Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Let's start by making something very very clear: you would never eat at a place like the Panorama Diner. You couldn't be paid to eat there. The place had a rat every other week, the roadkill burger looked like actual roadkill, and the coffee always tasted like boiled dirt. It looked like the fantasy of someone who had watched Grease one too many times as a kid and wanted to revive the glory days of the 50’s.

And all of that isn't even to mention what a hotspot it was for criminal activity.

How many goddamn biker gangs could one town have? The answer is a lot.

Pro-omnic gangs, anti-omnic gangs, drug traffickers, weapons dealers, punks, ruffians, it was a goddamn shitshow is what it was. Most of them were inconsequential though. There was only one gang worth their salt on route 66 and that was deadlock. Even the Panorama that wanted to alienate as few customers as possible didn't want to deal with them.

That, you realize, is probably why Jesse stood out to you.

His picture was plastered everywhere just out of sight in the diner. Behind the bar, next to a gun. Behind the counter, next to a gun. In the back room, next to a gun. Out back, next to a gun. It was almost like your boss was trying to tell you something.

It was past midnight on a Wednesday night when he showed up. You were the only one working. He slipped in past your hawk like gaze that was trained firmly on the inside of your eyelids. He slipped into a booth with two “friends” and you could practically smell the gunpowder from your spot behind the counter. You peeked one eye open and accidentally caught his gaze. He raised one hand as if to signal you over with a quirked brow and a wink. You weren't easily flustered but yeah a bit of pink dusted over your cheeks. You couldn't help it. You had a thing for the bad boys.

You made your way around the counter and towards their table flipping your notepad open and clicking your pen. “Evenin’. What’re you having?”

You glanced at the Deadlock symbol on the back of his leather vest absently as his pals eyed you like fucking wolves. Their symbol was out and proud, as if trying to break some kinda rule. You figured he knew it too. You don't get your face plastered around the place with guns specifically for you without knowing it. He looked at you from under the brim of his hat as if watching to see what you were gonna do. Daring you to take a shot.

You were a waiter. He had a reputation. You didn't even wanna work nights in the Panorama, risking your life for it? Over your dead fucking body. You quirked your eyebrow, throwing his challenge right back at him. He took a deep breath in through his nose and shut his eyes, conceding defeat. “Steak 'n eggs all around.”

“No drinks?”

“Coffee.”

You snort despite yourself. You clear your throat to cover it up. “Coming right up.”

“Thank ya, doll.”

You gave him a look and stepped back from his booth to the kitchen. You caught sight of his photo as you passed the counter. It didn't do him justice. You knew you were supposed to take that shotgun and point it in his face and threaten him out of your diner, shoot him at last resort, but that voice threw any inhibitions you may have had out the window. What the hell did he do to warrant such a violent ban?

You went to work making their steaks and eggs. Then their “coffee”. When you returned with their food you made a point of hearing absolutely nothing. The less you knew about local gang business the better. You put their plates and mugs down in front of them and spun on your heel going back to the counter to continue your half nap. You did, however, catch the way his face twisted as he took his first sip of coffee.

“You guys go ahead, I'll catch up with you.” Your eyes only peeked open when you heard the stool in front of you squeak as a weight settled onto it. There he was, leaning against the counter giving you a coy grin.

“Bathroom is over there.”

“The more you know.” He says but doesn't move. You raise an eyebrow but a smile splits across your face all the same.

“Liked the coffee?”

He coughed and tilted his head slightly forward. “It was... Good.”

You laughed. “Don't gotta lie for my sake. It always tasted like boiled dirt.”

His grin widened. “Boiled dirt, eh?” He stuck out a hand for you to take. “Jesse McCree.”

You slipped your hand into his and gave it a shake. “Oh, I know who you are, cowboy.” You pulled the photo taped to the underside of the countertop and put it in between you. “I almost wanna ask for an autograph.”

Jesse laughed and pulled out a sharpie, probably what he uses to idly vandalize property when not out causing headaches for your boss. He signed the photo and flashed a toothy grin your way. “Might wanna take that home. ‘M sure your boss wouldn't be much too happy that you let me in here.”

“I'm sure he'd be pissed.”

“I don't think I got your name, darlin’.” You introduced yourself. He rolled your name around on his tongue. “Mighty fine name, ya got there.”

“A compliment from a real bonafide celebrity! I'm speechless.”

“That's no good, wouldn't wanna take such a pretty voice away from ya.”

“Yanno, if I didn't know better I'd think you were flirting with me, cowboy.”

“Is it workin’?”

“It just might be.” You reached out and took his hand in one hand and the marker in your other. You scribbled your number onto his open palm. “But you might have to come again just to make sure.” You had a thing for bad boys.

“Don't think your boss would much appreciate that.”

“Guess you'll just hafta take me somewhere else, yeah?”

“If I've got no choice, I s’pose I will.” He winked at you.

“Looking forward to it.”

He straightened up and rolled his shoulders back throwing a glance over his shoulder at the exit. “I gotta catch up with my boys, but I'll definitely be seeing you later.”

“I'll make sure of it.” You waved your fingers at him as he stepped out. 2 AM. 4 hours to the end of your shift. You went to the back room and tucked your autographed photo into your bag for safe keeping, the small ten digit phone number in the corner not escaping your eye. You smiled and zipped your bag shut stepping back outside for an otherwise entirely uneventful shift.

Chapter Text

“Howdy, cowboy.”

“Howdy.”

Monday night, 1 AM, Jesse enters the Panorama. He's alone this time and situates himself at the counter right in front of you. You flip open your notebook and click your pen. “What can I get ya tonight?”

“Just a coffee for now.”

“Ballsy, you really want another cup after last time?”

“What can I say? It's growin’ on me.”

“Like a fungus, I'm sure.”

“O’ course.”

You placed the pot onto the coffee maker and let it do it's thing. You leaned back on the opposite counter and crossed your arms, tossing an easy smile his way. “You're well on your way to becoming a regular here, you know? Never saw you around before last week and now you're here every other day.”

“Didn't know there was such a cutie workin’ nights here 'til last week.” He winked and you fluttered your eyes.

“I don't actually.”

“Naw?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I'm just covering for someone for a bit. But I suppose if you're gonna keep coming around I'll have to pick up more night shifts.”

Now it was his turn to flutter his eyelashes. “If I didn't know any better I'd think you were flirtin’ with me.”

You barked a laugh. “Is it working?”

“Sure is. Whaddaya say we scratch the coffee and ditch this place?”

“I'm the only one in the diner for five more hours! You want me to abandon this place for so long?”

“No one's gotta know. So long as I bring ya home before six it'll be fine, right?”

You tapped a finger against your bottom lip. “I should say no...”

“But you won't.”

Your face split into a smile. Damn him. His charm was too effective. Was this that southern charm you'd heard so much about? “Nah, I won't. Let's go.” He grinned and took your hand and ran out of the diner. You laughed as you moved to keep pace with him.

Deadlock Gorge was almost peaceful at this time of night. When the biker gangs weren't out jerking each other off and the only thing outside with you were the stars.

Jesse had a bike parked in front of the Panorama. It was sexy. Black with the occasional red accent that's been polished to a shine, dark leather seats, you sat behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Y’ ready?” He flashes a cocky smile at you over his shoulder. You grin in response and lean your face into his shoulder as you set off.

The thing about Deadlock Gorge is that it was in the middle of nowhere. No flashy city lights to obscure the sky, leaving you and Jesse under a blanket of stars. His bikes engine revved and you leaned back looking up at the sky letting out a laugh, streetlights passing you by as you made your way to the High Side.

The High Side was full of smoke. Like smokey smoke, really thick smoke. Like, it’s a wonder that anyone was even hitting the dartboard, much less getting bullseyes. You heard the sound of pool balls clacking together and a wave of cheers erupted across the bar, the patrons were merry but you knew that everyone in the joint was a gangster. A Deadlock Rebel. Even Jesse.

“Who’s this, Deadeye?” Someone slid across the bar placing himself firmly in front of you.

“Hands off.” Jesse placed his on your shoulders. “This one’s mine.”

The other man didn’t move. He reached over and grabbed Jesse’s hat off his head and put it onto his, tipping it. “Deadeye really got ‘himself a catch, eh? The name’s Sly. Pleasure to meetcha.” He winked and let out a laugh when Jesse snatched his hat back.

You don’t actually remember much from that night. But you do remember Sly. You do remember waking up in Jesse’s bed, in a more vulnerable state of dress and watching Jesse’s back raise with his breaths. He slept on his side.

His bedroom window faced the east, so you had a great glaring eyeful of the sun first thing in the morning. The window was open and the gentle springtime breeze wafted through them. His bed smelled like cologne and fabric softener. You suppose you didn’t make it back in time for the shifts to turn over. Jesse rolled onto his other side, burying his face into the crook of your neck and draped an arm over your hip. You suppose you didn’t really care.

Chapter Text

You could admit it. When you heard news of Overwatch storming Deadlock’s base you cried. You cried because you knew Jesse was in there. It had been three months after the two of you had started dating and the thought of him being put behind bars, or worse getting killed in the crossfire, terrified you.

But admittedly, the thought of him joining Overwatch was so much worse.

“This don't gotta go badly, doll.” Sly reached out and stroked a lock of your hair. You turned your head away in defiance.

Jesse joining Overwatch was arguably the worst possible ending to this story.

Deadlock was vengeful, they we're not happy about it. Jesse had to turn in his fellow members, the boss was taken in and Sly stepped up to claim his spot. Jesse didn't have a lot of foresight, of course he'd choose to join Overwatch, that was the best answer for him . The problem lies on the best answer for you .

So here you are, tied to a wooden chair deep in the Deadlock base. Your bag was on the floor contents spilled across it from when they were rifling through your stuff to find something, anything that would betray Jesse's location. Sly sneered and grabbed a fistfull of your hair yanking your head to face him again.

His teeth were yellowed from all the smoking he's done, his skin was shiny like a thin layer of sweat coated his face, you could make out the beginnings of a cold sore above his lip. “Come on, why’re ya so keen on protectin’ him? He sure ain't repayin’ the favor, yanno? You don't think he actually loves ya or nothin’, do ya? Please. If he cared about ya he wouldn'ta let this happen. You were just a warm body for him to stick his dick in. So, why don't ya tell us where he's hiding? I'll make it worth your while.” He ran a finger under your chin and licked his lips like a goddamn wolf.

You narrowed your eyes and spit in his face.

“AGH!” He jumped back, rubbing his eye. He looked down at his hand then back at you, his face turning thirty degrees redder in pure, uninhibited fury. “You fuckin’...!” He reeled back and smacked the back of his hand across your face with enough force to topple your chair. You flinched at the sound. “We usually save torture for enemies, but for you, doll, I'll make a special exception. We'll see just how deep your devotion goes.”

Two of his lackeys maneuvered around you, putting you upright again.

Chapter Text

When Jesse first got the message, he mistook your body for a corpse. You were limp in the chair you were bound to, your body was slumped forward but your head was pulled back by an anonymous hand holding you by a handful of hair. Your face was littered in bruises, you had two black eyes and the blood from your broken nose had long since dried caked over your mouth and chin.

This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. Yeah, Deadlock was violent as hell but they'd never been one to torture . That's why when he first saw the picture he assumed you were already dead. His heart shattered right then and there, he felt his entire world collapse around him. He promised you he'd be back. He promised that he'd take you away from that bus stop to hell, that he'd leave Overwatch and get a ranch or something out in the country where you'd have two dogs and maybe a child running around in the field shrieking and playing and running and being happy .

Then he got the second message. This one was of your full body, laying on the floor unconscious. Your eyebrows pinched together like despite your body shutting itself down you knew exactly what was happening in the world of the living. He could see your wrists that had been rubbed raw by rough rope. He could see the sheen of sweat costing your forehead, hugging your hair to your face. Did they buy a high quality camera just to taunt him?

The third message was you in the same position, but closer. At a new angle. Like they'd kneeled down and took a picture from your feet up like a middle schooler trying to take a panty shot without the girl knowing. Now that mad his blood absolutely boil . Their taunting was never classy but being on the receiving end was something different entirely.

The fourth and final message was you, still splayed across the ground, but the anonymous hand pulling your head up forcing you to look into the camera. Your pupils were blown wide and it looked like you were struggling to keep the one eye that wasn't swollen shut open. The photo mostly cropped it out but he could recognize the black tip of a gun pressed under your chin.

Save me, cowboy.

So many thoughts ran through his head. Why did you leave them behind?! Why did you betray Deadlock?! If you'd just accepted prison they would be fine! You're so selfish! Saving your own hide and leaving them to receive the punishment!

He couldn't process all of them at once. So he settled on throwing his phone at his quarters’ wall. He hunched over his desk swiping his arms widely across it throwing everything everywhere. He kicked the closet door until it splintered under his feet. He cursed and screamed and hit the wall over and over again. The kitchen. He needed to get to the kitchen. He needed a plate. He needed to shatter something.

“What's the matter, McCree?” He stopped marching towards the door at the sound of his roommates voice.

Genji was so quiet, his eyes were closed like a portrait of serenity (which Jesse knew was bullshit, he'd never met an angrier person in his entire life). He was meditating cross legged on his bed. McCree didn't even notice he was there.

“I! They...!” He stuttered. He hadn't a goddamn clue how he was even supposed to begin.

Genji opened his eyes and raised and eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“I! It's! Deadlock took...!” He ran over to his phone, putting the battery that popped out at impact and pressed the button frantically trying to hurry the reboot along. It didn't hurry the reboot along. He tripped over himself trying to open the messages again. He dropped his phone. “Shit.” He swore, picking it up and shoving into Genji’s face. He had to calm down. He couldn't help you when he was panicking.

Genji took the phone with robotic fingers, eyes scanning the image like he was analyzing it for information. How much of a cyborg was he, actually? Did he have, like, actual robot eyes that could pick up information human ones couldn't?

“Is this your partner or something?”

McCree nodded. “When I joined Overwatch they stayed behind and now Deadlock has...” He was shaken.

Genji, inexpressive Genji, held thr phone back out to him. “You should tell Reyes.”

“Yeah! Reyes! I should tell Reyes!” He nodded along and launched himself into a run down the hall at full speed. He held his hat in one hand and his phone in the other as he rounded a corner to the commander's office.

“You sure this is real?” Gabriel handed the phone back to Jesse. He, also, had an infuriating wall of neutrality like Genji's. “It could be fake, trying to lure you back to attack you or something.

“It's real!” He didn't mean to say it as loudly as he did. “They wouldn't join up with Deadlock for anything, they've been captured, they're hurting them, jefe, I—!”

Gabriel raised a hand silencing him. Jesse's mouth snapped shut and he just stood visibly antsy and wringing his hat in his hands. Gabriel leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together in front of his face. “If you think this is real then I believe you.” Jesse’s chest seemed to expand in joy. “I'll send someone to look into it.”

“'Someone’? With all due respect, I think I should be the one who goes and saves them, yanno?”

“No, I don't know. Why would I send you when they're clearly trying to trick you into going back?”

“But, jefe!”

“You're too close to this, McCree!” Gabriel smacked a hand down on the desk between them. “You're falling right into their trap! They want you to go and I'm not about to sacrifice my best sharpshooter when I don't have to! Do I make myself clear?!”

Jesse puffed up his chest, this time in defiance. He scowled. He couldn't just not go. “...Fine.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the office leaving Gabriel leaning against the desk rubbing his temples as his living, walking headache retreated.

Slamming the door shut behind him Jesse took a sharp right, walking directly into Genji. “Oof.” He grunted. He scratched his neck. “Sorry 'bout that, partner.”

Genji shook his head. His face plate was on. He always wore it out of their room. “You plan to go save them, don't you?”

“Wh-whaaaat...?” He laughed awkwardly.

Bullseye.

“Reyes is right. They're trying to trap you and you're playing right into their hands. You know that, right?”

“I mean. Yeah , I know that. But I can't just-just...”

Genji nodded. “I understand. Then, let me come with you.”

“With me?”

“You're going to make a bunch of stupid mistakes. Someone has to watch your back since you insist on going right into the lion's den.”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. How are we supposed to get outta here now though?”

“I will get Angela to make up something.”

“Genji Shimada, yer a saint.” Jesse wrapped him in a hug. Genji sighed in mock irritation and pat his back.

“Come on.” Jesse pulled back, but still held him by the shoulders. “We oughta prepare if we're gonna do this.”