Chapter Text
“Jesse?”
…
“Jesse McCree can you hear me?!”
…
“Jesse, I swear to God if you’re…you’re…Jesse, please open your eyes!”
Jesse wasn’t sure just how he did it considering he couldn’t even feel any part of his body at the moment, but open his eyes he did. He didn’t even feel his lids move, just that the darkness that had engulfed him moments earlier was slowly disappearing.
A pair of wide, worried eyes the color of chocolate was staring down at him and so close in front of him that it was all he could see. He was sure he could’ve seen the same person’s brows and even their nose too but for some reason, his vision was locked on their eyes. Only their eyes. His peripherals didn’t register anything else.
“Oh, thank God…” The relief was apparent in the other person’s voice. “Stay with me okay? Where does it hurt the most? C-Can you speak?”
Before he could even begin to consider the answers to all these questions, he felt his eyes beginning to feel heavy. Too heavy. He couldn’t keep them open any longer. He tried…really, he did, but he couldn’t.
Once again, his vision went black.
“Jesse? Jesse!!”
That was the last thing he heard. The same person’s worried cries as they repeated Jesse’s name over and over again until his hearing too, finally gave out.
The sun was bright. Even with his eyes closed, he could easily tell through the slight discomfort he felt behind his lids.
Grumbling incoherently, he finally decided to open his eyes only for his vision to be attacked with a lot of white.
He was in the medbay. Of course. How many days did this make? Four now? Four days of being cooped up inside the sterile confines of Angela’s precious prison and his personal hell. It wasn’t like he was ungrateful that he was taken special care of after getting injuries he didn’t even remember getting, but he was sick of it. And he felt like his condition would only worsen should he be forced to stay there any more than he already has.
As if on cue, he heard the metal whooshing of the medbay’s doors and the soft clicking of heels.
Seconds later, the curtain that blocked him off within his corner from the rest of the room was pulled back, revealing the very person he had been itching to talk to.
“Angela!” he greeted brightly before sitting up quickly. Too quickly. He felt a painful throb somewhere at the back of his head as a result but he made sure his pain went unnoticed by keeping his face quite straight. “Good mornin’ to ya.”
Angela looked at him with raised brows and a knowing expression on her face.
“Good morning, Jesse. How are you feeling today?” she inquired in full doctor-mode.
“Same as usual, pretty darn good. Good enough to leave,” he replied, his tone hopeful.
“Jesse…” Her tone was warning.
“Oh c’mon Angel,” Jesse pleaded, deciding to use the old nickname to soften her up. He had given her that nickname back when they were younger, back when he was a 20-year-old upstart who had just joined Overwatch and was quick to flirt with just about anybody including the beautiful young doctor of the Medical Research Team. “I’m all better now and you know it.”
Angela shot him a glare and the frown on her face deepened.
“Four,” she said simply.
This confused him. “Four…days?”
“No,” Angela said with mild irritation. “Four ribs. You had four broken ribs which punctured one of your lungs and your stomach, a fractured right tibia and fibula, and you also had your prosthetic arm nearly completely torn off. And don’t even get me started on your head injury!”
Jesse opened his mouth but then closed it again. True enough, he’s never been injured this badly before. Although reckless with his actions most of the time, he was still quite careful when it came to keeping himself protected, especially ever since he lost his left arm in his earlier years in Overwatch. He couldn’t even imagine what must have happened that had caused him to get into the state that he was in now. Had he been ambushed? Was he rendered temporarily blind and he didn’t see the incoming danger? He didn’t have a clue and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember any of the events, before or after, that led to this not-so-little accident. He had no memories of the mission at all. In fact, the timeline in his head didn’t add up to the mission…or any mission for that matter. He remembered coming to Gibraltar for the Recall then…that was it. His next memory was waking up in the medbay. He knew he had forgotten quite a bit if he didn’t even remember the moment he had been given his assignment that led to his current injury.
He let out a frustrated sigh before laying back down slowly. As usual when he tried to think too hard, the headaches surfaced in full force. According to Angela, when he had woken up once a week ago and she tried to talk to him about the mission that caused his injuries, he had ended up fainting from trying too hard to remember. Jesse couldn’t remember such a thing happening. He only remembered waking up for the first time from his injuries four days ago and that’s it.
Angela too, sighed though hers was less frustrated and more of surrender.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine, you can leave the medbay,” she said and an indulgent smile escaped her lips when she saw the look of absolute delight on Jesse’s face. “Given of course you commit to my instructions.”
“I’ll do whatever you say. Cross my heart and hope to…well, you get the idea,” Jesse said with a grin.
Angela rolled her eyes at him but the smile on her face remained.
DAY 1
Jesse should’ve known.
Trying not to shake his head (it still hurt when he moved it too much) as he walked down the corridor that would take him to the common room, he couldn’t help but repeat Angela’s “instructions” in his mind. It wasn’t a lot but they were all too much.
“No missions, no training, no smoking, no stress, rest often. Do this for two months…sixty days. No missions…no training…no smoking…no stress…rest often…sixty days…sixty days…” he repeated these words over and over again that he was actually starting to get a headache.
Another sigh escaped his lips just as the doors to the common room slid open. The various rec rooms and the private quarters were connected with the common room and were only accessible through here so this was where everyone usually chose to spend their day when they weren’t training or out for missions.
As expected, there were a few who were there. Four, in fact, and all doing their own thing on the many couches, tables and chairs available.
“Jesse!!”
Jesse only had to blink and, in an instant, a young woman stood in front of her, a wide smile on her face before she engulfed him in a hug.
“The doc finally let you out!”
“Good to see you too, kid,” he said with a chuckle and hugged her back.
When they broke apart, Lena looked up at him with an almost sad smile before it was completely overtaken by a happier one that made Jesse think that his eyes must’ve just played a trick on him for a quick second.
“Kid, huh,” she repeated before pointing her thumb behind her. “You won’t be calling me that anymore.”
Jesse followed the direction of her finger and saw two people he didn’t recognize peeking over the back of the couch to look at him. One of them was a dark young man with dread locks, the other a much younger girl—a teenager? —with straight auburn hair and large brown eyes. Her cheeks were painted pink with whisker-like triangles.
“These are…?” he questioned Lena though his eyes were still on the pair as they tossed what looked like portable gaming consoles onto the nearest coffee table before making their way towards him. “Wait, I know you two.”
They looked at Jesse in surprise, then at each other, then at Lena, then at Reinhardt who was seated on one of the singular arm chairs close by (he took his eyes away from the book he was reading to look up at all of them when Jesse spoke—he was less surprised by Jesse’s appearance having visited him at the medbay the day previous), before turning to look at Jesse again.
“You’re both celebrities,” Jesse said with surprise when he finally realized the pair’s identities. “You’re that DJ from Brazil. I’ve seen your posters nearly every place I went to,” he told the young man before turning to the girl. “And you’re that actress…seen a couple’a movie posters of you and some for some kinda soda too.”
The two stared at Jesse for a while…until one of them busted out laughing.
“The name’s Lúcio Correia dos Santos,” the young man introduced with a hand forward to Jesse who accepted it with a shake. “This girl here is Hana Song.”
Next to him, Hana rolled her eyes and gave Jesse a little wave and a smile which didn’t completely reach her eyes. Inwardly he wondered if he had offended her. Then again, he wasn’t the type who knew how to get along with those much younger than him…especially not with teenage girls. He was a little out of his element where Hana was concerned.
“Overwatch newbies recruited by Winston,” Lena explained simply when Jesse met her eyes. His confusion must’ve shown on his face seeing as she answered without so much as a word from him.
“Right,” he mumbled, quite amused by it all.
His last memory before he woke up (apparently fatally wounded) was of his first day in Gibraltar since answering Winston’s message about the Recall but Angela had told him that he had been asleep in the medbay, recuperating, for nearly a month. Twenty-five days, in fact. Add that to however many days he spent on the mission that got him injured in the first place plus the four days he spent there after waking up meant that he’s been out of the loop for around twenty-nine days total, give or take. More or less a full month.
That’s a long time and apparently enough time for the team to move forward enough to recruit more agents.
“Well, nice to meet’cha both,” he said with his usual smile. “Name’s McCree. Would’a come out earlier to say my hellos but apparently I’ve been out cold for a while.”
“It’s cool man,” said Lúcio with a nudge at Hana.
The girl had lost what little smile she had when Jesse pointed to his own head as he spoke.
He didn’t have any of his usual bandages around his torso and leg (not like anyone would be able to see it through his clothes if he did) and his prosthetic has since been fixed (and even upgraded) by Winston and reattached by Angela. The only thing that gave away that Jesse might have been incapacitated is the bandage around his head that kept the gauze on his wound in place. Angela had told him that she had to shave around the wound to properly treat it so he expected he might have a bald patch there for a while so he decided it was probably better to keep the bandage on until he can figure out how to best wear his hair.
“Yeah, it’s totally fine. No worries,” said Hana with a rather forced look of indifference before she turned around abruptly and made her way back to her spot on the couch but only after making a grab for her console. “I’m about to hit the next level, Lú!” she announced loudly without bothering to tear her eyes away from her game.
“Wait, what? Hold up!”
Jesse watched with mild amusement as Lúcio dashed back to his own console and settled back down next to Hana. He was immersed in the game not long after that.
“You’ll get used to it,” Lena said with brows raised. She too was looking over at the pair, particularly at Hana.
“Get used to what?”
“Hana. She’s young and… fickle. But she’s a good girl.”
“What happened to you? You’re talkin’ like an old woman.” This earned him a smack on the arm from Lena.
Although he was only teasing, Jesse was actually wondering if something really had happened. Though Lena was as kind as she usually was, she lost a bit of her peppiness somehow. He was used to her being more hyper…and loud. In fact, the same could be said about Reinhardt who had since refocused his attention on the book he was reading. Seeing him just sitting there, all quiet, was a little unnerving. If it was his usual self, he would’ve been the first to greet Jesse a “Welcome back!” after being hospitalized for so long, even if he had seen the man recently when he came to the medbay to visit.
Was it his fault? Did he do something during the mission perhaps? What was going on?
DAY 2
Jesse woke up early that morning…too early. So early it was that there wasn’t even any morning sunlight filtering through the one window of his room.
He got up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes though really, he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.
The bed.
Sitting on the edge of his cot, he gave a little bounce. He thought this the previous night when he tried to get to sleep (which took a lot of effort with him turning left and right until he finally passed out what felt like too many hours later); the mattress wasn’t comfy at all. If was soft enough, sure, but it felt too alien to him. Then again, he did spend weeks sleeping in the medbay and before that he’s only ever been on this bed just once or twice after the Recall, of course it would feel unfamiliar. And it wasn’t just the bed. His entire room felt off to him too.
He glanced over at where Peacekeeper was sitting. She was sitting on the shelf within reach of his bed and beside her was his old Stetson. His serape was carefully draped over the chair set in front of his computer desk over in the opposite corner. His belts hung from one of the hooks next to the bathroom door. His boots, neatly set aside on the little floor space by the main door. He didn’t check but his chaps and jeans were most likely neatly folded inside one of the drawers.
Whoever had put away his things were careful to make sure they were in order. Angela’s handiwork, he guessed. Jesse had never been the overly “neat” type. He couldn’t even remember the last time he properly set aside his shoes. Usually he just left them as they were after taking them off. What’s the point? He was going to wear them the very next day anyway. Although he often wore “regular” clothes (a shirt with sweats or joggers), he trained everyday and whenever he did he always made sure to wear his usual clothes that he wore on missions.
Jesse got off his bed and stretched his arms over his head. The sun was starting to rise now. How long had he been sitting there just thinking to himself?
He took one more look at the mattress behind him and then the rest of his room.
With a shake of his head, he headed to the bathroom. He needed a shower.
DAY 3
There was a lot going on. So much so that Jesse was actually struggling to keep up with it all. There’s too much. Too much information. Too much surprises.
No sooner after meeting Lúcio and Hana, Jesse had met three more people he didn’t recognize later that same day which came in the form of a climatologist and former Overwatch agent, Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou, a former Vishkar architect by the name of Satya Vaswani and an outdated omnic, a bastion unit by the name of…well, Bastion. They were nice enough, especially the doctor who had a very cheery disposition despite what she had gone through in Antarctica before coming to Gibraltar. Besides Mei, Jesse also liked the omnic, more so than he did the architect which was a little ironic considering Bastion couldn’t even form any real words in any language a normal human could understand. Satya wasn’t bad, just that she was the type he didn’t really work well with. Serious, practical, and liked to have control and order in most (if not all) aspects of their life as much as possible. Jesse embodied the very opposite of all those things (and more) so it was only natural for him to feel that they might not get along as well as he would have with others.
But it wasn’t Mei, Bastion or Satya that has gotten Jesse quite overwhelmed in the last few days, no. It wasn’t the new faces but rather the old. The old which he had thought dead.
It was one thing when he found out that Fareeha Amari, his little sister not by blood (but may as well be considering how close they’ve always been), had also joined Overwatch while he was out cold, but to learn that her mother and one of Jesse’s mentors was alive and not only that but was also back in Overwatch…well, that’s when Jesse gave up trying to feel some sense of understanding over what was happening around him.
Add the also-just-as-alive former Strike-Commander, Jack Morrison who had apparently returned to Overwatch together with Ana to the mix and Jesse was all but forced to return to his private quarters after asking for a little time by himself so he can digest all the news that had just been thrown his way.
Yes, there was definitely a lot to take in.
To make matters worse? He has lost his favorite flannel. When he returned to his room the first day and didn’t find it in his closet or in any of his drawers, he figured it must be in the wash and that someone will come by with it eventually. But two days had passed and still no sight of the slightly faded red piece of clothing. Instead, he found an old video game cartridge that read “Pokémon Yellow” on the worn-out label on the floor between his computer desk and the wall, as well as a ribbon tucked underneath the head of his mattress that—like the game—didn’t belong to him. He figured Hana must have been using his room while he was away as a kind of hide-out.
Sure, the loss of an old shirt was of little consequence but he at least wanted something familiar to hold on to. Though he wasn’t one for complete control over matters around him like Satya to him seemed to be, he still wanted some control at least, especially now when everything around him just seemed too surreal from the new celebrity agents to the old back-from-the-dead ones.
From the flow of things, he’ll never know. He might even get news that his other mentor besides Ana, Gabriel Reyes, the former Blackwatch commander and Jesse’s saving grace, was actually alive too.
“That’ll definitely be somethin’,” Jesse muttered as he finally got up from his bed.
He figured he had excused himself for too long. If he stayed out of sight for too long and after making the exit he had earlier, Angela might come in and force him back to the medbay, deeming him incapable of handling the world outside her four too-white, sterile walls.
“Hana and Lúcio…Mei, Bastion and Satya…Fareeha, Ana and Jack,” he mumbled the names under his breath as he proceeded to exit his room.
It wasn’t a habit (yet) but he’s taken to listing his own thoughts and saying them out loud in repeat. Jesse couldn’t recall a time when he did this at all since it wasn’t like him to do such a thing but he did find that it helped him to a degree. It helped with the headaches at least. Whenever he thought too much about anything, his head would act up. But saying his thoughts aloud delayed this effect somewhat. It didn’t necessarily keep the aches from happening but at least it bought him more time before he was forced to give up thinking entirely.
“Hana…Lúcio…Mei…Bastion…Satya…Fareeha…Ana…Jack…” Jesse shook his head a little. A deeper part of his brain was telling him he forgot something or…someone? He wasn’t exactly sure. But even simply considering the fact that something was missing was starting to make his head hurt again. He shook his head a little and let out a sigh before repeating the names in his head once more.
DAY 6
“Oh, uhh…howdy.”
His words came out awkwardly. But in his defense, he didn’t expect anyone to be in there at this time of day. It was nearly midnight.
The man seated at one of the smaller tables in the kitchen looked up when he spoke. Judging by his startled expression, Jesse had interrupted him from whatever thoughts preoccupied him as he sat there with a steaming mug in his hands.
Looking at Jesse, he gave a kind of jerky nod of greeting. “Hello.”
“The name’s Jesse McCree. I don’t think we’ve met before?”
Jesse looked at him closely. Brown eyes, thick eyebrows that fanned slightly in the corners, long nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw, trim beard, and hair long enough that he could tie it at the back of his head with what looked to be a long red cord with small golden balls at the ends. He was wearing some kind of robe, fitted over both shoulders which revealed fair skin and nicely toned pecs in a V down the middle. It was all tied in place at the waist by a thick sash then connected with loose-fitting pants which was tucked at the knees with—leg armor? Or were those prosthetics?
The other man continued to look at him for a while, apparently appraising Jesse as he was doing with him before finally shaking his head in answer to his question.
“No, we have not. Hanzo Shimada,” he said with another nod though this time, more fluid and courteous.
“Shimada? You Genji’s family?”
“He is my brother, yes. He invited me into Overwatch a little while ago.”
Brother…
Jesse knew all about Genji’s brother of course. As did everyone else who knew Genji when he initially joined Overwatch years back. He was the guy who cut his brother down and nearly killed him. Would have killed him if it weren’t for Overwatch’s timely arrival and Angela’s aid.
But he was here now. This Hanzo Shimada.
Taking a good look at him, Jesse figured Genji would’ve looked somewhat like him, if not completely alike, had he never been attacked by this man. Whole and—dare Jesse admit it—quite, no, very gorgeous. Genji had more than once told Jesse of his earlier exploits when he was younger. Well, if he looked anything like his older brother, it was even less difficult to imagine now. The cyborg had told him he had been something like a player, especially in his teenage years. Not unlike Jesse, in fact. This was one of the few things they had in common which had initially brought them together as friends back when Genji first joined the organization. Back when he was unstable, angry, and susceptible to lashing out and breaking down.
Jesse tried to clear his head of the morose thoughts. It has been years since he last saw Genji loose control due to his anger and pain from what happened with his brother. He has recovered a great deal since then. And said-brother was even here now, in Overwatch. It wasn’t Jesse’s place to judge Hanzo when it was apparent that Genji has forgiven him enough to invite him into the team.
“Right,” he eventually said with a few nods of his head. He was doing it without thinking, really, as he headed over to the counter where the coffee machine was.
In silence, he pulled out one of the clean mugs from a cabinet overhead and set about with his business. He listened closely for Hanzo in case the man decided to take his drink elsewhere but he didn’t, a few glances behind him showed that the older Shimada was still there, face still thoughtful and taking a few sips of his drink from time to time. Jesse saw the string that was hanging over the lip of the mug and figured out that what he was drinking was tea. So far, Jesse thought he was just like Genji. He spoke quite properly and he was into tea.
A low beeping tore Jesse’s attention from Hanzo and Jesse made quick work of pouring himself a cup of coffee. After a few blows over the dark surface of the liquid, he brought the mug to his lips, tipped it, and sighed with unadulterated satisfaction when the warm liquid slid down his throat.
“Should you be taking in so much caffeine at this time of night? You will have trouble sleeping.”
This comment took him by surprise. Although they only met a few minutes ago, Jesse wouldn’t have pegged Hanzo to be the type who engaged in idle chit-chat. He didn’t look it at all. In fact, the aura he’s been giving off since Jesse entered the dining hall-slash-kitchen was quite similar to that of Satya’s. He was actually pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong.
Leaning against the counter by the hip, Jesse turned around to look at him to find the man already looking at him with brows slightly raised.
“I’m already havin’ trouble sleepin’, darlin’,” he said with a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Is it…is it your head injury?” Hanzo inquired, his voice noticeably hesitant.
“Even you know about that, huh?” Jesse was quite sheepish now and he unconsciously scratched the back of his head. He felt the small bald patch hidden under his hair, and the elevated line of skin there from where his stitches used to be.
“Everyone does…”
These words came out of Hanzo in a mumble but Jesse still heard it and he let out a little laugh in response before pushing himself off the counter to sit at the same table where Hanzo was.
“So, what do you do Hanzo? You don’t mind if I call you that, yeah? Considerin’ you and Genji have the same surname. It kinda feels weird if I call you ‘Shimada’.”
“It is fine. And what do you mean what do I do?”
“Well, ya joined Overwatch. Everyone who’s in this ragtag group is at least real good at somethin’ or another.”
“A variety of things. Archery, mostly.”
“Archery? Like, a bow and arrow…that kinda thing?”
The corner of Hanzo’s lips quirked up momentarily that Jesse thought he was either irritated or ready to laugh. Somehow, he wasn’t sure.
“Yes, that ‘kinda thing’,” Hanzo imitated with a slight roll to his eyes. He probably took offense to the incredulity in Jesse’s voice when he asked the question but he didn’t look too bothered by it. He was smiling at any rate.
He figured he might have been a little too callous in his manner of speaking. But it shouldn’t have been too surprising. It was an age of guns (not even regular guns but modified ones, like Peacekeeper), rockets, and lasers. Even one of their newest agents piloted a mecha—a thought that stunned him as it did amaze him (and still yet to believe until he saw it for himself).
To bring a bow and arrow to a fight of all things. Jesse can’t really see it doing much damage on the field.
DAY 7
“I’m tellin’ ya, it was one helluva sight! Really impressive.”
Genji, who was seated next to him with his visor off, turned to him with amusement written plainly across his face.
“I already know my brother is skilled with a bow and arrow, Jesse.”
“Yes, but I didn’t. Don’t even know anyone who could use a bow and arrow. And to be shown somethin’ like that…” he trailed away and let out a low and impressed whistle.
Earlier that afternoon, Jesse had wandered over to the target range to watch the other agents train. He couldn’t do it himself so he instead settled with watching others practice. When Angela had told him that he wasn’t allowed to train for sixty days, he gave up going to the training rooms altogether. But after speaking with Hanzo the previous night, he got curious enough to drag himself there in hopes of catching the archer doing his thing.
And catch him he did.
He was already in the training room watching Jack and Lena shooting moving targets in separate areas when Hanzo showed up, bow and quiver of arrows in hand. He was wearing a similar outfit from the previous night though in a different color and one side of his robe was tucked into his sash-like belt—he told him last night it was called an obi—revealing a rather large tattoo that ran from the left side of his chest all the way down to his wrist.
Jesse didn’t even expect him to be inked, let alone have anything that beautifully extensive so this surprised him…though not as much as his own thoughts when he decided it really looked good on him and suited him well.
When Hanzo caught his eye, they exchanged nods of greeting but didn’t say anything. Jesse stayed where he was on a chair at the back of the room while Hanzo carried on to the farthest open area of the range apparently so as not to disturb the other two who were already engrossed with their own training.
Hanzo spent a full hour training and shooting targets from mobile to immobile ones and Jesse stayed the entire time, only leaving when the archer made to leave as well. His eyes were trained on Hanzo’s side of the room the entire time that he didn’t even notice when Jack and Lena had left.
“What kind of shit was that?!” were the only words he could say to Hanzo at the time when they left the training room and this reaction was only met with laughter, bringing about a twinkle in the archer’s eyes as the pair of them talked on their way back to the common room where they finally separated after Hanzo announced that he needed to shower.
“So I take it you and Hanzo are getting along?”
Jesse blinked away from his cliff-side view of the Gibraltar Strait below them to turn to Genji who was still looking at him with curiosity.
“Yeah, I think so. Your brother’s actually quite easy to talk to. Thought he’d be the serious type…I mean, he does look it after all. But yeah, I like him.”
Genji gave a sort of noncommittal sound at this and Jesse saw that he was smiling.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just that I am glad that you are still the same foolish you even after the injuries you sustained.”
“Who ya callin’ foolish?!” he demanded and this made Genji laugh out loud.
It was only when Genji’s hilarity died down that Jesse spoke again and this time in a more serious tone quite uncharacteristic of him.
“Speakin’ of my injury. Do you know what happened to me? No one’s tellin’ me nothin’ no matter how much I ask. I figure Angela got to them and told ‘em not to say anythin’. Been meanin’ to ask you since she let me out the medbay but I couldn’t find you. Were you on a mission?”
“Yes. I was sent out with my master and my brother. We were in Central America for over a week. We only returned last night,” Genji informed him easily enough.
Jesse waited for him to tell him about his injury but after a whole minute of silence, the cyborg ninja still didn’t speak. He was forced to let out a disappointed sigh. He should’ve known not to get anything from him either. Even Fareeha, his sister, wouldn’t talk to him about it when he tried to weasel the information out of her. Of course, his brother would be the same. If anything, he should’ve expected Genji to be more stubborn about keeping information from him. He was just as close to Angela as he was to Jesse. And when it came to medical advice, Genji was the type to always follow through on the doctor’s instructions. He’s been like this since Angela saved him though for good reason.
“Sorry Jesse. I am not keeping things from you just because Angela asked. I believe it is the same for the others as well. We just want you to recover fully first. After that, I and everyone else will tell you about how you got your injuries and whatever else you want to know. I promise.”
DAY 12
Jesse was quick to spot him the moment the metal doors to the dining hall and kitchen slid open in front of him. He was seated in the same spot he had taken the first time they met there and every night since.
“Howdy,” he greeted with a nod towards Hanzo who nodded back in return.
Today marked a full week since they started this odd routine of theirs. Every night without fail, they would meet up in there shortly before midnight, each with their own drinks and they would talk. Their little meet-ups only ever lasted for roughly half an hour which was the amount of time they took to finish their drinks. Usually it was Hanzo who finished first whether he arrived in the dining hall first or not and when he did, he always left for his quarters with no unnecessary dawdling though Jesse sometimes wished he would especially during times when they were in the middle of interesting points of conversation…like two days ago when Hanzo was telling him about the time Genji dyed his hair green. He had just brought it up but ended that topic right there when he realized his tea had run out and he quickly excused himself even if he had left Jesse hanging in the middle of a particularly embarrassing story about the cyborg during his more rebellious years that he was hoping to use against him one day.
“You look exhausted,” Hanzo said when Jesse took his usual seat across from him at their shared table.
“No more than usual,” Jesse said with a weak smile before taking a sip of his coffee.
The archer let out a disapproving sigh. “I keep telling you not to drink so much coffee this late in the night.”
“And I’m tellin’ you it ain’t the coffee keepin’ me up,” he reminded with a raised brow. “If anythin’, it’s actually helpin' me relax enough to pass out.”
“Then tell me what is bothering you. Maybe I can help?”
Jesse gave him a look.
“And no,” Hanzo continued quickly, already understanding what he was thinking, “I cannot tell you about your accident.”
With a groan, Jesse slid forward and let his forehead bang on the smooth metal surface.
“Do not do that,” came Hanzo’s stern voice which made Jesse turn to look at him, head still on the table.
“Do what?”
“Your head. You were injured in the head and very severely might I add. Do not put any more undue stress on it.”
“I hurt the back of my head, sweetheart. Not the front.”
Hanzo frowned down at him.
“It is still the same head, regardless of which area you injured. It is all connected either way.”
Jesse wanted to argue this point but saw how serious Hanzo looked and decided to keep his mouth shut and simply nodded instead.
Looking appeased, Hanzo let out another sigh before taking a particularly long sip of his tea.
“Was it really that bad?” Jesse asked, his eyes still on the man next to him and he saw him freeze perceptibly at the question.
“What…?” Hanzo asked, feigning ignorance that didn’t fool Jesse at all.
“You know what I mean.”
It took him a moment but eventually Hanzo turned to look at Jesse again, straight in the eye.
“I know everyone knows about my injury except me, Hanzo. Since I got out of the medbay, everyone’s been skirtin' around me like I’m made of glass, ready to break should I learn even a little about how I got hurt. Was it really that bad?” he repeated as he held Hanzo’s gaze with his.
Hanzo continued to stare back at him, unblinking, as if in a trance.
He opened his mouth, a reply apparently at the ready at the tip of his tongue…but then he closed it again and gulped quite audibly before turning away.
“Angela…” he started some minutes later. “Angela said we should not tell—"
“Oh screw what Angela said,” Jesse said, cutting him off and unable to keep down his frustrations any longer.
Twelve days have passed since he was discharged from the medbay. He has all these restrictions on him which basically meant that he couldn’t do anything he did nearly everyday during healthier times. He wouldn’t have minded if he couldn’t train or do missions, if only he could smoke. The same could be said for smoking if only he could at least put Peacekeeper in his hands and shoot something. He needed something to get the edge off but nearly every single thing he thought of wasn’t allowed. He was deprived of the two things that proved to actually relax him and he still had forty-eight days left until he could indulge again.
Well, there was one other thing he could do to relax himself. But he’s been doing that in excess as of late to the point that his skin has been rubbed raw and now he can’t even do that anymore…at least not for a little while until it recovered a little and become fit for use again.
“You don’t have to tell me all the details. But at least give me an image here,” he all but begged. “C’mon Han…please?” he added, hoping the nickname would loosen the man enough to give in.
Jesse didn’t expect the reaction he got from what he just said. He really didn’t. Hanzo had turned his head to look down at him once more but this time his face wasn’t neutral or passive like it usually was…if anything, Jesse thought he looked hurt and angry. He also looked ready to cry.
As soon as he saw this, Jesse sat up straight again, an apology already at the ready but he never got the chance.
Hanzo had gotten up from his seat so fast that Jesse momentarily mistook him for Lena. He watched him take his mug to the sink, drain what was left inside it before stalking out of the hall.
Jesse stared after him for a while, still confused and shocked by what just happened. What made the archer blow? Was it his begging? His insistence that he tell Jesse what he wanted to hear? Was he too pushy? Or was it because he said “Han” as if they were closer than they actually were? They’ve only known each other for a week after all. Jesse wasn’t even sure if it was right for him to label their relationship as something so close as “friendship” when really, he’s only ever talked to him during these short meetings in the night save for that one day in the training room.
“Shit…”
DAY 16
Should he be grateful? Jesse wasn’t sure.
For one thing, Hanzo’s avoidance of Jesse meant that he’s been left to wonder about the archer’s well-being and the state of their relationship. In turn, this meant that Jesse’s obsession about the cause of his injuries was forcefully put on hold and shoved unceremoniously to the back of his head (no pun intended).
For another, he and Hanzo weren’t talking anymore. He didn't particularly like this consequence to what happened between them which made Jesse think that no, he shouldn’t be grateful that Hanzo was avoiding him.
Sure, it meant less headaches for him from his lack of constant attempts at trying to remember the mission that caused his injuries, but he didn’t like losing his maybe-or-maybe-not friend.
“What’s getting you down, cowboy?”
Jesse looked up just as Fareeha plopped down on the couch next to him.
“Hanzo’s avoidin’ me,” he muttered truthfully. No point beating around the bush where Fareeha was concerned. She always found a way to get him to talk whenever she pleased. May as well be upfront about the matter from the get-go.
She raised her brows in reply to this statement before looking momentarily thoughtful.
“Didn’t know you two were super close,” she said, rather carefully too which made Jesse look at her oddly. “I mean, I never even saw you two actually talk and stuff.”
“Oh,” Jesse said with a shrug. “We aren’t that close, I guess. Just that we’ve been talkin’ here and there for a while. But we haven’t in the last three days. In fact, I haven’t even seen him. Even during meals. Is he out on a mission, d’ya know?”
“I wouldn’t think so. I mean, he shouldn’t be put on any other mission for a while since he just got back from the one in Guatemala.”
“Guatemala?”
Fareeha’s eyes widened when Jesse said this and she jerkily nodded her head. “Yes, anyway,” she spoke quickly, apparently keen on changing the subject. “Uhh… let’s see. Right now, Reinhardt, Hana, Jack, Mei, Satya, Lúcio, and mom are all out on a mission. So yeah, Hanzo should be around here somewhere, yeah? Why not go look for him?”
“When did they leave?” Jesse asked, surprised.
The other agents have been in and out of Gibraltar in quick succession. He didn’t know what missions they were on and where exactly they were sent. Normally it was never a secret but they never made a point to talk about it either unless asked—which rarely anyone ever does—or willingly told by those involved. Anyway, even if Jesse did ask for details, he knew he wouldn’t be told a thing. He tried asking Zenyatta some days ago about a mission he and a few others were given and he point-blank told him that not knowing about any of the missions was also a part of Angela’s terms when she put the “No missions” restriction on him. There have been many missions since and he hasn’t bothered to ask about any of them.
Jesse was also surprised by this. It’s only been a month and a couple of weeks since the Recall and yet there were already that many missions on the table that everyone was actually constantly on the move. He assumed that there would be more times where they’d all be stuck on base with not much to do considering the Petras Act was still in effect and the UN along with the rest of the world were keeping an eye out over Overwatch activities. But he was proven wrong. He didn’t know how Winston—the de-facto leader of the current Overwatch; Jack and Ana refused to take the position from him despite their return—was doing it, sending so many agents all across the globe without getting caught yet. But he did and they were doing it without incident so Jesse tried not to think about it anymore than he needed to.
“Two days ago…when you were sulking around the place by yourself,” Fareeha said with a teasing grin.
Jesse looked at her for a moment before catching her in a headlock and mussing up her usually impeccable hair, making her laugh and struggle to get free.
DAY 18
Jesse took a deep breath and exhaled. He did this for a few times before he finally got up from his bed and purposefully strode out of his quarters.
It’s been five days. Five whole days of not seeing or speaking with Hanzo. It was about time he apologized. Not that anything was stopping him. He’s been itching to apologize to the archer since the same day their little disagreement (or whatever you call it) happened. If he lets this day pass without doing anything—and there were only a few minutes left until midnight)—that’ll be six days. The more time he took lolling around and waiting for an opportunity to arise instead of actually making the effort, the more it’ll be harder to face the man should the time even ever come.
He strode over to where he knew Hanzo’s room was (all the rooms were labeled on the electronic plate on the right side of the door, just above where the security panels were) and stopped in front of the metal doors. His feet were planted on the rough, rectangular-shaped, black flooring set in front of every private quarter entrance which functioned as something like a mat to clean the dirt off their boots before entrance as well as to identify respective owners. This proved particularly useful especially when they entered their own rooms. It saved them from having to talk to Athena or to punch in their own codes every time they came in.
To his surprise, however, the metal doors that led into Hanzo’s room opened automatically as soon as Jesse’s feet landed on the mat and his raised knuckles were left hanging over open air.
Although the room was dark, the light that filtered in from the hallway was enough for him to see that the room was exactly the same size and design as his own. Bed carved into the wall on one side, a window directly opposite from the main entrance and a desk below it with a computer on top, a door to the left that led to a bathroom, a closet, a few shelves and drawers. The only difference, perhaps—besides the few Japanese decorative items that sat on the shelves—was the small table in there (which was similar to Jesse’s). It had two chairs pushed against it on opposite sides while Jesse had none at all in his room. Although he personally had no use for them, he made a mental note to ask someone (maybe Winston?) about this disparity.
Jesse’s eyes looked around the room for a while, somewhat entranced by how homey it looked in his eyes. It even felt homey while his own room looked and felt something like a hotel room. Barely slept in and almost suffocating with prolonged use.
Then his gaze finally landed on Hanzo. He was laying on the bed, facing the wall, dressed only in pajama bottoms and…was that his missing flannel?
With quiet footsteps, Jesse walked over towards him and winced when the doors behind him whooshed loudly to a close and the room was once more sent into darkness. But the light inhales and exhales escaping from the archer with every ascent and descent of his form indicated that he was still fast asleep. Jesse was relieved. He and Hanzo still weren’t on good terms and the last thing he wanted was for him to wake up and find him standing there in his room, uninvited, in the middle of the night like some kind of stalker.
He stopped right beside Hanzo and kneeled on the floor next to him.
Truth be told, he didn’t know what he was doing but he had to know if it really was his missing favorite flannel or not. He’s been looking for it this entire time after all.
Grateful for the moonlight (although dim) that illuminated the room through the window, Jesse leaned over Hanzo while tugging on the sleeve of the shirt the tiniest amount.
Hanzo gave a little jolting snort before rolling over onto his back.
Panicking, Jesse pulled away quickly just in time to avoid getting his hand trapped under the man. When he saw Hanzo’s closed eyes, he breathed out in relief before checking on the shirt again. There were at least two things about his shirt that could confirm it to be his. One was the tiny hole located on the left cuff. He had caught the sleeve on a nail in a battered and abandoned old house he lived in for a few weeks while he was trying to keep a low profile in Odessa a while back.
Jesse leaned forward once more and checked on the cuff as much as he could without touching Hanzo. There it was, a small hole close to the opening meant for the cuff button.
The other indicator was the missing top-most button near the collar. He had lost it the very first time he put on the shirt after he got it years ago. It had popped right off after Jesse tried to move around with all the buttons fastened. He didn’t mind though, he never liked closing up all the buttons. It was too constricting around the neck and at the time, he was just trying to see how it looked like worn that way.
His eyes trailed slowly from Hanzo’s wrist to his exposed navel. The archer didn’t button up the flannel and left it completely open and both sides were currently laying in a pool on the bed on either side of his torso, completely exposing his body from the hip up. Jesse stared at Hanzo’s nicely defined abs, noticing a bit of ink peaking from the hem of his pajamas on his right side, right next to the partially exposed V line of his hip. Jesse narrowed his eyes slightly on the tattoo and from the little he could see of it, thought it looked quite similar to the tattoo on his left arm. He thought he was looking at what looked to be a dragon’s snout. Jesse wondered just how far down this tattoo went and guessed that it probably wrapped his entire right leg much like its twin around his arm.
Shaking his head, Jesse resumed his examination of Hanzo’s chest his flannel. His eyes raked back up his torso until it landed on Hanzo’s perfectly chiseled chest. He dipped his head down again, looking closely at his… flannel. Yes, his flannel. He was looking at his flannel.
The collar was covering his view so he had to pull on it a little to reveal the, indeed missing, top-most button.
This was his flannel.
Well, of course it was. Who else on base had a flannel that had that exact design and that exact amount of wear on the fabric to make it look like what it does?
But…why did Hanzo have it? Why was Hanzo wearing it? Did he find it tossed out somewhere in the laundry room and just picked it up and decided to claim it as his own? It was a pretty comfy flannel after all. It fit just slightly loose on Jesse to accommodate his prosthetic arm and it was really soft too. Perfect for lounging around. Or in Hanzo’s case, sleeping.
Hanzo shifted in his sleep and the movement caused his chin to touch the back of Jesse’s hand which was still holding on to the collar.
He held his breath as Hanzo grumbled a little under his breath…and his lids lifted ever so slightly, revealing sleepy and partially glazed-over irises.
They stared at each other and Jesse was wracking his brain for some form of reasonable excuse as to why he was in Hanzo’s room in the dead of night, watching the man sleep.
“Han—”
“Jesse…” the man below him mumbled and he thought he saw a tear escape the corner of his eye. But he couldn’t make sure. As soon as Hanzo had said his name, the archer had reached upwards and had wrapped his arms around Jesse’s neck before pulling him down over him.
Jesse’s eyes widened just as Hanzo’s closed.
Hanzo was kissing him.
Why was Hanzo kissing him?