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When he wakes, the morning is still and calm. Sighing, he runs a hand over his face and beard. His body turns as he rakes the sheets for her warmth, but only finds the cool mattress.
“Sombra,” he grumbles, voice thick with disuse and the morning air.
Leaning up on his good arm, he looks over their small bedroom. Quaint and homely, he fell in love with it on sight. His darling took some convincing, but she grows to love it as he does.
Blinking sleep away, he finds her still form standing at the window. Ankles crossed, with one hand wrapping around her torso. She stares out into the glowing red spraying across the sky. A purple nail taps at her lips restlessly, lost in thought.
After staring a moment more at the beauty mark at the side of her temple, he slips out from under the sheets. The cool floor chills the bottom of his feet as he goes to her. Touching her shoulder first, she turns her head to look at him. Eyes distance as she still focuses on whatever is dancing around in her head, body still facing the window.
The night prior felt off. Sombra was quiet, a little lost to space. His initial brushing it off as her weariness is now coming back as a ghost. Moaning about missing something bothering his lovely darling.
“Mornin', honeybee,” he gently wraps his arms around her. Pressing against her back, he tucks his chin against the side of her hair. Her body moves softly, breathing gentle lungfuls. Lifting her hand to lay against his metallic arm, she still holds that hard concentration, but her irises soften against him.
“Buenos días, cariño,” She says, pulling the words along in her accent. Sounding like the sun and clay and home.
Her fingers tap against the back of his hand for one moment, "I have a little surprise for you, Jesse."
“Do you now,” he murmurs against her. A smile plays along his lips as he plots the next gift he'll give to her. Something sweet, and surprising, like this.
The morning sun has yet to peek above the horizon, but the light still causes his eyelids to close. Pressing his cheek against her head, a foxglove scent floats off her skin and intoxicates his senses better than any whiskey he’s ever drank.
“You’ll like it,” she says, still softly. No teasing words touch her tongue, unusual for her voice.
“Show me,” he pleads, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear.
Her hands move, thumbs and forefingers brushing together as a purple tinted hologram expands into view. The image is stable, flashing with black and white noise. In the center, a circular, almost peanut shaped object rests.
He lifts his head, eyes squinting slightly to study the foreign picture better.
“Darlin’?” he asks.
“I was feeling sick last night,” she begins, watching the image flicker. “I ran a sweep through my system, trying to see what bug I caught but it wasn’t any illness.”
The tone to her voice is somber, too delicate for her. The clever, teasing hacker. Fear strikes through his heart of some other condition lurking in her body. A tumor or cancer that could take her away from him.
“I found a little surprise, and took this picture last night.” She gestures to the hologram she produced moments ago.
“Sombra,” he asks, voice edging on anxiety.
Her hand rubs his arm reassuringly, the other points to the image.
“That’s his little body,” her purple nail moves to the other second half of the peanut shape white figure, “And that’s his little head. He’s just growing, but he’s here, Jesse.”
The words sink into his mind, slowly brushing aside the initial fear and replacing it with sheer shock. He leans against her, eyes trying to somehow drink in the image more. At his stillness, Sombra laughs before turning to face him. Touching his cheek, she holds a smile, but it’s lost the playful edge he’s so used to.
“You’re a papi now,” she whispers delicately, thumb stroking against his beard.
"Papai,” he echoes back, looking to her familiar irises. His hands hold her arms, lips parted and face slack. The information he has been shown and told is still buzzing in his skull, but his fingers are just grasping it. “You’re pregnant? We’re pregnant?”
She raises an eyebrow playfully, before confirming once more.
He inhales, feeling the largest grin grow on his face. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifts her in one small twirl before setting her back on her feet. Gentle, mindfully of her stomach, because she’s pregnant. They’re pregnant.
“You’re gonna be a momma! I’m gonna be a papa,” he rushes out, feeling a high of a drug that can’t be produced with human hands. “Darlin'!”
Her face still holds that solemnity he’s very rarely seen. Still, and exhaling, he holds her gaze for a moment. Dispersing his rush of joy, he rubs his thumb against her skin.
“What’s wrong,” he whispers, watching her carefully held gaze shift.
“I’m happy,” she says easily, “I’m happy our baby will grow up with two parents and we’ll be with him every step of the way and he will never feel alone.”
The omnic war was hard on many, but Sombra lost both her folks in the bloody mess. McCree’s father was a man he never knew, and his mother died very young. Young enough to leave him rummaging for scraps until Deadlock saw some use in him.
Softly, he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. Her body loosens at his touch, but the somber in her stare still holds.
“We’ll be with our baby 'til they’re begging us to leave them be,” He promises. A small face, with little hands, blooms in his mind. Her eyes, and beautiful skin. A little critter that will feel all the love in the world from both their hearts.
“I swear,” he breathes, and she exhales when he says this.
“He’s going to look like you,” she states, one hand moves to press against her stomach. Already holding a glow that beams with her being.
McCree tilts his head back slightly. “Hold up now, he? You’re fancy tech can tell you that already?”
An all too familiar sly smile slips upon her lips. “No, but I know. Jesse Jr., until we think of something better.”
“Hmmm,” he hums before looking to her still flat stomach. Already he can see her swollen belly and feel the baby’s tiny movements within her. “Nah. Sorry darlin’, but my bets are on our little princess looking just like her momma.”
She grips his shirt suddenly, pulling him into her as they taste each other’s lips. Pure energy runs through his veins, ecstasy at his wife and soon to be little one. They part, and he finds that all his trails have lead him to this. To her.
“We’ll see, azúcar.”