need_healing | idk number whatever

idk number whatever

[Leading up to the Shimada Clan's final days as a cohesive and respectable organization, Genji had thought that finally bringing low the family that had caused him so much pain would make him feel... better. The weight would lift and he would find some sort of respite from his emotions. Anyone outside looking in would have been able to quite simply tell him that such an idea was a load of shit, but it had driven him. Instead, when the deed was done and he's torn the last leg out from under the clan, he'd only been left with a feeling of aching emptiness.

Perhaps it had seemed strange then for that to be the time he finally agreed to the cybernetic streamlining that Dr. Ziegler had been quietly trying to convince him of for far too long. Her gentle approach had been rebuffed, if not outright ignored, every time. There was a part of him that preferred the hellish appearance Blackwatch had gifted him with, whether he thought he deserved it or it simply made his job easier.

But there was no job anymore. Certainly Commander Reyes could continue to send him on operations, but he's seen enough to know that even that isn't going to last forever. Overwatch, Blackwatch... it was all spiraling out of hand and eventually nothing was going to be able to sustain it. He couldn't stay, Reyes' wishes be damned, but he wasn't going to leave like this either.

He knows Dr. Ziegler worries about him- he fights her on it whenever he has his appointments. The rest of the time, when he's not in her office because he has to be, when they pass in the hall, or cross ways during mealtimes... it scares him. But he owes her this and he can't leave without her knowing.

So the night before the operation- the night before he makes his decision final- he sneaks out. The window to her personal quarters is on the tenth floor and certainly not an entrance any sane person would expect, which makes it all the better for clandestine arrivals. Bare metal feet make the softest of clicking noises when they touch down on the sill, the dark shape of his body nearly hidden against the backdrop of the night sky, save for the dim red glow of his cybernetics.

He shouldn't be here.]

Dr. Ziegler... [A pause, then softer, as if he's said something he shouldn't.] Angela.

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[Guilt claws at him when he sees the look on her face change and her unexpectedly sad answer. But then, what had he expected? She knew by now how poorly trying to pity him went over and he didn't want her to try convincing him to stay. He couldn't; if he did, he was certain Reyes was going to drag him down along with everything (and everyone) else. He had one last chance and he needs to take it... in more ways than one.]

I know. [He finally steps away from the window and approaches her desk, reaching out to pick up the projector disc for the hologram. It still doesn't feel real, but by tomorrow it will be. He clicks the button to turn it off and sets it back down. When he turns his head to look at her, his gaze catches the pale curve of her bare shoulder before rising to her face. She has never been anything other than beautiful to him, a woman beyond his means to comprehend.]

There is no need to waste your concern- I won't be your responsibility after tomorrow. But I wanted to thank you. And tell you that I will do my best not to ruin your good work. [He lifts his mechanical hand and flexes the fingers. In less than twenty-four hours, it was going to be an entirely different limb.]

I don't think it's a waste. [She says it before she can stop herself, swallowing hard in the awkward silence that lingers after. The Reyes she remembers wasn't a cruel man, but he was pragmatic, and he knew an angry Genji would be more useful to Blackwatch. It had felt wrong... it still does, and she can't let go of it.]

I... you're welcome, Genji. I wish I could have done more for you. [She becomes aware of how close he is and how... under dressed she is. Should she put more distance between them? She doesn't want to.] I can... recommend other doctors who works in cybernetics. Good ones. I know you've never cared for anyone...

[She finds herself turning to look at him as she struggles to find the words. 'Anyone who isn't me'. Another facet to their relationship that, once they were alone, became almost impossible to not think about.]

...If something goes wrong, I'd sleep better knowing you had someone to go to.

[Of course she thinks that way, but it's the truth: once he leaves, there wouldn't be a point in worrying about him. He wasn't coming back. What could she do? Overwatch needed her more than he would. Of course, when it comes to actually telling her that, the words don't feel right.]

Don't. No one else needs to be involved in this. [Reyes doesn't know about his plans and the fewer leads he has if he decides to try and drag him back, the better. He needs to disappear and a list of referrals isn't going to help that. And the less Dr. Ziegler knows, the less Reyes had to hold over her head if it came to that.

She looks at him and he has to fight down the instinct to look away, to drop his head in deference. He's never really met her eyes before, always too afraid- of what he might see... or what she would. But this time he stares back and before he can second guess himself, or give in to the uncertainty of his emotions, tangled and knotted beyond all hope, he brushes the backs of metal fingers against her jaw. It's the first time he's been brave enough to touch her simply for the sake of touching.]

Sleep better knowing I will be free.

[She nods, already used to dropping certain topics with him for his sake. Here she was, still trying to find ways to help even after she admitted that she had done all she could.

Her eyes widen at his touch, sucking in a sharp breath- before she can think she grasps his hand in hers, not to push him away but to hold him there. She's trembling now, her heart pounding in her chest. What was she doing?]

I'll try. [To be free- in this moment, with him so close and all of their walls slowly being torn down... she wants nothing more than that. She isn't ready to give up on Overwatch. She can still do more... just a little bit more. But the ache in her chest was becoming unbearable, knowing that this was the last time they'd ever see each other.]

I hope you find whatever you're looking for, Genji. [She turns to face him now, and takes a hesitant step towards him, the gap between them closing.] And I hope you can be happy. That's... all I've ever wanted for you.

[He almost yanks his hand back when she grabs it, his fingers twitching, expecting a swift rejection that doesn't come. Instead, when she moves closer, her hand warm against the back of his, he finds himself cupping the edge of her jaw in his palm. All of the feelings he'd buried to protect himself- protect her- claw at him, desperate to reach the surface as if they might drown and be forgotten otherwise.]

...Thank you. You have given more than I deserve. [His other hand joins the first, framing her face in a strange, mismatched caress of metal and skin.] I should ask for no more.

[Not because it wasn't what he wanted, but isn't wasn't his to request. And yet, despite himself, he gravitates towards her, towards what he shouldn't want, what he tells himself he can't have. It digs and scrapes and bleeds all the more when he looks into those blue eyes and remembers all the reasons he'd given himself to erect the walls around himself. All the reasons why he'd never let her in. Soon, none of it was going to matter... if it even did now.]

Edited 2018-04-08 02:54 (UTC)

[Angela was crossing into a dangerous territory, she knows, but all of the warning signs melt away at his touch. She instinctively tilts her cheek into his palm, drawing in a shaky breath as she savors it.]

You deserve so much more. [Her voice shakes when she speaks, and she knows she can say nothing else. In the privacy or her quarters, hours away from exiting each other's lives, it's one thing to acknowledge their physical attraction. It's another to go beyond that. As if they could ever have some sort of life together.

Her hands are trembling when she reaches up, not out of fear of him, but that he might deny himself this, even now. She moves slowly, giving him time to reject her advances, her fingers deftly working to unclasp his mask.

If there was a time to put a stop to this, it was now, in the lingering silence that followed as they watched each other. Knowing it was ultimately up to her, Angela takes in a slow breath before she leans up and presses her lips to his.

It's less of a kiss and more of a reassurance, her lips feather light against his. There's still that fear that she'll upset him, that she'll move too fast and push him away- she pulls back before she forgets herself, a questioning look in her blue eyes.]

[He'd disagree with her, but he's done enough arguing. There's the barest of flinches from him when she reaches for his mask, but not enough to stop her. There's a part of him that's still afraid, convinced that any happiness he could find with her will only turn to ash the second he dares to accept it. But he wants this, wants her, want to feel even a fraction of the goodness she seems to see in him if only for this brief window of time.

He's not used to being touched and so rarely leaves his face uncovered that even the gentle brush of her lips sends sparks flying across his nerves. It's almost painful and he has to remind himself that it isn't the pain to run from. He doesn't need to fight this.]

Angela... [His hands grip her, fingers burying themselves in her hair as he closes the last distance between them and slants his mouth against hers. It's clumsy- it's been a lifetime since he's kissed anyone, and it feels different now, not just because it's her, but everything feels different from what he remembers. Maybe it's for the best; she doesn't deserve the pieces of the boy they'd scraped up in Hanamura. She doesn't deserve the man they'd made him into afterwards either, but for one night, perhaps he could forgive himself.]

[He says her name again and it's all she needs to forget everything that wasn't the two of them. She wants to put everything and nothing into the kiss, wants him to know what she can never say while at the same time afraid that she'll overwhelm him. The mask is placed on the desk next to them and she places her hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly as she presses herself up and into the kiss.

Nothing about this was fair, it's not what he deserves, to only have this for a few hours. But she knows she can't stop him, so they'll have to take what they can.

It's hard to pull back, but she can no longer put off the need for air and breaks the kiss with a quiet gasp, her chest rising and falling. All of her is trembling now and she presses her forehead to the edge of his visor to steady herself, her breath warm on his lips.]

Genji, I- [She knows if she says too much, or the wrong thing, she could ruin this. But her emotions are overwhelming, clawing and screaming at her to just say it. Make him stay, don't let him go.

But it doesn't need to be said. It's spoken in the way he holds her face in his hands and in the sad look reflected in her eyes, and it didn't make a difference. He was leaving.

She gingerly turns them so her back's against the desk, letting go of him so she can pull her top off. Heat washes over as the shirt falls to the floor, and she has to resist the urge to cover herself up- this is what she wants, for him to see and have all of her.

When she pulls him into another kiss she closes that distance between them, the feeling of her bare skin against his metal plating sending a shiver up her spine.]

[Don't. The word is on the tip of his tongue but she cuts herself off before he needs to say it. They didn't have to pretend that this was only physical, but saying it still feels off limits. 'Plausible deniability' was the term the commanders liked to use.

He follows the way she turns easily enough, his thumbs stroking her cheeks anxiously until he's forced to let go so she can start to undress. This reality had seemed tenuous before, breakable at any moment, but any questions as to where this would lead and if they were willing to seize it are gone along with her top.

His fingers skim her cheek again as he looks at her, beautiful even in the dim glow of the desk lamp. He trails his touch down her throat and over her shoulder.] Utsukushī...

[She returns them to the kiss and this time he pushes back, reaching around with one hand to swipe the scattered items off the edge of her desk before lifting her up onto it. The clatter as everything hits the floor is shockingly loud compared to just the soft sounds of his voices and quickening breath, but he barely cares. His hands slide upwards from her waist, following the curve of her ribs to her breasts, filling his palms with the warm weight of them. And when he mouth breaks away from hers, it's only to leave a wet trail down her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse.

Through it all, he does his best not to think about the metal and wiring in place of what should have been hot skin, or what it must feel like to her. But it's how he had come to her- how she had accepted him as. Perhaps she was the only one who could. It's a grim thought and one he forcibly shoves from his mind, distracting himself by curling his tongue into the hollow between her collar bones and breathing in the scent of her skin. He wants to remember this.]

[Everything they want to say and can't will instead have to spoken through their actions, in their caresses and kisses and the way they hold onto each other. And afterwards, they'll have to pretend that none of this had ever happened. Only when he's gone and after both Morrison and Reyes have interrogated her over it will Angela allow herself to give in to overwhelming sadness bearing down on both of them.

Her hands drag down his back as she commits the way he feels in her arms to memory, desperate to not forget any of this. The way he clears her desk is a bit surprising, but they don't have much time and taking him her to bed felt almost too intimate. A shiver follows in the wake of his hands, culminating in a soft groan when he takes her breasts into his hands. She lifts a hand to comb through dark hair when he moves down to her throat, a slight tilt of her head offering up more pale skin.]

Genji, ah- [Something in German spills from her lips when she feels his tongue against her skin. Maybe it's something she wouldn't dare to say in English, maybe it's nothing more than a few swears.

Heat radiates from where he touches her, from the marks he leaves on her throat, slowly washing over her in a way so painfully pleasurable, she feels like she could break down. How long they've both wanted this, only for it to never really happen.]

Edited 2018-04-09 04:38 (UTC)

[She tilts her head back and he retraces his way up the other side of her throat, more teeth and tongue this time; his hands squeeze her breasts, thumbs rubbing rough circles over taught nipples. He desperately wants this to mean something, but it can't- not beyond this night. Her German is answered in Japanese, mumbled against her ear, a promise he knows she can't understand that he would carry her with him, no matter how far he went.

He pulls his head back then, just enough that he can look at her, cupping her face in his hands with a tenderness that speaks where his words can't. It's all he has to give her, the last little piece of himself that isn't scared, twisted by anger and pain. It lasts a fleeting moment and the way he kisses her in the next by contrast is hot and demanding, dropping his hands to hook his fingers into the waist of her shorts to start tugging them down over her hips.]

[When he takes her face back into his hands and looks at her, Angela can feel what little strength she's built up beginning to crumble. Despite it, she holds on and gives him a weak smile before he pulls her into another kiss, all too content to let their hunger for each other take over.

It's her turn to cradle his face in her hands, thumbs soothingly brushing over scars, one last vain attempt to calm his turmoil. She only lets go so she can grip the edge of the desk and lift herself up, making it easier for him to tug her shorts off.

With her last bit of clothing removed, the reality of the situation really hits her- she's naked in front of Genji. Shattering the mood a little bit she blushes, looking almost shy as she leans back and moves a leg around him to tug him in closer. She takes one of his hands in hers and guides his touch down her throat and between her breasts, over her stomach and down into the warmth between her legs. Angela doubts her needs the guidance, but she needs him to understand that in this moment she's completely his without her saying a single word.]

[She doesn't need to lead him, no, but he lets her do it anyway, red eyes watching her as she moves him lower and lower; his own way of giving himself over to her. He wants the time to learn her body with his hands, but they don't have that luxury, so this will have to do. He lifts his free hand, metal fingers curling into her hair and tugging her head back for his mouth just as he slides the fingers of his good hand between her legs, her sex wet and warm against his skin. Fuck.

A low sound rises in the back of his throat while his fingers explore her, slicking the pad of his thumb before pressing it up against her clit. The wordless noise turns to a rough groan, just shy of a growl as he bites down on her pulse, leaning into her and rubbing his thumb against her in firm little strokes.]

[The way he tugs her head back by her hair and his mouth against her throat shouldn't feel as good as it does, but Angela can't help the shiver that coils up her spine, groaning softly as she willingly obliges and offers up more of herself to him. She's not sure what she'll do if he leaves marks... well, if anyone does feel bold enough to ask, it'll be none of their business.

One shaking hand grips his shoulder as she feels his fingers between her legs, his groan answered with a sharp inhale that breaks into a weak whine when she feels his thumb against her clit.]

Scheisse, that's it-[Her other leg instinctively moves for him. Beads of sweat begin to dot her forehead, each firm press of his thumb causing small jolts that begin to build into something overwhelming, and soon she's making small noises to match his own. Her hand, still trembling, drags down his chest, leaving just the faintest marks in its wake.]

Edited 2018-04-11 05:00 (UTC)

[She drags her nails down what's left of his chest and he pulls his head back to hiss quietly. Good, he wants to say, don't be gentle. He doesn't deserve gentle and pain is familiar to him these days. It's almost more comforting to hurt than it is to suffer nothing at all. But that's a wall he still keeps up, for her sake; he knows what she would think of it.]

You have claws, Dr. Ziegler, [is what comes out instead, the low pitch of his voice teasing but not cruel. There might even be the barest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He kisses her again then, hard and quick, his thumb bearing down on her clit for a few hurried strokes before he's pulling his hands back.

That out of all the parts of him that they had either saved or tossed out (and he's under no illusion that that isn't exactly what they did with the parts of him they didn't want or couldn't use), Overwatch, and by extension, Dr. Ziegler, had salvaged his dick of all things seemed like a bad joke- the worst kind of irony. It had also been a point of contention between them in the past, with her need as a medical professional to treat the whole of him. Of course he hadn't made it easy for her, but in the end she could at least be certain that right now, right here, there was no concern that he wasn't going to be able to perform.

He yanks at the suit around his hips, the armor already uncomfortably tight, and it's a relief when it comes away, joining her clothes on the floor with a clatter. His hands slide up her thighs as he leans back in and tugs her forward in the same motion, pulling her up to the edge of the desk. They're close enough now that his cock rests against the crook of her hip, hard and unquestioningly ready.

Do you want this? It's the unspoken question in his eyes when he looks at her, his fingers pressing hard into the soft skin of her legs. It's her last chance to change her mind. He wouldn't blame her if she did.]

[Somehow she manages to turn a darker shade of red when he hisses, a hesitant look replaced with an actual smile at his remark. She's not a literal angel herself, and she almost remarks upon it... but it would be cruel to suggest that they would have other opportunities like this.

She lets him pull her back into a kiss with a muffled groan, her knuckles turning white as she grips the edge of the desk. The entirety of Genji's recovery had been difficult for them both, but they nearly reached a tipping point when it came to his sexual performance. In the end Angela had backed off, and had simply let him known that she trusted him to come to her if something went wrong. It was awkward, but it let them move on and it calmed him down.

His cock presses against the inside of her thigh and she swallows hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She wants this, she knows she does, but with the knowledge that he would be leaving makes the realization only more painful.

Her hands cradle his face and she wraps her legs around his middle, tilting her hips up and pulling him in that last little bit of distance.]

It's all right. [Her voice drops to a soft whisper, kissing him and mumbling against his lips:] I want this.

[It's not just this that she wants, but she knows she can't say anything further.]

[It doesn't take much; he adjusts himself and the head of his cock slides between the folds of her sex. There's a part of him, angry and disgusted by his own existence, that wants to chide her for admitting it out loud- that she could possibly want this. But what was he really expecting? She never would have let either of them get this far if she wasn't committed to seeing it through to the end. It just wasn't like her to back out.

And for just the briefest of moments, with the warmth of her soft hands against his scared face, he tilts his head against her palm and lets himself surrender. Everything else melts away. It doesn't last, an ephemeral feeling that he quickly locks away again before it gets dangerous.

Red eyes refocus on her and he grips her hips. His mouth hovers against hers, but never quite solidifies into a kiss; he needs to breathe for this. He does his best to go slowly, but by the time he finally sheaths himself into her, it's with a sharp jerk of his hips and a low growl. He's no stranger to sex, but that had been a lifetime ago and he still doesn't entirely accept that this body is really who he is now. Everything had felt different when he'd opened his eyes in Overwatch's ICU, it still does, and he's gotten used to it. But this...

He shakes himself off and draws his hips back slowly before pushing back in with purpose, a slow-fast rhythm that starts them out. His breath is heavy but measured against her lips, testament to the control he still exerts over himself, his breathing, the steady rock of his body against hers, even the heavy-lidded intensity in his eyes. This close, his entire world feels narrowed down to just her face and those blue eyes, darkened by want, her skin flushed with arousal. It's an image that had haunted his imagination far more often than he would ever admit, but the real thing outstrips any of his wild fantasies by miles.]

[If things were different, she might've tried to coax him into taking it a bit slower if only so he doesn't overwhelm himself, but time is a luxury they don't have.

Her arms circle around his neck and squeeze when he abruptly thrusts into her accompanied by a soft yelp. She closes her eyes as her hips tilt instinctively, shivering as she feels the walls of her sex slick around the shape of his cock. Everything about this becomes too overwhelming and she groans, her cheeking accidentally rubbing against his as she struggles to hold her composure. Blue eye beneath messy blonde hair peek up at him when she manages to lift her gaze, so many unspoken things shared between them in that moment.

There's not much she can do from her perch but offer a subtle roll of her hips to meet each of his thrusts.]

Genji- [It's dangerous to say anything, she knows, but it feels so good, what they've both wanted for so long. Maybe she's too eager to forget that this wasn't going to last, and to just embrace it for what it is. Sweat drips down her throat and back as she clings to him, the heat and wetness between her legs building with each thrust. She whines as the walls of her sex squeeze around him and she becomes hyper aware of how much he fills her up. The sadness that's been haunting them begins to give way to hunger and lust... which might just be for the best.]

I'm here. [It slips out on a whisper before he can stop himself, too distracted by everything else. Fuck. He drops his gaze, knowing he shouldn't have said it, a grimace flickering across his expression before he looks back up and kisses her. Better to occupy their mouths before they went too far. As if this wasn't.

He groans against her mouth and tries to adjust himself into a better position, wanting to be deeper, go faster, but the desk makes for an awkward angle. Cursing under his breath, he forces himself to stop and pulls back, but only so he can get his arms under her knees and hike her legs up, hands gripping her backside so when he steps back away from the desk, he has her in his arms. A few quick strides and he brings them around the desk, shoving her back up against the wall with a quiet grunt, finally able to drive his cock in to the base with the leverage he wants.

He doesn't hold back, leaving behind the softly spoken words and gentle touches in favor of the quick snap of his hips, pinning her between the wall and his body. He's here so they can sate their desires before he's gone- to fuck, because that's what they've been wanting isn't it?]

[The kiss works at distracting Angela, or at least she pretends it does, as if they hadn't already taken this too far. From here until the end it's better if they say nothing and give themselves over to the heat and rhythm of their bodies.

She hastily clings to him when he abruptly hoists her into his arms, blinking in surprise. There's a quiet noise when she feels her back hit the wall, but that's nothing compared to the way she moans when he thrusts back into her, all the way in, hot white pleasure stabbing up the length of her spine. Her shaking legs squeeze tight around him, her skin hot and slick with sweat as her lucidity begins to fall away with each thrust of his hips.

She wants to scream his name, how good it feels, how much she wants this, wants him, and it takes every ounce of control she has left to restrain herself. They were so close like this, and at the same time so far away, Even when she feels herself drowning under the feeling of their bodies pressed together and the sound of his hips driving into hers, Angela can feel another piece of her heart break.

Her toes curl and she gasps and cries out as she feels her orgasm beginning to wash over her- knowing he needs to breathe she presses her face into the crook of his throat in a vain attempt to muffle her cries and groans. Her sex squeezes hard around him, dripping down between her legs and the noise she makes is nearly a desperate sob. It's so good and so wonderful and all she wants is to tell him how good he's making her feel, hard shivers wracking her entire body as wave after wave hits her.]

[Genji wants to believe that there still some way to salvage the distance they need to keep between each other, but he knows they've passed that point by now. It's been creeping in by inches and moments, an insidious weakness for the other- for what they can't have. He could stay, he thinks, likely in a moment of delirium as he fucks his primary physician against the wall of her personal quarters- why not, when the whole organization was on the brink of collapse anyway. Just let it all come crashing down around them. He thinks he might actually laugh then at the sick justice. He would deserve it... but Angela wouldn't. She didn't deserve any of this and it's the only thing that keeps him from ruining everything for his own selfish desires. She deserves better.

So he steels his resolve and lets the base lust of their bodies sweep him under. An ache starts to claw its way up his spine, following the lines of implants drilled into his back, hot and smothered under the suit that wraps his torso, sweat clinging to his hair, itching down the back of his skull. He presses against her, needing the wet heat of her body, needing to feel her pressed against his skin when there's almost nothing from the cybernetics. Only the dull, familiar pain and the ghost of a feeling, the pressure of his body pushed against hers, feeling all the more lacking when he can so keenly feel the hunger for her in the rest of him.

He lets it drive him on, digging his fingers into her sweat slicked skin as his thrusts grow shorter, harder, the tension winding up into his shoulders. She comes, shaking in his arms, and she doesn't need to say anything, he can feel it in her grasping hands and the wordless noises that she tries to hide into his shoulder. Even he had wanted to hold on for longer, he doesn't think he would have been able to. His good arm circled tight around her waist, he snaps the other up against the wall, clenched fingers scraping lines in the paint. He buries himself in her and the orgasm feels like a knife in his back, wrenching out a hard, drawn out snarl, his hips jerking in unsteady spasms, the mix of pain and pleasure unexpectedly heady. Fuck, if he could somehow just stay in this moment for longer, drag it out, relish in the feeling...

But no matter how hard he tries to cling to it, he can feel it already starting to fade and with a defeated groan he slowly sinks to his knees, pulling her down with him. He shivers in the wake of it, sweat stinging his eyes, his cybernetic hand still pressed to the wall beside her head. He doesn't want to let go. He wants to stay. He wants this to be a mistake... but he can't bring himself to think it.]

...Gomen nasai. [It's all he can croak out, his lungs burning, rasping against air that feels too dry and thin.]

Edited 2018-04-13 02:41 (UTC)

[Angela holds him tightly as they sink to the floor together, as if he'll disappear the instant she lets him go. She tilts her head up to rub her cheek against his, her fingers coming through dark hair.]

Shhh...[Perhaps she's being too tender, but what's done is done, and all she wants is to give him this last piece of comfort. He didn't change his mind when he first climbed in through her window, when they kissed, when she gave herself over to him... if they were to part ways after this, let their last minutes together be as happy as they can afford them to be. Which isn't much- a bittersweet realization.]

You'll be free. [Her voice breaks despite her efforts.] And I hope you can be happy.

[It would be too much to hope that they would find each other again after all of this, after Overwatch. The horizon was brimming with dark clouds, but Angela's not ready to leave yet. Now more than ever, they need her here. Before tonight, the thought of it wouldn't have hurt her the way it does now.

With great reluctance she's the one who starts to untangle her bodies, gingerly sliding off his lap with a quiet noise. Her hand worryingly caresses his cheek before she abruptly withdraws her touch, remembering that moment was now over.]

Are you all right? [She pauses, and then adds:] Your breathing.

[Neither of them were all right, she knows, but there was nothing to be done about that kind of pain.]

[He leans into her despite himself, his head dropping to her shoulder and his hand sliding from the wall to grip her arm. He hurts, in every conceivable way there is to hurt, the warmth of her cheek and the soft brush of her fingers through his hair both a balm that he desperately wants to let himself accept. He can't answer her- any words that comes out of him are going to be too broken.

She finally pulls away and he shivers, suddenly cold. His skin itches and his cybernetics ache, familiar annoyances that seem amplified now in the absence of what pleasure had felt like, even for a moment. It's the way she yanks her hand back from his face that drives the final nail into what they'd had and for a brief moment, he feels something bitter and angry rising up in the back of his throat. Of course, even if he did allow himself the pleasure of screaming, he's not sure much would have come of it with the way it feels like he can't quite get a full breath.]

It's fine. [He's wheezing, but it's fine. What else was he going to say? His hands drop away from her and he leans over to push himself up, his body protesting, but it's all coming back to him now. Pain is familiar; the way his head spins when he finally straightens up isn't. He catches himself, his first step more of a stagger, and he holds his breath if only to keep silent the noise his breathing makes as he gropes for his mask. There's a soft hiss of pressurized air as he clips it back into place with shaking fingers, leaning heavily against the edge of Angela's desk. Glancing aside, he spots the little hologram disc, teetering on the edge, having just barely avoided being swept to the floor earlier. He reaches out on a whim and slides it back, the schematics for the new suit flickering on again, a silent reminder of his conviction. Tomorrow, everything would change.]

All right. [She prods and he shuts her out. It's just like their appointments- except for the part where she's naked and in need of a shower. Sweat damp hair is pushed hastily out of her face as she tries to think of something to say. It felt too cruel to pretend that nothing had happened, but what would be the point in the opposite? Tomorrow they would be gone from each other's lives... possibly for good.

But it still hurts, even though she knows he's only doing what he thinks is best. Maybe it's her fault. An apology hovers on the tip of her tongue, but she bites her lip and swallows it.

She folds her arms and watches him pick up the disc, wondering what's going through his head. She tries to picture him slipping out the first chance he's left alone- he'll have to move fast, because he'll barely have any time before they notice he's gone. Reyes will be furious. Morrison and Amari will question her- she's never had to lie to her superiors before. But there's a first time for everything.]

Can you wait here, just for a second? [She considers getting dressed for this, but she'll need a shower regardless, and- well, he'd already seen everything. Angela slips quietly from the room and returns a second later, two bottles in her hands. She works diligently, as if she wasn't completely naked in front of him, retrieving a pen and note pad from the floor. Something is hastily scribbled down and, with a deep breath to steel herself, she carefully begins to remove one of the bottle's labels. Might as well break more rules tonight.]

You might want to hide this somewhere you can retrieve it from while you're... on your way out. You'd be better at smuggling it out than I would be. [After they realize he's gone she'll be pulled into an interrogation room. With one label removed and in one piece, she begins work on the second one.] Just in case, I'm dating the prescription to a few days ago. You were experiencing more pain than usual and needed some mild painkillers.

[It's a story she's making up more for herself than him, as if he'd answer anyone's questions if they bothered to ask. With the labels switched, she attaches the notes to one of the bottles. There's a hesitant pause before she reaches over and takes his free hand, pressing the bottle into his palm.]

They'll make you drowsy, so try not to take any until you're sure you're safe... and please take some.

[It's the last thing she can truly do for him.]

[He could have been more polite, she was concerned after all, but unless she was going to give him a new pair of lungs tomorrow on top of everything else, there was no point in fussing over it. It was his fault anyway, overexerting himself like he had. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing, but he can still feel her gaze on him. A moment... he just needs a moment.

She asks him to wait and he cracks an eye, one red iris peering at her from under the shadow of his visor. Did she think he was going to leap back out the window when he could barely walk without falling over? He watches her go, taking in the shape of her and trying to commit it to memory in the few seconds he has.

By the time she comes back, he's put himself in order and is standing straighter without the need to slump himself over the edge of the desk. His head feels clearer as well, his breathing easier. He's not entirely sure what she's doing until she starts switching the labels and rambling out some sort of excuse. She doesn't have to do this, but he can't bring himself to say it. He doubts she would listen to him anyway.

He hesitates only briefly before closing his fingers around the bottle she gives him. They both knew he hated following 'doctor's orders', but he could give her this one concession.]

I will. Arigatou. [He starts to lift his hand, an urge to touch her just one last time, but stops himself halfway and brushes past her towards the window. He can feel his insides twisting up the closer he gets, teeth clenching behind his mask. Just let him do this... let him just walk away...

He gets to the window and steps up onto the sill, crouched there on the edge of this last threshold, the night air cold against his skin. And there he hesitates, that part of him that had laid broken in her arms so recently howling up from the black pit he had shoved it back down into. A litany of curses tumble through his head, all kept silent, but he finally tugs off his mask and turns around, red eyes bright in the dark as he seeks her.]

...Angela. [One more for the road, as Jesse liked to say- he just wants one more taste of her before he leaves.]

Edited 2018-04-13 06:46 (UTC)

Thank you. [She visibly relaxes as he accepts the pills, a quiet sigh of relief. Genji's refusal of opioids in the past had bordered on self-flagellating, and was one of the things she had refused to compromise on... even though she couldn't actually make him take the pills, she always made sure his prescriptions were filled and delivered to his quarters. It's almost bittersweet that he would finally start accepting her help now.

Anticipation crosses her face when he lifts a hand, replaced with quiet disappointment when he moves past her instead. Right. She can't blame him.

She turns to watch him go, barely bothering to try and hide the look on her face. They had crossed the point of no return, and she was too tired to pretend that this wasn't hurting her. But she wouldn't try to make him linger.

When he turns back around her heart leaps in her chest- it's too much to hope that he'd changed his mind, but...

She smiles, despite the heaviness weighing on her heart and walks over to him. A hand is lifted to cradle the side of his face as she looks at him, her gaze soft and sad at the same time before she pulls him in for one last kiss. All her aching and longing is poured into it, a kiss that can only be shared between two people who didn't know if they'd ever see each other again.

She has to pull away before she's overwhelmed, her breathing growing heavy again. Pink tints her cheeks and she reluctantly steps back, her fingers tracing his cheek before she drops her hand.]

Good bye, Genji. Take care of yourself.

[He's not sure he's kissed anyone else the way he kisses her in that last shared moment between them, answering her unspoken longing in kind as much as he can. He wants to hold her in his arms but he knows if he gave in, it would be too much. This is all he can allow himself.

She steps back and he does let his fingers brush hers as her hand falls away, something that might have been a smile touching the corners of his mouth. It's an expression that never quite reaches his eyes, though. He clips his mask back into place and leans back in the window.]

Sayounara, Dr. Ziegler. See you tomorrow. [When they would have to pretend that nothing had happened. Business as usual. A last glance and drops away into the night, gone as silently as he had arrived.]

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