Missing in Action || McCree x Reader x Hanzo

Chapter Eight: You Are...

"Sit."

His curt demand was soon replaced with a heavy grunt as the older man sits down at his desk. Before him were two chairs and you hesitated a second before choosing a chair to sit down in. The entire room was only lit by his desk lamp.

"Just choose one," Jack growls and you choose the left one. You sit down quickly and have your hands folded in your lap like a child at their first interview.

"How much did you hear?" he asks. You look around the room but it was too dark to really see what was on his shelves. Perhaps it was intentional.

"Enough," you shrug. You tuck a [h/c] strand behind your ear. He sighs and his shoulders slump.

"I hope you did not take it personally," he finally says. You shift in your seat; the cushion is slightly lumpy. You wondered if the other chair was more welcoming to your butt. "You must understand where I was coming from a leader's perspective to protect this dying cause."

You were only half-listening. The chair wasn't comfortable and Jack became quickly annoyed by your wiggling.

"Are we at peace with each other?" he asks. You don't respond. But you stand up and then sit in the other seat. It was exactly the same as the other one but this time, there was a lump on your back that had become quite bothersome.

Jack glares at you as you swap back to the other seat. It was a lot more bearable than the right one and you settle on it.

"What were you saying?" you fold your hands in your lap. Jack's piercing gaze almost makes you falter, but you had been the victim of his glare so many times that it no longer sent a shudder down your spine. Instead, you smile innocently.

"Are we at peace with each other?" he impatiently repeats himself. You tilt your head as if deep in thought.

"I never realized that we had a problem," you finally say. He sighs and leans back. He pulls out a folder from a filing cabinet kept under his desk and smacks the thick file in front of you.

"This," he taps his finger on the Manilla folder which barely contained its contents. "This is exactly why I have a problem with you."

You flip open the file and immediately your smug attitude fell. He frowned at you as your lips lost its malicious curve. Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

The first clipping was one of many newspapers on files documented on you over the course of time.

'OVERWATCH SOLDIER KILLS MANY—WHO IS TRULY SAFE?'

'OVERWATCH'S [L/N] A HUMAN WEAPON?'

'OVERWATCH DISMISSES SOLDIER; "TOO UNPREDICTABLE"!'

Overwatch soldier this, Overwatch soldier that. And your Commander documented it all.

"You disappeared after dozens of people died under your hand," Jack finally spoke. His voice was still hard but a little gentler than before. "I know you wrote in your report you had every reason to suspect them—or perhaps you were possessed—but most of those people were innocent. You come back without a word."

"McCree said you sent him," you spoke hoarsely. You licked your lips with a dry tongue. The attempt to moisturize your mouth was futile.

"McCree was supposed to do a simple recon and not make any attempt to communicate with you," he sighs. "He was the one who found you, after all."