Chapter Text
Overwatch knew that Null Sector had a leader. They'd gotten enough intelligence reports scrounged up to be able to confirm that. But they didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.
Zenyatta did.
Which meant Zenyatta knew exactly who he was looking at when he glanced over across the battlefield to check the status of his teammates and saw Reinhardt exchanging blows with a tall, broad-shouldered omnic bearing a staff.
Cold horror sat thick in his chest.
He was stuck staring until there was the scrape of metal bouncing off metal far too close to his face and a cry of "Master!" which drew him back to the present. Genji, either having sensed his discord or simply noticing his distraction, had jumped in to deflect the hailstorm of bullets aimed at him by a drone seeking to take advantage of his stolen attention. (Time was a flat circle, wasn’t it? He thought that tactic had stopped working against him years ago.)
He drew up one of his orbs of destruction and sent it flying through the drone's head. Immediately, it crumpled to the ground, all its lights dark.
"Master, are you okay? What's wrong?" Genji spoke urgently and kept his sword aloft, ready to protect them while he tried to help Zenyatta with his turmoil. Despite all his time learning the ways of peace, he’d never forgotten his skills in combat.
"It's..." Zenyatta trailed off, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, and looked over to where Reinhardt was doing everything he could to put Ramattra in the ground.
Genji followed his gaze. For a moment he said nothing, but then there was the flicker of understanding and recognition in his visor that Zenyatta had been expecting. He was clever. Zenyatta had given him more than enough details for him to be able to draw some conclusions. "That's him, isn't it? Ramattra?"
Zenyatta nodded mutely.
"Okay," Genji said, nodding back, the gesture far more firm coming from him. "Alright. I will buy you a moment, but I cannot keep everyone busy for long."
Without question, without hesitation, without condition. Genji had garnered what he needed-- what he wanted-- and immediately decided to provide him with it. All at once he felt a surge of gratitude that the universe saw fit to grant him with the best student ever. He took a split second to curl a hand around the back of Genji's head and smack his array against Genji's visor. It was clumsy, and it would've hurt if the both of them were unarmored and human, but fortunately they were neither of those things. Genji still made a surprised noise.
"Thank you, Genji."
"Do what you must," Genji replied. Then called into his comms; "Reinhardt! My blade is ready, but I need shielding while I prepare!"
Zenyatta heard the crackling reply along his own communication line. "Of course! Brigitte, join me!"
"We will cover you, Genji," Dr. Ziegler said, and across the field she was joined by two more.
Genji gave him a nod, then dashed off to the other side of the battlefield. Conveniently around a corner, leaving Zenyatta mostly out of view. A moment later, Zenyatta saw Reinhardt pull up his shield and back away from Ramattra, disengaging before he turned and activated his armor to charge off in the direction Genji had gone.
Ramattra stopped firing after him once he lost sight of him, turning instead to find a new target.
His optics were technically hidden, same as Zenyatta's own, but that didn’t stop Zenyatta from feeling the full force of their gaze when Ramattra turned to face him. The swirling discord that followed was familiar as it was loud, hitting him like a bus even with fifty meters or more between them. Or maybe he was still just that attuned to Ramattra's energy after all these years. He’d once been able to pick him out of a crowd of thousands. Without considering that he he towered over the average omnic.
Ramattra glanced off towards the thick of the fight, and Zenyatta could see him hesitating. But instead of going after them, instead of furthering his goals and finishing his mission, he turned on his heel and sprinted towards Zenyatta.
Zenyatta did not move.
He was silent as Ramattra approached, and likewise Ramattra did not say a word. Instead he chose to simply drop to his knees once close enough and throw his arms around Zenyatta's waist. Surprise did not stop the instinct to return the embrace as well as he could from his position, arms wrapped around his shoulders and head resting on top of Ramattra’s own.
Floating as he was, he suddenly found himself taller than Ramattra, and it was wholly disorienting.
In the end it was Zenyatta who spoke first; he feared if he did not, neither of them would say a word, and this whole arrangement would have been for nought. "It's alright."
And that opened the floodgates. Ramattra took hold of both his hands and looked up at him, furious panic radiating from every strut. "No, it isn't. What are you doing here? A battlefield is no place for you. What if my drones had hit you? What if I had hit you? How long have you been here? What were you thinking?"
Always full of inquiries, wasn’t he? Though, usually they were not so hostile.
"I am here to aid my teammates," he said, and Ramattra lifted his head from Zenyatta's lap long enough to glance in the general direction of where the rest of Overwatch was currently decimating his troops. As Zenyatta followed his gaze as best he could considering they were still around a corner and out of sight, he heard raucous shouting and saw the flash of green light that indicated Genji’s Dragon. They would finish the fight eventually, and Zenyatta would either have to leave or have some serious explaining to do. But for now, he had Ramattra in his arms, and that had his attention on lock-down. "Yes, those teammates."
"So you have sided against me," Ramattra mused.
"Hardly so dramatic." He cupped a hand around Ramattra's jaw, forcing him to look up and meet his optics. "I did not think of you at all."
To anyone else, it would have been taken as offensive, but Ramattra was not so easily confused by the surface level interpretation of his words. Instead he just nodded in understanding and returned his head to its place tucked against Zenyatta's side. It had to be an uncomfortable position, kneeling as he was and propped up only by the force behind Zenyatta's levitation, but he wasn’t even trying to readjust. "I suppose you couldn't have. I'd gone somewhat off the grid until rather recently. Did you know what had become of me?”
“I was aware, yes. Mondatta informed me after you had him kidnapped.”
“Right. That.” Ramattra’s voice was flat. Dull. “Of course, you have every reason to be angry with me. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
“I am not angry with you.”
“You... Hm. Truly?”
“No. I am, perhaps, the slightest bit annoyed that you haven’t tried to reach me at all in these years you’ve been in hiding. I am disappointed that you have strayed this far. I am sad to see you have lost yourself to your anger and grief so thoroughly. I long for simpler times, when you did not have the weight of the world and our people resting on your shoulders. But I am not angry.” He leaned down to press his array against Ramattra’s. “I could never be angry with you.”
Ramattra snorted a static-ridden laugh. “I can think of several occasions which contradict that.”
“You make a good point.” They had spent a lot of time in the monastery together. It was true enough that Zenyatta had been mad at him before. But never in a situation as serious as this one. “Allow me to correct myself; I could never be angry with you for trying to help our people. Much as I may disagree with your methods, I know your intentions are good.”
“...You have too much faith in me, brother.”
“Perhaps you do not have enough faith in yourself.”
"Optimistic as ever." Ramattra exhaled a heavy ventilation, pressing one of Zenyatta's hands against his jaw. "I have missed you more than I can put into words."
"And I have missed you as well. Not a day went by that I was not aware of your absence." A slight exaggeration, but one that was not made without reason. Ramattra had claimed a dedicated section of his processor since his departure. Just not one that was permanently in the bounds of his conscious thought. In the decade or so since they’d last crossed paths, there had been times when Zenyatta’s mind had been otherwise occupied. He’d lived a whole other life, after all.
“I doubt that is the case, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
...Drat. He’d forgotten Ramattra had always been able to see right through him.
There was a roar in the distance, muffled, but familiar enough that it laid a sinking feeling of dread heavy in Zenyatta's chassis. He knew what that meant. Their time was up.
Either by previous observation or acute hypothesis, Ramattra knew it too, based on the way he frantically grabbed at Zenyatta's arms and tugged him down a bit. Zenyatta went willingly, loosening his hold on the Iris enough that gravity once more sunk its grip into him and brought him to his knees.
"Come with me," Ramattra pleaded. "There is a place for you at my side, brother, if you would only take it."
"I cannot." Regret thickened his voice with heavy static. Not necessarily for his denial-- he couldn’t betray Mondatta’s memory by joining the very organization he had wholeheartedly condemned, no matter how much he longed to accept-- but for Ramattra’s fevered insistence. He’d always considered begging to be beneath him. If he were trying such a tactic now... Zenyatta could only imagine he must be terribly lonely. (Did he have any friends in Null Sector? Or was his only company day in and day out these mindless drones? It would be torture, for an intellectual like him. He thrived on community.) "If I were to suddenly disappear, they would assume the worst, and stop at nothing to recover me. I could not bear to bring that sort of chaos upon you."
"I would fight them all. For you," he said, and Zenyatta could almost picture him with teeth to bare. "I would wage war with the world."
"I would not ask it of you."
"I wish you would.” It was said in a sullen mutter. Zenyatta just leaned forward to tuck his faceplate against the crook of Ramattra's neck cabling in an attempt to ease his gloom. "It would make things so much simpler."
"Neither of us have ever been inclined to take the easy way, brother. Otherwise I expect that both of our situations would be vastly different."
"I suppose you are right." Ramattra released him enough to push himself to his feet and step back, though he still grasped Zenyatta's arm to hold him in place long enough to be testing their luck. He really didn’t want to have to explain this to the entirety of Overwatch. Open-minded as they might have become. "I will find you again. No matter what I must do."
It might have been a threat coming from anyone else, but from Ramattra, it only served to send a fluttery feeling through Zenyatta's struts. "It would disappoint me if you didn’t."
Ramattra glanced in the direction of Zenyatta’s soon-to-be no-longer-distracted teammates. Then shook his head in disbelief. “Overwatch. Really, brother? Of all the people I would have expected you to find yourself in the company of, I must admit, they were not high on my list.”
“I am here at the behest of a student,” he admitted. “He has friends within their ranks. I have little investment in the organization as a whole.”
“So it once again boils down to your belief in the individual.”
“That is my driving ideology,” he said, then paused for effect, even though he knew they really didn’t have time for his dramatics. “It is also what drove me to eventually split away from the Shambali to travel my own path.”
“...You know, if you had done that years prior, we could have avoided so much trouble.”
“Or trouble would have found us anyway. As it is often prone to doing.” He pulled one arm away from Ramattra’s grip, moving the other to briefly tangle their digits together before letting go of that one too. “You should go. This battle is over-- my student is quite powerful, and I expect he will have decimated your forces while you were otherwise distracted. I would not want you to get caught simply because you stopped to talk to me.”
A huffed ventilation, what equated to a dry laugh from Ramattra. “Were you anyone else, I would accuse you of manipulating me for the sake of winning a fight.”
“You know I would never resort to such tactics. Not with you.”
“And not for the sake of an organization you care little about. That is why I’m well aware I can still trust you.” He dipped his head, stepping back and summoning his staff to his hands in a flicker of energy. “Be well, brother. I will see you again soon.”
It took more effort than Zenyatta would’ve liked to keep his hands folded in his lap as Ramattra made his escape. Though the urge to reach out was quickly quashed when there was a shout of his name from nearby, and he quickly righted himself back to his usual aloft position. Just in time for Genji to peer around the corner cautiously. When he saw Zenyatta was alone, his tense posture eased.
“I was hoping he was already gone,” his student whispered conspiratorially. “I could not stop them from following.”
“It’s alright,” Zenyatta assured him. As a few of their companions followed shortly behind, he raised his voice a bit; “I was able to avoid detection. I apologize I could not be there to aid you-- I didn’t want to risk leaving my covered position in case you had missed one of the drones. Not that I doubt your abilities. Is everyone alright?”
“Angela and Brigitte were able to keep us in perfect shape,” Lena said, cheerful as ever. “Appreciate the help with the drones, though! Thank you, Tekhartha.”
“Of course. I am always glad to be of aid.”
While the trip back to the jet (and subsequently back to their base of operations) were not exactly celebratory, if only because everyone present was well aware that a battle won said nothing about the state of the war, it was far more jovial than on the instances Zenyatta could remember that they had earned casualties during a fight. High energy lingered around the team like butterflies, though Zenyatta was hesitant to indulge in it. Instead he kept to his usual spot away from where the rest of their team was gathered. Genji sat with him, though he could see the way his student’s visor flickered to his friends' chatter every few moments.
“You are free to join them,” Zenyatta said, clearly amused. “You should not feel obligated to keep me company if you would rather otherwise.”
“I’m fine, Master,” Genji replied. “I think you need me now more than them.”
Any other time Zenyatta might have denied it, but now... Well, Genji was right. He had to commend his student’s ability to see past his tranquil exterior. He’d been planning to find a way to cross paths with Ramattra, but preexisting intentions did not make the actual encounter any less unsettling , for lack of a better term. Not so much in the sense that it frightened him, but in a way that had his processor spinning, priority trees splintering off into nothing, lines of code writing and rewriting themselves before he could even catch a glimpse of them.
“I am grateful for your presence, Genji.” He should have made that clear long before now, but there was no time like the present, he supposed. “Both due to this day’s events and many others. Thank you for choosing to return to me.”
Genji gave him a look out of the corner of his visor. “Thank you for choosing to join me when I asked. You didn’t have to, and I know you don’t like fighting, as much as you’re willing to do it.”
“Sometimes violence is the only language people will understand.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“It is harder and harder not to, as the world continues to grow more cruel,” Zenyatta admitted. Just because he wasn’t willing to join Ramattra’s crusade did not mean he wasn’t still mourning the constant losses felt by their people. “I have not lost my way. But I can see with more ease than ever how others might have.”
“It will do you no good to dwell on such things, Master. You cannot change the past.”
“But I can influence the future.”
Genji turned to face him properly at that. “You also cannot change other people. Do not let yourself get caught up so much in their lives that you forget your own.”
“And so the student becomes the teacher,” Zenyatta said, bemused, and held up a hand as Genji tried to interrupt him. No doubt to get on his case about trying to change the subject. “I understand what you are saying, Genji. However, it would do you well to understand that my life is tied to Ramattra’s. We walk different paths, yes, but the point stands that there is not a single being on this Earth who knows me better than him. And unless many things have changed in the years that have passed, I expect that the reverse likewise remains true.”
His student seemed to wilt a bit at that. Zenyatta might have thought it was some sort of grief that he still held Ramattra in such high regard despite their years of distance and the years Zenyatta had spent at Genji’s side, but his next words clarified; “I do understand. Once upon a time, Hanzo and myself were of a similar closeness.”
Okay, no, scratch his earlier thinking, he needed to clear the air. “You should... be aware that Ramattra is not my brother in the same capacity as the relationship you share with Hanzo. It is more of a term of respect.”
Despite the tinted visor and solid steel covering his face, Zenyatta could simply feel the dry expression on Genji’s face. “I had gathered that. I did spend time among the Shambali same as you, Master. I am well aware that whatever is going on between you two is far different than anything resembling the sort of traditional family dynamics that humans have.”
“You don’t need to phrase it like that.”
“How else would you have me put it?”
“Well, it doesn’t need to sound so provocative.”
“You are the one who refuses to put a precise name on what the two of you are,” Genji replied, clearly having the time of his life with this. “Maybe when you two stop needing to have secret meetings in the middle of an active battlefield, I will stop referring to it as such.”
“Cruel student,” Zenyatta muttered, to which Genji just cackled loudly. It was enough to draw the attention of their teammates for a few moments. “You are doing this on purpose.”
“I am. Part of it is because you have had a great many opportunities to make me feel like a fool over the years, and I am simply returning the favor. However, I am also trying to lighten your spirits. I can tell you are in turmoil, Master. I know you would not thank me for holding a grudge against Ramattra for bringing you discord, so instead I am redirecting my desire to help you into lifting your mood.”
Pride surged through Zenyatta all at once, and he set a hand on Genji’s shoulder. “ Excellent emotional mindfulness, Genji. The progress you have made is wondrous to behold.”
Genji hunched his shoulders, clearly embarrassed. “It’s not that serious, Zenyatta.”
“Oh, but it is. Years ago you wouldn’t have hesitated for a moment before turning to negativity in an attempt to ease my unrest. Now, you are able to recognize when a situation calls for a positive attempt at redirection. You have made incredible strides, and I am very proud of you.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Perhaps,” Zenyatta mused. “And on that topic, perhaps it would do us well to think back on your lessons. We will meditate together tonight.”
With an exaggerated groan, Genji dropped his head against the wall behind them with a dull clang. “Just because I can appreciate the benefits of meditation sometimes doesn’t mean I actually enjoy it like you do. Master, do you actually think we need to rehash my teachings, or are you just trying to get back at me for making fun of you?”
“There are no coincidences. Merely the illusion of coincidence.”
“Don’t try to turn this into another lesson!! You are insufferable.”
To Genji’s credit, his spirits were feeling far lighter than they were before his student had intervened. There was still a twinge of discord clinging to him, but after today, he thought it was plenty justified. True peace was not the absence of turmoil, but rather the ability to recognize it and meet it head on without sacrificing one’s well being. No life was without troubles. That was simply the nature of life itself. To expect a future free of any stress at all would be expecting an impossibility.
And in all honesty, it was only halfway an attempt to retaliate against Genji for his teasing. He missed spending time with his student away from the rolling storm that was the combined presence of their teammates. Not that they weren’t perfectly lovely people, but they were all so different, and together their energy was a maelstrom that one risked getting lost in if they weren’t careful.
When he was with them, Genji had a tendency to get swept up in it, and his own spark only served to increase the chaos.
On his own, though, Genji’s energy was far more subtle. Like a cold snap, a rush of icy water, quiet and clear yet bracing and sharp. Zenyatta always felt refreshed after spending time in his student’s company. And he could do with a little bit of clarity right now.
It was nice to meditate beside his brightest pupil again. And at the end of the night, he felt lighter than before as Genji departed to return to his own room and rest.
Even the voice that sounded from behind him the precise moment he closed the door wasn’t enough to spoil his good mood.
“Finally,” it said. “I thought he’d never leave.”
Zenyatta mimed taking a deep breath. He wasn’t even close to being at risk of losing his temper, but he would readily admit that whatever vexations might have decided to make themselves known were really his own fault. He should have seen this coming.
“When you said that you would see me again soon, I did not expect you to mean this soon,” Zenyatta said dryly, very pointedly not looking towards the window he knew Ramattra was likely leaning in through. “I’m sure your presence means you’re confident in your ability to avoid detection, but I must remind you that Overwatch is aware of what you look like, and who you are allied to. They will not take kindly to your intrusion.”
“Are you going to turn me in?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“I do,” Ramattra replied, and there was a barely audible thud (it was a good thing their windows could open, or Ramattra might've needed to break it to get inside), followed by soft footsteps and a pair of arms around Zenyatta’s shoulders. “And that is why I am here. Besides, even if they know my appearance, I don’t believe they’re fully informed as to what my place within Null Sector is. For all they’re aware I could be some low-ranking field operative.”
“I doubt that is their assumption.” Despite his grim tone, Zenyatta still leaned back into the embrace with ease. It was hard not to, when it brought him so much comfort, subconscious or not. “At least one of them was present for the Crisis, you know. They’re aware of your model’s history. And they know war well enough to believe that no intelligent general would assign someone like you to such an unimportant position. All that assuming they haven’t once caught wind of your standing invitations. They may not know how to translate omnicode, but they can recognize patterns when they see them.”
“Many excellent points. You’ve become quite the strategist over the years, brother.”
“It’s been a long time since you were able to outwit me,” Zenyatta reminded him. “Applying logic to a field of war is not so different from the games we would play.”
“You always did beat me at chess,” Ramattra mused.
“Because you would sacrifice too many pieces and I would win simply by outlasting you.”
“Well, it will bring you comfort to know that I can’t really employ that strategy in this situation, because I don’t have anyone to sacrifice anymore. And no, the drones don’t count, they aren’t sentient. Trust me, I have checked. And while I would welcome them with open arms if they gained it, for now, their mindlessness suits my needs just fine.”
The... concerning implications of that statement aside, Zenyatta’s processor was caught on the first part of it. “What do you mean, you don’t have anyone?”
“Come now, Zenyatta, you’re clever enough. I don’t have any generals to assign anything. I have no pieces to sacrifice. I did, once upon a time, but it turns out that real life is far different from a game of chess, and losing real people is infinitely more painful than pieces on a board.” His tone was somewhere in the realm of dry humor, but with their close proximity Zenyatta could all-but-literally feel the grief coiling in his soul.
He really didn’t have any friends, then.
“I am sorry,” Zenyatta said quietly. “I did not know.”
“How could you? The public eye never knew, considering they died during the incident at King’s Row. And it’s not as though we’ve been keeping in close contact since I left.” Ramattra’s arms tightened around him, and a moment later Zenyatta felt the seam in his faceplate pressing against the cabling of his neck. “I am sorry for that. I feel as though I’ve done you a disservice by leaving you to face the world by yourself all these years, especially considering... more recent events. I never meant to make you feel as though I didn’t care for you.”
Zenyatta wasn’t actually that upset with him about it, but he was kind of curious. “What did you mean by it, then?”
“I figured you would want space. I assumed that you would be displeased with my choice to depart, and so I gave you time to come to terms with it. I... perhaps foolishly, believed you would reach out once you were no longer upset. When you never did, it led me to conclude you did not wish to speak with me.”
“Oh,” Zenyatta said, “how amusing. I did not reach out after you left because I believed you were angry with me for refusing to join you, and that you would seek to connect once you had time to clear your mind.”
“So we are both fools, then?”
“It would seem.”
“The irony is not lost on me, I assure you. I feel as though we’re making a trend out of this,” Ramattra said, and he didn’t sound amused at all. Simply very tired. “Mondatta would be disappointed in the both of us, letting miscommunication cloud our interactions with one another.”
“I expect Mondatta would be disappointed in us for more than just that.”
A harsh scoff. “Yes, I gathered that when he condemned me and my efforts as terrorism on live television.”
“You laid siege to London, brother.”
“King’s Row was... a mistake. I see that now. I grew tired of waiting, and I... acted rashly.” Ramattra knelt down on the floor, and without easing up on his hold around Zenyatta, tugged him to sit on his bent knees. “I have already been punished enough for that misstep. Please, Zenyatta. Not tonight.”
That sounded like the words of someone who wanted to avoid confronting their issues, but fine. Zenyatta would let it slide. He was still riding the somewhat confusing high of seeing him again, and it had him feeling a bit more gracious than usual.
“We will need to discuss it eventually,” Zenyatta said, “but I can give you tonight.”
“Thank you.” Ramattra bowed his head to once more tuck it into the crook of Zenyatta’s neck. He seemed to have a preference for that spot. “I missed you.”
“You mentioned as such.”
“It bears repeating.”
“How did you get here, anyway?” Zenyatta reached up to run his hands through the cabling on Ramattra’s head. One of the wires caught between his fingers, and he glanced up to see the red one that had once been part of his own frame tangled up amongst the rest of the black ones. So he had kept it, then. “I was led to believe this place was difficult to find, even for the most advanced computers.”
“I assume that it is, given I’ve not managed to find it before. Truthfully, I was able to follow your ship long enough that I was able to get within the radius of your energy. Either you’re quite awful at keeping it under wraps, or time has not yet led me to forget what you feel like. I am inclined to believe the latter.”
“I do expect the former has something to do with it as well. But... I am able to sense you as well.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Ramattra’s hands settled on his back and paused there for several moments. “...I do not intend to use my knowledge of this place as a tactical advantage. I recognize the impracticality of it, but I am hoping that this show of trust will make you more inclined to believe me when I say that I mean you no harm. I cannot guarantee the same for your compatriots, particularly when they keep picking fights with my drones, but I can promise that you will never find yourself in danger from me and mine. Since I have no delusions about you agreeing to stay off the battlefield for my own peace of mind, I will do whatever I must to guarantee your safety.”
Zenyatta moved his hands to cup Ramattra’s jaw, tilting his head back to look at him the best he was able. “I believe you. You could never hurt me, brother.”
“It is the fact that you are so wrong which brings me so much worry,” Ramattra murmured. His arms, still wrapped around Zenyatta, tightened just enough that Zenyatta was able to feel the strain the grip put on his struts. “I could hurt you quite easily. And you are so lacking in self-preservation that you would do nothing to defend yourself.”
“I think you have some misconceptions about my capacity for violence,” Zenyatta replied, tone dry. “However, if it may ease your concerns, allow me to rephrase; you would never hurt me. I know you still have some subconscious prejudice regarding your own construction. You were built for war, there is no denying that, and it weighs on you. But you must remember that you are not your creator, and you are not bound by what it intended. You have been given the wonderful gift of having a choice. And I know that you are not a vicious person, brother. Your anger may get the best of you, but you are not blinded by it, and even in your darkest moments I know with absolute certainty that you would never truly do me any harm.”
Ramattra stared at him in silence for several lengthy moments. Perhaps he had gone on a bit of a tangent, but in his opinion, it was worth taking the time to say it all. Something told him it had been quite some time since Ramattra had heard anything like it.
And perhaps Genji was not wrong when he called Zenyatta dramatic.
“The scope of your faith continues to astound me,” Ramattra said softly, barely audible.
“I try to defy expectations wherever I can.”
“Is that why you’re willingly cavorting with the enemy right under your superiors’ noses?”
Zenyatta laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, I’m doing that because I’ve missed you, and I love you.”
Once again Ramattra was struck dumb, and Zenyatta had the feeling that he’d be gaping if his mouth worked like that. As it was, Zenyatta could hear the creaking of his struts as he sat frozen. In his surprise, his embrace had loosened, and Zenyatta took the opportunity to turn around where he sat. Staying in Ramattra’s hold, but wrapping his legs around his waist and finally getting the chance to hug him back properly. He shoved his face against Ramattra’s chest. When Ramattra stayed silent, he glanced up to make sure he hadn’t short-circuited.
“Are you alright? Did you need me to say it again?”
“It bears repeating,” Ramattra echoed his earlier words, though his voice was far weaker than it had been, and cut with a rough layer of static on top. He sounded like he was trying very hard not to cry.
“Very well,” Zenyatta said, all solemn seriousness. “I missed you. I love you.”
Ramattra’s following exhale was harsh, loud, and it could’ve been mistaken for a sob had it come from a human. The mechanical modulation betrayed the trouble he was having keeping his composure. As did the way his shoulders shook as he practically plastered himself against Zenyatta, burying his face in what cabling was exposed by his meager plating.
“You are going to be the death of me,” Ramattra said, falling apart at the seams.
Zenyatta would have smiled if he were able. “No, brother,” he said. “I am going to remind you how to live.”