Likewise, Genji would deserve her full attention. The full attention of anyone who wants to hold his heart in their hands, really. He deserves to be treasured for the person he is, and how wonderfully loyal and loving he is. Comfortable in who he is now, certainly, because so many have accepted him without qualm— but it didn't mean he couldn't still be hurt. That his heart wasn't human, and that he was impervious simply because some of his body was near enough to it.
She'd told him as much, here. But their affection and love was enough. Knowing they'd always be there for one another and that they were comfortable was enough. It was everything, actually. No one would replace what they are to one another, or how they feel for one another. Doctor and patient, deeply connected and twined together tight— there was no breaking that bond, either.
He tips his mask up to reveal his face only to her, hidden by the angle of his arm and the tip of his mask so the bump of his nose to hers nets him an immediate smooch in return, catching the corner of his mouth.
"I should think this flower is happy just where she is."
Leaning against him, watching a performance unfold before them, in realtime and then again slowing the moves down.
It is true, especially since he enjoys her company as well. She doesn't have as many research subjects here as she did back home, when he was younger - but he would just as willingly sit up to listen to her discuss what she is doing here.
He watches the instructor for a moment longer, twining their arms together and holding her hand.
"How have you been finding the festival so far, Angela?"
If only she had anything to speak of; she doesn't, not here, with few enough people to see and a promise to their confidentiality to not even speak of issues vaguely from the moonblessing interest or their effects she's observed in others. But she thinks she'd much rather spend time with him in relative silence, just sitting at his side. There was a comfort to that before, when he was still recovering, and there's comfort in it now. They're easy in each other's company. They could watch stupid things on the broadcasts here and just share their warmth.
His arm twines around hers and her fingers splay to allow his closer, her other coming to bracket his skin in her own.
"With good company? Perfectly tolerable. I have to say, however, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Last time it hadn't ended terribly well with the vines and everything, so I suppose staying on our toes to dance will serve us well. And yourself?"
"I have been getting along well," he says. The nature of casual affection and intimacy perhaps worked a bit better in his favor, he thought. But what has had him most excited?
"I think I am more glad to see Master Zenyatta in a world where he is not judged for being an Omnic, and how he has been able to express himself. And then there is Hanzo... the situation is not how we'd hoped, but our reunion has gone much better than I ever expected."
He sounds quite happy about it, a soft smile on his face if she peeks up at him.
It's a reply she initially hums to, content to let it be, but he goes on to speak of Zenyatta, which already has her smiling fondly, and then Hanzo— she understands completely.
"It has been refreshing, hasn't it? I'm glad for much the same reasons on your behalf. I never wanted to see you being second-guessed or avoided."
The jump of his shoulders speaks a bit of surprise, and he looks over at her.
"No, you had not mentioned. He had only spoken of his meeting with McCree." And the wince there is visible, and surely explains how that went, if she didn't hear from McCree himself about it.
The surprise has her smile pinching, amused and apologetic, because well...
"Not as well as it could have, I'm sure, but I had found him rather intriguing to begin with."
She rests a hand on his arm to that wince, mentioning Jesse, and she remembers; she was the one who set Hanzo's nose again, after all.
"There was a peculiar sort of wine spill in the ship bringing us here from the moon, so I met him while he was rather intoxicated by it. He was speaking to you, as though you were there, though I didn't know he was your brother for a time yet. He was mourning you even still, worlds away and years later. By the time he properly looked at me, he called me a beautiful enchantress and a temptress." Already, she's laughing under her breath.
"He was quite polite once he sobered up a bit, but we were fast friends. We were getting along quite well before he seemed to realize who I was, and he tried to 'sabotage' it. It didn't work, of course. But he did tell me your name, and that he had murdered you with his hands— and I had to tell him otherwise, which he also seemed to know of. It's no easy thing, to be blind enough to miss his grief. Or his need for atonement. But I am glad that things are going well for you and him, and that he seems to be doing better."
The why is unspoken, but clear. It's because Genji's here and able to show him the side of himself he'd recovered, as well as the new side he'd forged in his recovery.
He listens to her, attentively, chuckling at parts but eventually going quiet. He is well aware of Hanzo's need for atonement, of course, of the grief and self-punishment. He supposes that is better than still being happy Genji was injured.
He remembers soft words after the attack, the feeling of tears from another. He is not sure he will ever be able to ask Hanzo what he said to a man he thought dying.
He takes a deep breath, though.
"He is doing better. Not perfectly, of course, but better. I understand that need for sabotage - it is something he has done with me and several others. As if believing showing the most monstrous parts of himself will drive those who sympathize away."
He shakes his head a little. "It will not and is not easy. But it is something I am willing to work on."
That breath he takes has her leaning more of her weight on him, head on his shoulder as they watch the next scene of the dance in slow motion, knowing him well by now. He'd remembered something. The centering breaths she'd taught him were perfected by actual monks, later in his life, and it works so much smoother for him now. Just one inhale, one exhale. She's glad for that, as well. For all the ways he's improved and walked forward.
"Mm, I can wrap my mind about it as well, much as I wish he would find kindness for himself. You'd written your feelings about him to me before. I'm glad that he's allowing you in, in return, and beginning to accept your feelings. I've tried to be here for him myself."
It wasn't an easy thing to do, but she had already seen how much pain and grief he had been through over the years, and with no knowledge of the other side and no one to help him... She understood enough to let Genji's forgiveness soothe her own ire, and allow herself to continue the tentative friendship they'd began when they first met. She knew he was a man who was suffering from the very moment she saw him, and then he'd shown her other sides of himself along the way, trusted in her— she couldn't help but want to return that trust.
Angela would never turn him away. This is her way of letting Genji know she'd already experienced his worse behaviors and that she would be helping him, too. Hanzo, and Genji, would never be alone in this.
His hand finds hers and squeezes it gently, knowing what she's promising wordlessly. Again, he thinks, she's one of the kindest people he knows, even as she's fiercely protective as well.
He knows, from Zenyatta, that staying kind in the face of unkindness is a skill that takes years to master - one that Genji can not say he's mastered fully either.
"You have done so much for the both of us. Sometimes I feel there are not enough words or actions to thank you with."
And that's beyond his own feelings for her - he owes her his life, even as she's constantly reminded him he owes her nothing.
Genji finds her hand and slender fingers splay to allow his between them, covering the back of his hand with her other. Angela's had practice in maintaining her kindness. So often that unkindness comes from those who are injured and hurting, lashing out— she could never be hurt or allow herself to be upset with people who were struggling already. That's where Hanzo is, even if the wounds weren't physical. Besides, his attempts at lashing out have been pale at best.
"You've already given me plenty, in both regards."
Angela knows she has his affection and his trust, his gratitude. She knows he's done everything in his power to make the best of the life she'd saved. That's all she'd ever ask of him is to treat it well this time. All she ever wants for those that pass beneath her hands is to see them living a fulfilling life. Getting that second chance. He's given her all that and more by making her a part of it.
It's a difficult thing to put into words. So when the demonstration ends and the lesson begins, she's one of the first rising to her feet and offering him her hand up. It's time to learn their dance.
They share a connection that Genji will always find hard to define, if someone asks. Yes, there is the aspect of doctor and patient - but it goes beyond that, beyond just the care of a doctor for someone injured.
There is a true love, caring, in all of her actions. Something she gives to everyone who passes through her care, something that had stunned him, unsure of how it could be real, when he was in pain.
Zenyatta and she are the reasons that Genji is here today. That he can have it inside himself to forgive his brother.
Instead of trying to articulate it further, he squeezes her hand again and leans against her. When she rises and offers her hand, he takes it, standing with her and putting his mask back on over his face.
It's enough. More than. They have the understanding of what the other means to them, where they fit in each other's lives, and that's all they needed. So they watch the rest of the demonstration in peace and the warmth of the other pressed to their side, and when it's time to stand, he's taking her hand and allowing her to help him up as he covers a scarred face once more and she presses a kiss to the snout of the mask.
A twirl under his arm, grinning, and she drags him right off to start practicing. They'll always be able to uncover that happiness in one another, she thinks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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She'd told him as much, here. But their affection and love was enough. Knowing they'd always be there for one another and that they were comfortable was enough. It was everything, actually. No one would replace what they are to one another, or how they feel for one another. Doctor and patient, deeply connected and twined together tight— there was no breaking that bond, either.
He tips his mask up to reveal his face only to her, hidden by the angle of his arm and the tip of his mask so the bump of his nose to hers nets him an immediate smooch in return, catching the corner of his mouth.
"I should think this flower is happy just where she is."
Leaning against him, watching a performance unfold before them, in realtime and then again slowing the moves down.
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It is true, especially since he enjoys her company as well. She doesn't have as many research subjects here as she did back home, when he was younger - but he would just as willingly sit up to listen to her discuss what she is doing here.
He watches the instructor for a moment longer, twining their arms together and holding her hand.
"How have you been finding the festival so far, Angela?"
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If only she had anything to speak of; she doesn't, not here, with few enough people to see and a promise to their confidentiality to not even speak of issues vaguely from the moonblessing interest or their effects she's observed in others. But she thinks she'd much rather spend time with him in relative silence, just sitting at his side. There was a comfort to that before, when he was still recovering, and there's comfort in it now. They're easy in each other's company. They could watch stupid things on the broadcasts here and just share their warmth.
His arm twines around hers and her fingers splay to allow his closer, her other coming to bracket his skin in her own.
"With good company? Perfectly tolerable. I have to say, however, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Last time it hadn't ended terribly well with the vines and everything, so I suppose staying on our toes to dance will serve us well. And yourself?"
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"I think I am more glad to see Master Zenyatta in a world where he is not judged for being an Omnic, and how he has been able to express himself. And then there is Hanzo... the situation is not how we'd hoped, but our reunion has gone much better than I ever expected."
He sounds quite happy about it, a soft smile on his face if she peeks up at him.
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"It has been refreshing, hasn't it? I'm glad for much the same reasons on your behalf. I never wanted to see you being second-guessed or avoided."
Hanzo's a slightly more difficult manner, but...
"Did I tell you how I met Hanzo, here?"
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"No, you had not mentioned. He had only spoken of his meeting with McCree." And the wince there is visible, and surely explains how that went, if she didn't hear from McCree himself about it.
"How did it go?"
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"Not as well as it could have, I'm sure, but I had found him rather intriguing to begin with."
She rests a hand on his arm to that wince, mentioning Jesse, and she remembers; she was the one who set Hanzo's nose again, after all.
"There was a peculiar sort of wine spill in the ship bringing us here from the moon, so I met him while he was rather intoxicated by it. He was speaking to you, as though you were there, though I didn't know he was your brother for a time yet. He was mourning you even still, worlds away and years later. By the time he properly looked at me, he called me a beautiful enchantress and a temptress." Already, she's laughing under her breath.
"He was quite polite once he sobered up a bit, but we were fast friends. We were getting along quite well before he seemed to realize who I was, and he tried to 'sabotage' it. It didn't work, of course. But he did tell me your name, and that he had murdered you with his hands— and I had to tell him otherwise, which he also seemed to know of. It's no easy thing, to be blind enough to miss his grief. Or his need for atonement. But I am glad that things are going well for you and him, and that he seems to be doing better."
The why is unspoken, but clear. It's because Genji's here and able to show him the side of himself he'd recovered, as well as the new side he'd forged in his recovery.
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He remembers soft words after the attack, the feeling of tears from another. He is not sure he will ever be able to ask Hanzo what he said to a man he thought dying.
He takes a deep breath, though.
"He is doing better. Not perfectly, of course, but better. I understand that need for sabotage - it is something he has done with me and several others. As if believing showing the most monstrous parts of himself will drive those who sympathize away."
He shakes his head a little. "It will not and is not easy. But it is something I am willing to work on."
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"Mm, I can wrap my mind about it as well, much as I wish he would find kindness for himself. You'd written your feelings about him to me before. I'm glad that he's allowing you in, in return, and beginning to accept your feelings. I've tried to be here for him myself."
It wasn't an easy thing to do, but she had already seen how much pain and grief he had been through over the years, and with no knowledge of the other side and no one to help him... She understood enough to let Genji's forgiveness soothe her own ire, and allow herself to continue the tentative friendship they'd began when they first met. She knew he was a man who was suffering from the very moment she saw him, and then he'd shown her other sides of himself along the way, trusted in her— she couldn't help but want to return that trust.
Angela would never turn him away. This is her way of letting Genji know she'd already experienced his worse behaviors and that she would be helping him, too. Hanzo, and Genji, would never be alone in this.
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He knows, from Zenyatta, that staying kind in the face of unkindness is a skill that takes years to master - one that Genji can not say he's mastered fully either.
"You have done so much for the both of us. Sometimes I feel there are not enough words or actions to thank you with."
And that's beyond his own feelings for her - he owes her his life, even as she's constantly reminded him he owes her nothing.
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"You've already given me plenty, in both regards."
Angela knows she has his affection and his trust, his gratitude. She knows he's done everything in his power to make the best of the life she'd saved. That's all she'd ever ask of him is to treat it well this time. All she ever wants for those that pass beneath her hands is to see them living a fulfilling life. Getting that second chance. He's given her all that and more by making her a part of it.
It's a difficult thing to put into words. So when the demonstration ends and the lesson begins, she's one of the first rising to her feet and offering him her hand up. It's time to learn their dance.
no subject
There is a true love, caring, in all of her actions. Something she gives to everyone who passes through her care, something that had stunned him, unsure of how it could be real, when he was in pain.
Zenyatta and she are the reasons that Genji is here today. That he can have it inside himself to forgive his brother.
Instead of trying to articulate it further, he squeezes her hand again and leans against her. When she rises and offers her hand, he takes it, standing with her and putting his mask back on over his face.
fin
A twirl under his arm, grinning, and she drags him right off to start practicing. They'll always be able to uncover that happiness in one another, she thinks.