Work Text:
You weren’t sure why you were having these thoughts; these irrationalities, these inconveniences, but they kept coming. Again, again, and again. No matter how much you tried to keep them confined in the deepest ravines of your mind, to dismiss them as they poked at your conscious every waking moment, they wouldn’t leave.
You were short of breath, struggling to keep a steady pattern. They wouldn’t stop, these thoughts, these doubts, these fears, these… Whatever they were. They kept eating at you, frustrating you, upsetting you and frankly – overwhelmed you. A carousel of ideas had you in such a state of hesitance that you couldn’t respond effectively.
Every muscle felt tight, ready to act, but you were unable to move. Your skin warm, but clammy, and body trembling, you stood there, staring wide eyed at the figure in front of you. For so long, and even now, you were unsure of what to do, who to speak to, or if it was even worth it. Every passing moment had your mind racing even faster, and heart palpitating quicker you swore you could hear the vibration through your chest.
“I… I-” A sheen of of water glazed over your eyes. “I’m… I can’t–”
Your anxiety sat comfortably on your shoulders, teardrops resting underneath your chin as you reluctantly opened your mouth to speak more. You needed to breathe, you needed to think, and it wasn’t happening. Staring with widened eyes as water brimmed your dark lashes, you felt utterly hopeless, and lost. What could you say, what could you do, to get these to stop? To put your heart – to put your mind, at ease? It was becoming too much, too much, too fast –
“‘m right here,” his voice was soft, and low, but clear.
You brought your hands to your face, covering your mouth while you shut your eyes as tight as you could. Even though he was here physically, your thoughts wouldn’t have you believe his support. This image, whatever it was. You hadn’t the energy to combat it, or to try to convince yourself otherwise. While you shivered, you hadn’t noticed the male place a hand softly on your shoulder and focusing his vision solely on you.
“‘m right here,” he repeated, not raising his voice as you exhaled harshly, “Promise.”
“J-Je-Jess-”
Slowly, so that you were able to see his movement, McCree carefully took your hands within his own while he waited for you to speak. He was patient, observing as your spastic breathing slowed down just a bit. Gently his hands rubbed circles over the backs of your hand as you closed your eyes and continued to cry. He kept a firm hold on your, giving you enough breathing room but physically showing he was there with you.
“It’s OK, pumpkin, ‘m right here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”