.

Nodding slowly, Genji explained, “He did not have any friends when we were kids, did not see the need to make any, and once he gave up his position and left Hanamura after the duel, he lost contact with everyone he knew. He was on the run, with a price on the head, he probably didn’t meet anyone he trusted. I know this is the first truly safe place for him in years, and even among those who once conspired to take him down, he finally feels comfortable enough to sleep for eight hours uninterrupted, he bothers to eat with everyone at dinnertime more often than not…” Genji trailed off, felt his heart clench thinking of Hanzo lying on a dingy mattress somewhere, fully-clothed, one hand on a weapon, unable to nap for more than a few hours at a time, every single night for up to ten years. Imagined Hanzo distrusting the food his handlers would bring him on his assignments, his cybernetic eyes watering remembering when Hanzo had told him sometimes he would just procure a tin of cat food and eat that instead, on account of no one wanting to go through the effort of injecting poison into cat food. His voice buzzing with barely restrained tears, Genji added, “I… I’m sure he got this far because of you, Jesse.”

“Aww shucks, that’s awfully generous of you to say, Genji, but I’m preeeetty sure he’s doing this for you?”

“What?” Genji snorted in disbelief, scorn momentarily wresting control over sadness. “I am the brother he felt he had to kill to restore honor to the family, remember? As far as Hanzo’s concerned, I am a zombie brought back from the dead, and also part Omnic, and also a member of the vigilante group who destroyed the clan he was raised his entire life to lead. I am the shame he could not control while I lived, and my living now is a reminder that he managed to fuck up doing the one thing he’s good at. I am literally everything that makes Hanzo unhappy in this world, Jesse. Whatever his reasons, he’s not doing this for me.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Okay, you don’t have any siblings, so you can’t talk.”

“Even so,” McCree stated calmly. “Maybe Hanzo does feel as you say, I don’t know, but you’re all that’s left of his family. He absolutely cares about you, Genji, always asks if you’re okay whenever you’re gone on missions, always keeps you in his line of sight on the field, as difficult as that is. He trusts you, thinks the world of you, though only when you’re not in hearing distance. He has his reasons, sure, but believe me, Hanzo wants to be here, and you’re a big part of why. It’s obvious he still loves you, ain’t it? The way you love him?”

Genji shook his head, grateful his expression remained hidden. “It’s never been like that between us…”

“Well, maybe you oughtta tell your brother you love him every now and then. I think he would want to hear it from you. More than me, anyway, God knows I’ve tried enough times.”

“I-it’s not the Japanese way, we would show our love through actions rather than words. And our family… wasn’t like other Japanese families. Bringing home the decapitated head of an enemy, or their fingers, that would be most loving thing one could do.” It was true, more or less, because it demonstrated loyalty, what the Shimada clan prized the most. “I don’t think I could… not even in Japanese.” Despite being the rebellious modernized one in the household, Genji had never once said ‘I love you,’ not even to his girlfriends and boyfriends, all of whom he did fall in love with, if just for a little while. He was positive his parents never said such a thing to each other, they rarely held hands or kissed even when they thought they were alone. And while “daisuki, onii-chan!” might have sounded cute when he was five, it did not carry the same meaning, not now that he was thirty years older. “I’m sure he would think I was drunk. Or teasing him.” He picked at the metallic joints of his knuckles, a little jittery. “What, you think I might have lived if we’d just said ‘I love you’ more often?”

“Ehh, probably not.” McCree reached up to palm at Genji’s skull, pushing him a little forward playfully. “You were a self-righteous brat back then, I remember you giving Angela and those doctors hell. Sassing off Reyes. Threatening to kill us all in our sleep on a regular basis. Hey now, just like Hanzo said right after he introduced himself to the team!”

“See, I told you I learned it from my brother!” Genji shot back delightedly.

McCree burst out laughing, and in doing so, the years seemed to lift from his posture. “I don’t doubt it. You’re a real joker, partner. Lookie here, got just the card for you.” He picked up the playing cards in one smooth motion, drew one out from the middle of the deck and tossed it on the table face up. Black joker.

“Oh? So which one is Hanzo?”

Another card flicked out on the table. Ten of diamonds. Of course. Genji watched as McCree shuffled the cards between human and cyborg hand, mesmerized. He’d seen the card tricks before, what seemed like a lifetime ago when he had just settled in with Overwatch for the first time. Back then, the queen in McCree’s deck had a tattoo under her eye, the jack held a sheaf of wheat in his arms, the king wore a black crown in the shape of swords. Now the face cards were all skulls. But McCree carried the deck with him everywhere he went just the same, freaking everyone out whenever poker night came around. A memento of the past he still loved, but which he could not relive again. Genji had kept a similar keepsake with him, too; a photograph of Hanzo and himself in their matching training outfits, standing in front of the dojo at Hanamura, stuck in a frame in his room in Nepal.

The movie finished a few minutes later, and Genji stood up to stretch, his body reminding him to go recharge for the night. Glancing at McCree, he said, “Jesse… If it makes things too awkward, you don’t have to hang out with us, you know. I won’t be offended.”

“Sweetheart, I’d hang out with you and Hanzo no matter what awkward thing happened. The pair of you are easy on the eyes, and trust me, I need a break after chasing down Roadhog and Junkrat for almost a year.”

“Aww, you don’t think Jamison is cute?” Genji teased. “You know he has a crush on you.”

“Not you, too! It’s hero-worship, okay?!” McCree complained, much to Genji’s amusement.

“Anyway… thank you again, Jesse. Sorry that you had to strike out twice with us, but you might be happy to know you’re the first person I’ve ever set up with my brother who he’s ever had a strong reaction to.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Although McCree’s expression seemed to indicate that he was not sure this was a good or bad thing.

“Hanzo doesn’t… he doesn’t really make decisions, not without consulting Father or the elders, he usually doesn’t care too much if it’s not related to the clan. You are probably the first real choice he’s made on his own since he left home.”

“You mean, after deciding to join you here with Overwatch,” McCree corrected him.

Genji froze, suddenly silent. “I… guess, yeah,” he ventured after a second. “Something like that.” He turned to leave, but not before sensing McCree’s presence behind him and getting enveloped by a hug.

“Hey, don’t doubt yourself so much, Genji. It’s not like you.”

“Heh. You’re right.” He tilted his head upward, letting McCree kiss the point of his visor below his forehead protector, where his nose should be, wondered briefly before shrugging it aside what it would be like if he could have just tried harder to make it work with Jesse. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal soon enough,” he assured him. “Good night, Jesse, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, thanks again for bringing me my gun back.” McCree let him go, smiled and said, “Sleep well now, Genji.”

#my fic #hot milky #shimadacest #past genji/mccree #yeaaaaaa booooy

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