Guys...welcome to the last chapter. Enjoy y'all.
Les go!
"Darn, never thought it would go down like this. I really hoped to see ya again, darlin'."
From the comfort of his cushioned chair, Jesse McCree watched the news that talked about none other than the newest world-wide sensation that was your death. The wide holographic screen he set his brown eyes on was the only thing that lit up his dim and somewhat cluttered room, but the cowboy found that he liked it that way: the whole somber ambience of it all mirrored the tinge of pain and loss he felt inside. After so long he finally felt as though someone was finally sharing his sadness with him, no matter how small the matter it may be.
He didn't really get the chance to know you as well as he'd hoped, but he did remember that you took his advances quite well than most people--the finger guns and the butchering of Japanese words and all. He could tell right then that you were a kind soul, and if Reyes hadn't chewed his ear off when he did, McCree might have stuck around a little longer to actually have something to cry over about your death.
Jesse gazed off into a dark corner of his room, the very blackness of it engulfing his periphery until he found that he was too lazy to correct his vision and continued dazing off in the same direction as one would daydreaming. However all of a sudden, a loud buzz from his intercom interrupted the clipped delivery of the reporter on screen, and soon afterwards an all too familiar gruffness followed that had the cowboy already rising from his seat.
"Jesse, assemble with the others at the hangar quickly. We have a dispatch call from Rialto--might be about Talon. We're heading out in five."
"Yessir," Jesse answered back with a shrug of his draped broad shoulders. He stretched some, fixed the tightness of his belt, and idly scratched at his choppy beard with a gloved hand as he made his way out of his quarters; in his stupor he was completely oblivious to the fact that he had left the news running, going on for a while until such time that it jumped to a new topic, one about hostilities against omnics in America.
The jingle of his spurs notified the entire corridor of his presence and had people turning his way whenever he was near. Gabriel Reyes knew that sound a mile away and was more than ready to rip them off his subordinate's shoes if his conscience would allow it.
"It's about time. Come on let's go." Reyes rolled his eyes, big and heavy strides heading towards the inside of the passenger craft they were assigned to along with the medics and other foot soldiers under Blackwatch.
"What is it this time, boss? Drugs, assassination attempts?"
"I'll brief all of you once you get inside, so hurry your ass up and join the others."
"Is Moira comin'?"
"Is O'Deorain coming a problem for you?"
"Depends," Jesse replied. "I don't know about y'all but I like keepin' my spine where it should be."
"Don't be hysterical, McCree. No one wants that shit."
"You're so much fun, ya know that, boss?"
Rapid winds blew into the wide and dim hangar, beckoning Jesse to grip the hat against his brown locks, not wanting the item to blow away on accident and maybe land thirty feet away from him. He wasn't one to chase things around if there was no necessary value to it, and he chuckled mischievously at the realization that throughout his life, men and women alike were the ones chasing him.
He always was charming, wasn't he?
Once everybody was onboard their assigned aircrafts, the doors sealed shut with a low release of air and the pilots in charge looked over their shoulders to receive the confirmation to finally fly to Rialto. Reyes all but gave them one nod, and the message was spread throughout the entire unit in less than a minute. It got noisier as one by one the small fleet headed out into daylight.
But amidst all of the distractions and the flurry of the actions, McCree's head remained in the clouds that they were fast approaching, and he wondered whether he would meet his end too then and there by being blown up just as he had seen you become on the news only a few minutes ago.
***
Lockdown! Lockdown!
Commander Reyes cursed under his breath as a red wave took over the entirety of the room they were in, which was only a cool shade of gray moments ago. Basked in repeatedly flashing, lurid light the members of Blackwatch coerced themselves to remember the drills and keep calm under this suffocating pressure only heightened by the accompanying sirens wailing from the outside.
"What now?" Moira asked, more annoyed than anything else as she rolled her bright blue and red eyes to the side.
Even McCree was impressed with her lack of concern as much as he was with her eye color; she could be filing her long nails for all he cared and the whole aura would be complete.
"We get out," Reyes simply said, not sparing his subordinates any reassuring looks. "We shoot until we reach the exit. I'm assuming we haven't planted any teleporters by the exit points?"
"No, sir." A subordinate shook his head almost ruefully.
"Someone's gonna get an ear chewed off later--" Reyes immediately turned to the cowboy, "--but as of now, we just gotta get out alive. Now move!"
The team wasted no time and broke off as fast as they could to get away from the glaring red lights and the incessant sirens overhead.
Running along the narrow steel passages of the establishment, Jesse knew it would be soon before the paths branched out into thinner halls and corridors. There'd be windows and doors and vents from which Antonio's reinforcements could come out of and capture them. Time was either with them or against them.
It was only a split second--but McCree saw it. He caught a glimpse of a flowing black blur, and afterwards, the unmistakable thud of a heavy armored body slamming into the ground.
"The heck?" he muttered as he slowed down, trying to ponder on what could have possibly caused such a fall when his team was running in single file, with him at the farthermost part.
A gunshot then rang thrice, there was no mistaking it, and the man was forced to turn against his own will only to find that two more masked men had fallen in the aisle beside him.
But the fallen weren't just any men. They were Talon's.
Someone was destroying the enemy and it wasn't Blackwatch.
"Could it be the rookie? Who was that again? Joshua?"
The cowboy contemplated that perhaps his colleague lost himself in the panic of the evacuation; the red lights mixed in with that annoying siren really were trigger inducing.
Before he realized it, McCree was going after the trail of this mysterious assailant (who could just be Joshua) having nothing to chase by but a wispy shadow and the confidence that he'll meet up with the rest of his team one way or another at the end of the tunnel.
He made no effort in keeping his heavy footsteps quiet, which was why the moment a Talon foot soldier emerged from a room ahead of him, his focus immediately turned to Jesse and not the fleeing intruder.
Two shots killed the bastard, and two more for the one that shortly followed suit. He resumed his haste the very instance his coast was clear, brushing off his standard three second protocol.
There, Jesse gritted his teeth as his target seemingly shot another soldier. However the unnerving sound of wild ruffling signified a struggle, meaning the strange person may have been caught.
Another fire from his west, and McCree was finally able to track down the exact location of the escalating unrest.
Jesse was greeted with the sight of what he could only assume was a murky mess of black and cloth, a person jerking angrily against the chest of a much bigger enemy, begging to be free.
"You one of those Blackwatch too--?"
The man didn't get to finish as his captive released a sharp blow to his side, rendering him immobile for a few seconds, just enough for the captured to break free and run away.
"Why you little-!"
Blam! Blam!
"Sorry, partner." Jesse gritted his teeth down. "That one's mine."
And with that he was off once more, determined to see his goal realized no matter how long it will take.
***
The shadow of his wide brim danced over his keen brown eyes as McCree kept close surveillance on this mystery person, whom without his timely interventions would probably be lying down on a pool of their own blood moments ago.
With the cowboy watching close by, the hooded figure stopped at last, dropping the small pistol to the ground without even a thread of care as though no one else in the base may hear the loud, repeated clang it made against the cold white floors.
Jesse cringed at the volume of it--and he was a few good spaces away in the shadows!
A few more minutes of stillness and quiet and the figure advanced towards a chained fair skinned man at the very edge of the room. It had been eyeing the hunched thing from afar; the very reason it would seem that they had gone through the trouble of breaking in and risking their well-being in the first place.
The distance between them neared, and Jesse's hands gripped the edge of the wall even harder in anticipation. What was he going to expect? How will this end? Would they do something terrible to this girded, defenseless man?
The answer was bound to reveal itself soon enough--this McCree knew, and yet he had never been as restless as then, the frantic racing of the blood inside his head rendering him deaf to all the other sounds around him.
"Hanzo..."
The figure spoke at last, but McCree was too enraptured by the scene steadily unfolding before him to notice how something about the voice seemed off.
It didn't sound quite how he had imagined it to be in his head; the ominous presence of the hooded figure couldn't possibly be the owner of such a voice!
It should have confused him. But instead he stayed and stood his ground, determined to see its end.
So Hanzo's his name...wait.
He was watching a story as it wrote down itself; like a revolutionary marveling at the very fact that he was a part of history in the making--living it first hand.
"It's you. I knew you were here."
The clandestine being sounded as though they were choking on a ball up their throat, and Jesse wondered if that momentary weakness had a back story of its own to tell.
Is this the Hanzo Shimada?
Jesse was trying to piece it all together, and the realization along with the other barrage of emotions already swirling within him made his head float and he felt as though he was no longer planting his feet on the ground.
His gloved hand immediately found the gun in its holster.
This was the surrealest shit in his life--and there were some pretty strong contenders.
Mostly involving Reyes.
The figure shifted even further forward, and for the first time the cloth dragged on behind them, and an inch of skin finally saw the light. The loose garment ultimately slipped away and pooled down at the ankles of a long haired woman, who only stood there without a sound, unmoving. She slowly extended two quaking palms out to brush the curtain of hair away and behind the man's ears, and gently cup the stubbled jaw to lift up his face where she may clearly see it.
His eyes were closed shut, but even from where Jesse was standing he could see as clear as day that this was a man who has had everything taken from him, one who has lost faith in the off chance that life may be better for him someday.
McCree knew she saw it too, and he could have sworn that he heard her heart break in the calm of it all.
She crashed down on to her knees without warning and wrapped both arms around the unconscious man's hanging torso, disturbing the chains and making them rattle
Hysterical sobbing then came out from her lips, pure suppressed agony ripping from her throat. It was momentary, but the display was unlike anything Jesse had ever seen before, and he felt his chest tighten painfully at the sight. Everything was so raw, so intense, the cowboy was at loss for actions despite knowing that he should probably step in and apprehend this Hanzo Shimada--a wanted criminal in the eyes of his organization.
"My love...what have they done to you?" the woman whispered over and over again, loosening her tight embrace to caress his unconscious visage with a gentle palm in an attempt to smooth out the forlorn expression that ashened his sleeping face. "I'll get you out, I'll get you out of here, Hanzo-"
Tears were still running down her reddened face in vigorous streams, but she held on to him like she promised herself. She calmed herself down against the nook of his shoulder, deep breaths taking in the comforting scent that was him. For a moment she felt as though she were back in the time when there was nothing to worry about but the feeling of his fingers inside the spaces between her own.
She wanted to stay. And she did so as she closed her eyes and took a few minutes of respite in his company.
Jesse merely grunted, retracting the hand that he had wrapped around the handle of his revolver and assuring himself that the chance to capture the criminal Hanzo would present itself another time.
Not now...maybe later.
"Hanzo..." she whispered with an air of joy, pulling Hanzo closer to her, and to McCree's surprise she smiled amidst the dried tears on her cheeks, and instantly he recognized her from a face he'd seen long, long ago; a ghost that rose from the grave, someone he just thought he had lost forever.
"(Y/N)."
Eyyyy yo!! Nah I'm kidding--of course this ain't the last chapter. This story not even close to bein done so keep sitting on yo chairs and don't forget to vote and comment!
Sorry for the wait--it's been real busy but I'll try to update as much as I can--peace out till the next chapter!!
Spoiler: You either find a great ally or a great enemy with McCree. Huehuehue. Stay tuned!
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