Overwatch ➸ Reader Insert Oneshots

Genji // Nightmares

Requested by: Let_The_Dream_Free 

Prompt 68. "Are you okay? You're sweating." "Bad dream."  

[Rating: PG]
[Word Count: 1478]
[Summary: Genji has a nightmare, and you finally get him to open up.]
[Genre: Fluff, angst]
[Unedited]

     Genji Shimada was shaking, trembles washing over him in waves, and you had no idea what to do. You had been doing your best to support your new Blackwatch compatriot throughout his first couple of months of service, but you honestly didn't know how to respond to his current state.

     You'd only let yourself into his room to deliver some pain medication on Doctor Angela Ziegler's behalf. If you'd known you would find him in this state, you would have insisted that she came along, because although you assisted much with the programming of his cybernetics, the human part of him was out of your area of expertise, and you wouldn't be able to do much if he was in a state of medical emergency. 

     "Genji?" You reached a tentative hand out, lightly pressing it to his arm in an attempt to get him to stir. You almost immediately withdrew it when you felt how astonishingly hot his skin had become. "Damn, this is bad," you muttered.

     You set the bottle of painkillers on his nightstand before rushing to remove the metal attachments that masked the majority of his face. You'd only seen his face once or twice, in curious glances while you assisted Doctor Ziegler in the early stages of his cyberization and recovery. Seeing it again, and the conflicting emotions that flashed across it in his slumber, was somewhat jarring for you. "Genji!" you tried again, louder this time. 

     He shifted, his eyes flying open. In the next moment, he'd grabbed you, aggressively pinning you flat against the bed. A low hiss escaped his lips, his grip tightening around your wrists, firm enough to hurt.

     You were on your stomach, wincing at the slight pain Genji was causing you as he pressed his knee into your back. His anguish was not a result of physical pain, it seemed. A relief, as a nightmare would be much easier for you to handle than a medical emergency. "You're being surprisingly forward for somebody who just woke up," you joked with a strained chuckle.

     His hands left your wrists almost immediately and he moved off of you. "I am . . . terribly sorry. You surprised me and I acted on reflex."

     You moved to a seated position on the bed and studied his expression. Even with the scar tissue that spread across some of his face, you could still see some of the youth he had left in him, the worry hidden in the darkness of his eyes. "It's my fault. I let myself in. To my defense, it was out of concern for you."

     He was quiet, his gaze moving to the painkillers on the nightstand, which were accompanied by the attachments you'd taken off of him.

     "Are you okay? You're sweating."

     "Bad dream."

     "Want to talk about it?"

     "I'd rather not."

     Doctor Ziegler knew everything, as did the officials involved in the decision to rebuild Genji into what he was now. Genji had given them his story, but he'd never reached out to you. You always tried so hard to be supportive and to help him recover emotionally, and he still hesitated to trust you. His trust issues were warranted by his background, you at least knew that much, but you didn't know any of the details. "You can talk to me, Genji. I won't hurt you for it."

     "You wouldn't be able to," Genji responded dully. "This new body is painful enough on its own, but you couldn't hope to even dent the armor it provides."

     "I don't mean physical hurt." 

     He ran his non-cybernetic hand through his hair. "My personal sorrows are nothing to be worried about. I am no longer even human; your sense of humanity is wasted on me."

     "Is that it? Your prosthetics make you feel less human?" It wasn't the backstory you'd intended to get, but it was progress.

     Genji's eyes wandered back to you, and the stress of his medical procedures and adjusting to his new life was evident in his posture. "You say 'prosthetics' like I had a single limb replaced. That is not the case; I am more metal than man now. What is left of me is flawed and scarred. I've lost the human part of myself in the wreckage of my past."

     He moved across the bed to reclaim his mask, but you took a hold of his arm, pulling it back softly. "You may be scarred, but you are not flawed. Even undergoing a variety of changes, you are still the man you were before any of this happened. To me, you are just as much of a man as anybody else here, if not more so."

     "You embellish your description of me."

     "Not nearly enough so to counter your warped view of yourself," you responded cautiously. "Think of it this way: even with cybernetic enhancements, the heart of a man still beats under the metal." You moved your hand to rest on his chest as you said this, but the sharpness of Genji's gaze caused you to almost immediately drop your hand back into your lap. "Sorry."

     He stilled for a moment before reaching his hand out to yours, hesitantly pulling it back to rest on the metal chestplate that wrapped around much of his torso. Through the thickness of the metal, you could feel the soft thudding of his heart. "It is one of the few things I can take pride in. I am relieved that my heart was spared, and that it is able to beat without assistance."

     It was only then that you realized how closely the two of you had shifted together. The room felt a thousand times smaller and you were blushing. You hoped he wouldn't notice the flush to your cheeks that the dim lighting the moon outside his window made apparent. This was not the time to be thinking about potential romance; Genji needed emotional support and to think anything else was selfish. "You should have more to take pride in. There is honor in accepting yourself."

     "For now," Genji sighed, "I think that having you accept me will be honorable enough." 

     You cast your gaze downwards, no longer able to meet his eyes. It bothered you to no end that Genji could not view himself in a healthy manner, and that your words seemed to do little to help his shattered morale. Even so, you knew how grief worked and about the realistically difficult process Genji would likely undergo in becoming comfortable with himself. After all, Blackwatch agents didn't typically have happy backgrounds. Blackwatch was mentally a mess, and Genji was no exception. 

     You had been silent a moment too long, but Genji said nothing, practicing the stillness only a trained ninja could possess. Your hands tangled with his blankets as you fidgeted. "Genji, I know that things are grim right now. I don't expect you to have gone through cyberization without any ill effects. Just know that I'll be here, however long your recovery takes."

     Genji moved forward on the bed, taking hold of you and pulling you towards him in an embrace. If he could feel the heightened speed of your heartbeat or the warming of your skin, he didn't let on. "It is a relief to hear you say that. I must admit that you . . . make me feel something close to human. The words of most come as no consolation to me, but yours seem to hold a certain weight."

     You couldn't see his face; your head rested on his shoulder, and you could only view the minimalist stylings of the room behind him. You pulled yourself away slightly, slowly, so that you could meet his eyes. Genji was not the type for physical contact. If anything, he was withdrawn and cold towards most agents. Having his arms hanging loosely around your lower back, as you sat alone with him in his private quarters, came as a shock to you.

     Genji was kissing you before you could utter another word of comfort or a statement of your confusion. Your entire spine went stock straight, and you almost forgot to close your eyes as his lips worked against yours, his tongue dancing along the parting of your lips. He kissed you with a gentle fervor, and you could guess how long it'd been since he'd last felt physical comfort. The thought of Genji trying to deal with his emotions on his own stirred a feeling of bitter guilt within you, mixing with the bliss that was building as he caressed your face.

     When he pulled away, you were quiet, uncertain of what you wanted to say.

     For once, he was not. "I am different when you are near. I am at home."