Work Text:
The first time Jesse saw it, he was lying on the floor, the cold wall of his room pressing into his back. He’d been eleven.
He could remember it so well because his mother had bought him that awesome cowboy hat for his birthday. The same hat that lay on the other side of the room because his father had kicked it into the corner when it fell off after the first punch. One week after his mother had died.
Jesse thought he was imagining it because there was no way a stray little puppy had stumbled into his room in the middle of the night. But still, he didn’t move. He’d just found a somewhat bearable position which made his ribs hurt less. Surely there had to be a bruise the size of his father’s foot adorning his chest.
Watching the puppy crawl up to him made him feel even more miserable. Its eyes were still half closed and its feet were too uncoordinated. Jesse didn’t know why it hurt to look at the imaginary animal, but it made the tears well up again and he clenched his eyes shut to get rid of the illusion.
It helped a bit.
That was until a wet nose pushed into his cheek, accompanied by the softest whimper he’d ever heard.
“Go away,” Jesse whispered, refusing to give in to this dream. Surely he’d imagined it to feel better, to forget what had just transpired. There was a pitiful whine and Jesse hiccupped again, the sobs growing stronger.
Only after he’d calmed down, he allowed himself to open his eyes again. And there it was lying. A little pile of fur sitting in front of his very nose. The puppy’s eyes were closed and it looked like it was sleeping as it had positioned itself as close as possible to Jesse without touching him. Now that he could get a better look at it, he could see a faintly red hue engulfing the dark-coloured puppy.
Jesse allowed himself to move his arm, slowly reaching up to the sleeping animal. He hesitated when he was about to touch it. But when he did, he let out the breath he’d been holding the whole time.
It was tiny. So very tiny. It would easily fit into his hands. All that fluffy fur made it look bigger than it actually was.
And it was warm. So warm that Jesse could start to feel his frozen fingers again.
The puppy didn’t move when he started petting it, running his fingers carefully through the soft fur.
“Why are you here?” Jesse asked, biting his lower lip to stall the fresh tears, which were about to join the puddle on the floor.
The little puppy roused from its sleep, its nose bumping into Jesse’s thumb as it wiggled. It latched onto his finger with its tiny mouth, catching it between its jaws. It had no teeth, but it immediately began to lick at the skin, lazily chewing on the thumb every now and then. The puppy’s action calmed Jesse and he couldn’t suppress the smile when it fell asleep again, energy spent with Jesse’s thumb still stuck in its mouth. With the small ball of fur tucked to his cheek, Jesse fell asleep soon afterwards.
He forgot about it soon after. He told himself that it had just been a dream, a way to get over the fact that his mother was dead and his father blamed him. He didn’t need an imaginary friend.
It was three years later, that his father punched him so hard that he passed out and woke up with a splitting headache, hair caked in dried blood and the urge to empty his stomach on the spot.
He did empty his stomach on the spot. But then he got up, lazily spit onto the floor to get rid of the taste and leaned against the wall of his room, looking at the door his father had surely stormed through to get himself more liquor from the store three blocks down the street. When he let his swimming gaze wander through the room, he saw a puppy sitting in the darkest corner, watching him with golden glowing eyes.
It was the same puppy he’d encountered three years back, but now it was bigger, looking about three months old. Never losing eye contact, its ears were perked upright..
Jesse wasn’t afraid of its unrelenting stare. He’d experienced true fear. A puppy with more fur than teeth was not something he had to be cautious of.
“You here?” Jesse mumbled, knowing full well that the concussion made him see things that weren’t there. But still, it was better than anything else he could think of.
The young dog blinked once, its yellow eyes seemingly glowing stronger.
Jesse chuckled dryly, wiping at the spit stuck to his chin. “Get out of here,” he spat almost annoyed. No, scratch that – he was annoyed. He motioned with his head to the door.
The dog looked at the door, blinking once before it turned back to him.
“Out!” he growled.
The puppy stood up and lazily strolled towards said exit, only to stop and look at Jesse again. Now that it was standing in the dying sunlight, its fur glistened with red sparks, the golden eyes resembling gems.
“What are you waiting for?” Jesse murmured, gritting his teeth. “There’s nothin’ here. Just get your sorry ass out of here before you end up dead.”
Jesse winced at his own words. It hurt because he knew he was right. Everything that had been good in this place had disappeared when his mother had left him behind with this drunkard he called ‘father’. There was no reason to stay. None at all.
A bark pulled him out of his thoughts, startling him so much that he made the mistake to move his head too quickly. He groaned in pain as he held his throbbing skull. Another bark.
“What?!” Jesse shouted in frustration, glaring at the dog. “What do you want?”
The animal looked at the closed door and back at him, turning its head to look at him questioningly.
“I can’t, don’t you understand?!” Jesse shouted, ignoring the flaring pain. He pulled up his knees and buried his head in them, arms protectively wrung around his head. “I just can’t…”
His throat burned and his breaths came harshly and uneven. Suddenly a warm snout wedged itself between his legs, working its way through until Jesse was greeted with a wet tongue to his nose. He flinched, uncurling himself to push the offending snout away. But the puppy didn’t give in, always pushing back until its front legs were sitting on Jesse’s chest, tongue licking at the parts of his face it could reach. Jesse sputtered and grabbed the dog by the back of its neck, holding it into to air and a good distance away to safe the last dry spots of his otherwise wet skin.
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know?” he growled, staring at the helpless puppy in his hand. It barked as if to reply. Jesse grumbled as he wiped at the slobber stuck to his chin. “Why are you here anyway?”
The puppy whimpered, stuck its tongue out and panted in excitement, spit dropping onto Jesse’s wrinkled shirt. He regarded the dog for a moment longer, before carefully setting it to the ground in front of him.
“You’re weird,” he mumbled when it pushed its head into his hand, enjoying the petting Jesse offered. His hand wandered to its neck, scratching it leisurely. Its ears laid back as one of his hind legs shook in bliss. Jesse sighed, letting his eyes wander to the door. He stared at it in thought. “You think I should go?” he mumbled absentmindedly.
A wet tongue licking at the back of his hand pulled his attention back to the puppy. It whined again, carefully taking his fingers into its mouth without hurting him. It took a step back, pulling Jesse’s hand towards the door.
“…I guess you’re right.”
Jesse was fifteen when he held his first revolver. The gang had decided that he was now old enough to handle himself in the streets, promoting him from boy-for-everything to official Deadlock gang member.
Instructions were sparse and training consisted of him, a rusty revolver, a handful of metal cans and an old stool.
He was a shitty shot.
His first shot ended him up with a black eye since he didn’t think the recoil would be that powerful. The older members only laughed and cheered that he would at least make a nice meat shield in the heat of battle. And the worst part was that Jesse knew that they were right. So he did what he could: He used every free second he got to get better at shooting, even if it meant forgoing sleep and enduring the brisk nights in the desert alone with a simple torch to light his targets.
It was on one of those nights, that his patience finally snapped. He cursed and slammed the revolver to the ground, a shot going wide into the darkness as the loose trigger was knocked back by the impact. Jesse didn’t even care, ripping his hat off his head and flinging it at the can which stood mockingly on the old bar stool, still unharmed after all these days. Jesse panted, grinding his teeth in anger.
Soft shuffling behind his back made him spin around, glaring at the golden drops in the darkness.
“What?!” he snapped.
The eyes blinked lazily.
“You just get ‘ere whenever it goddamn pleases you, don’t ya?” he growled, watching as the beast slowly walked closer, making it easier for Jesse to look at it in the darkness.
Jesse was almost certain that whatever this illusion was he kept on seeing, was no mere dog. It still wasn’t fully grown, but by now it was bigger than most mutts he’d seen strolling around. Its fur was thicker, the legs long and its claws sharp. A beast with weapons to kill larger prey than tiny rabbits.
The colour of its fur was dark red, flowing into a yellowish-white on its underbelly, including some marking on its head.
A wolf, if Jesse concluded correctly.
It trotted up to him, disregarding his hateful stare as it sat down right beside him, his eyes fixating on the can standing on the stool.
Their encounters had been few over the last year - Jesse could probably count them down to five or six times - but every time it did show up, it was always when he’d reached some low point in his life. As if it knew when he was about to drop everything and do something dumb. As if it was out to add insult to injury. It infuriated him.
So, whenever the stupid mutt showed up and tried to touch him, he shoved it away, spitting and cursing at it. After he tried to kick it to get it to leave, it abstained from getting too close. The one time he tried to hit it anyway, it laid its ears on and growled under its breath, halting Jesse in his actions. He stopped his physical attacks after that. Even if it was an illusion, he didn’t even want to imagine what it would feel like to be bitten by a juvenile wolf. He still called it ‘mutt’ and other various names to let it know, that it was still him who called the shots.
“Stupid fleabag,” he sneered when he snatched the revolver off the ground. He didn’t need the pity of a hallucination. He could handle himself, thank you very much. And if he needed to prove it to the beast to shoo it away, he would do it.
He cocked the revolver, aiming it at the can. The moment he decided to pull the trigger, the wolf barked, startling him so much, that the bullet went wide again.
“WHAT?!” Jesse shouted, stomping onto the ground. “What do you want?!”
The beast flicked its ear, but otherwise didn’t regard him, still staring at the can. Jesse kicked up the sand, effectively throwing it at the animal.
“If yer gonna distract me, then leave! I don’t wanna see your sorry ass anyway!”
It didn’t budge.
Jesse spat onto the ground as if to prove a point, taking aim once again. Just when he was about to lay his finger on the trigger, the wolf growled.
“Shut up,” Jesse hissed, trying to ignore the disturbance but only succeeding partly. He furrowed his brow in concentration, licking his lips. His hand shook with the residual agitation running through his veins. Whenever he was about to pull the trigger, the growling got louder, effectively throwing him off. He didn’t even try to convince the beast to keep silent, knowing fully well that it was too stubborn to listen to anything he’d say.
Instead, he tried to concentrate on the can, lining up the shot but not shooting yet. His breath got deeper the longer he stood still, his own heartbeat overshadowing the constant growls coming from the wolf. Soon, it was only him, his gun and the can in the distance.
He shot.
It hit.
The can dropped from the stool onto the ground. Jesse held his breath, watching it land on the grey sand. He blinked.
It wasn’t a perfect shot by any means. The bullet had only grazed the side of the can but it was his first shot that connected. His first hit.
He took a deep breath and looked at the wolf.
The wolf’s golden eyes looked back at him. It blinked.
The next time his imaginary fiend appeared – yes, “fiend” – he was somewhat glad to see it.
His bones ached, the cuts on his skin burned and the cuffs on his wrist dug uncomfortably into his flesh. He was hungry and whoever made the coffee should be shot dead on the spot to atone for his sin.
Jesse was sitting in the darkest and dustiest interrogation room he’d ever seen. Not that he’d seen an interrogation room before, but he was sure the water stains on the wall indicated that this place was the last opportunity he could enjoy his ‘freedom’ before he was sent to prison for the rest of his life.
He sighed, rubbing at his bloody knuckles to get some of the dried blood off. He didn’t need to look to know that the red wolf – now a formidable young adult – was sitting beside him, ears standing at attention. He didn’t dare to speak to it either, aiming to prevent joining the crazy people in the psychiatry. He knew he had some issues. Seeing an illusion whenever he was in a pinch had to be the most obvious hint.
But still, it was somehow nice to imagine a mighty beast sitting at his side, waiting with him for his unavoidable sentence for life in prison. It gave him strength and the will to fight. And fight he would.
The wolf yawned sleepily as if there was nothing wrong with the world. Jesse scoffed in amusement, scratching the stubble on his chin.
Yeah. He would be alright.
The first time Jesse knew he was going to die was on his twenty-sixth mission. It had been just over two years since he’d joined Blackwatch, accepting the offer of Gabriel Reyes, his commanding officer and leader of Blackwatch. The same asshole who barked into his ear to keep his position over the com link while he thought about his untimely death.
Jesse knew he was going to die because there was no way he would not die. The place was overrun by bad guys (he didn’t keep track who they were fighting today) and even his uncanny aim was not enough to keep them back. Those bastards were too fast and he couldn't keep up with them. They kept pushing him towards his last line of defence, until he was tucked behind a wall, contemplating how he should let his life end.
It didn't surprise him to see the mutt turn up again. Surely it would enjoy itself seeing him being riddled with bullets after all the shit he’d done to it. He’d mostly insulted it before he’d decided that ignoring worked better if you had a communicator stuck in your ear with which everyone else could hear what you were blabbering.
Jesse discarded said communicator to the ground, pushing his trademark cowboy hat a few inches up to get a better look at the majestic wolf. Not the worst thing to look at in his last moments. Those golden eyes still enraptured him, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.
“’ere to finally take me with ya?” he sighed, leaning heavily onto the wall of the dark alley. The beast sat between trash cans and crumpled newspapers, but it didn’t seem to mind. It stared at him with vivid eyes, flicking its ears whenever there was a shot grazing at the corner of the wall, just short of hitting Jesse’s flesh. How he avoided a shot to his battered frame, was something Jesse would never quite understand. Not that it mattered anyway.
What was more astonishing was the fact that the wolf actually wanted something from him. Jesse couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he remembered the look the animal gave him when he was still only fourteen, sitting with a concussion in his room.
Jesse peeked out of the corner, giving off some shots to keep the attackers at bay. He quickly swung back as the fire was returned.
“Alright, yer oversized fleabag,” he sighed in defiance as he reloaded the gun. “What do ya want?”
The beast stood up and slowly strolled towards him, ignoring the bullets embedding themselves right at its paws. It came to a stop right at his feet, just shy of brushing against his thigh. It didn’t touch him, knowing that Jesse had reacted badly every time it did. The man found himself staring into the yellow eyes – again – as he clenched his teeth in agitation.
“What?” he asked when the wolf didn’t make any indication on what it wanted from him. Only then did it move, its head slowly stretching to carefully catch Jesse’s left sleeve between its teeth. It pulled at it cautiously and Jesse, for the lack of understanding what he should do, followed the motion, soon crouching right in front of the wolf. He forgot everything around him. Where he was, what was happening… it suddenly didn’t matter.
He had never been this close to the beast in all these years. He had never looked at its face so carefully. He had never seen those eyes sparkle like liquid gold. They had never been quite so… intimate.
It was beautiful, Jesse thought. How had he never found the time to look at it just a bit closer?
Just when the urge to feel that fur for himself arose, the wolf leaned closer, closer and even closer. Jesse closed his eyes in anticipation, feeling its breath tickle his nose. Soft fur brushed against his left cheek. The air caught in his lungs. He could hear the soft breath of the wolf, he could feel its heartbeat.
And then he realised that something in his chest was rising. An urge, a knowing. His skin prickled and his hair stood on end. He opened his eyes.
The wolf was gone.
But it was there.
He could feel it.
Inside him.
He stood up slowly. His surroundings felt so much more… alive. He could smell the tension in the air, he could hear how the enemies shouted over the gunfire to close in. He could hear their footsteps. He knew where they were without even looking at them. And he knew what he had to do.
With a lightning-quick jump, he sprang out of his cover and tucked into a roll, avoiding the enemy’s bullets by mere inches. The second he stood on his feet again, he pulled the trigger, six times in quick succession, felling five men and one woman in the blink of an eye. Before they could realize that their comrades had been killed, six more fell with a bullet between their eyes.
Jesse watched as the two men who were still alive and kicking ran away in fear.
The next thing he remembered was Reyes’ face in his, asking if he was hurt. From there, everything fell back into place. He told him, that yes, he was fine and yes, he was responsible for all those corpses lying in the dirt. When they finally left the scene, he saw how golden eyes disappeared into the darkness of an alley. For the first time he thought, that maybe, just maybe, there was more to the whole thing than a mere trick of his mind.
The first time Jesse saw Genji’s dragonblade, he had the feeling that he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. A green dragon spirit sprouting out of a blade made him stop in the middle of the fight. He looked from the dragon back to the wolf standing at his side, thinking about the possibility that maybe he was not as crazy as he’d thought he was. Or he was beyond salvation. One of the two options.
His wolf had shown up more often after the incident in the city he couldn’t even remember the name of. It didn’t only appear when he was in a near death situation or when he felt like the whole world was resting on his shoulders, no, it appeared whenever he thought about it. He had to admit that he grew quite fond of his silent companion, even if others couldn’t see it. He didn’t talk to it, he didn’t even acknowledge it. But now, when he desperately needed to eliminate bad guys to keep himself and his teammates alive, it walked up to him, soft fur brushing his legs as it seemingly offered its powers to him. Jesse didn’t know if the wolf really granted him those few moments of full awareness, but he was grateful for it nevertheless. It worked and that was enough for him.
So, whenever he saw Genji striving alone through the base or training his biomechanical body all by himself in the training grounds, he thought about walking up to him and asking him if he could see the dragon as well. But he never did. Not only because Genji Shimada was no person who indulged in other’s company, but also because he feared it would cost him his freedom. At least the tiny bit of freedom he’d gained when he agreed to join and work for Blackwatch.
He decided to keep silent.
The wolf didn’t bother him as much as it did before. He didn’t insult it as often and the wolf kept its distance, watching him but no longer interfering with his life.
The mission he lost his arm on, was his last mission as a member of Blackwatch. He knew that the moment his left arm was ripped off in the explosion. He knew that because he was certain that he’d die there, lying between the rubble of the building he had deemed safe. It was his own fault. He had let his guard down and now he had to pay the price.
It didn’t surprise him if he was honest with himself. He knew that his death would be cruel the moment Reyes took him in. At one point he’d been sure that Reyes himself would kill him. But now, after everything that had happened in the last years, he couldn’t help but blame his boss. Ever since that day in Venice, things had gone seriously wrong. Reyes had put himself above everything they’d stood for.
And now he had to pay the price.
He was smiling when his wolf showed up as he was bleeding out internally and/or externally – he didn’t know nor did he care much.
He looked at it.
His wolf.
His wolf because it belonged to him. His wolf, because he was the only one who could see it. His wolf, because he was the damn human this wolf wouldn’t let go off. No matter what shit he pulled off. No matter what he’d say or do to it.
So, he was goddamn glad to see those golden orbs and that red sparkling fur with his tired eyes. The markings along its face had grown bigger and more elegant over the years. They even stretched over his back and shoulders. It was a proud beast, Jesse thought.
Even if it currently limped to his side, looking like it had been beaten to the inch of its life. Its left front leg was pale white and unresponsive, hovering over the ground as the beast staggered towards him.
My wolf, Jesse thought when it sat down heavily by his side, the usual vivid golden eyes as stale and cold as he himself felt. His body was weary and he could no longer hold his last cigar between his lips, letting it drop into the red puddle that spread beneath him.
“’ey there,” he mumbled, coughing as the dust in his lungs grated against his airways. The wolf flicked an ear in response, letting its head drop just a bit in exhaustion. “Sorry for being an ass,” he said because if he was going to die, he could at least apologize to the one being who’d stuck with him the whole time. The only being who didn’t betray him. The one wolf he could trust to be there when his time had come.
So, he thought, he could at least do something good in his last moments. With his last energy, he raised his right, still functioning arm and smiled stupidly.
“Come ‘ere,” he said because he knew that his proud wolf wanted nothing more than to stay by his side. Why it would want to do that, Jesse didn’t know. But he knew that it hadn’t touched him in so long not because it didn’t want to, but because Jesse had shoved the beast away. Because Jesse wanted to tell himself that he wasn’t crazy and that he wasn’t so desperate to wish for something he knew he couldn’t have.
But now it didn’t matter, because he’d die anyway, so he might as well grant his wolf its last wish. And because he couldn’t see it anymore. Because his vision was turning blurry and black and he was goddamn afraid to die alone with no one there to hold his hand.
The moment he dimly heard how the wolf struggled to reach him, Jesse thought his heart was breaking. But then he knew better because he could feel his heart breaking when that all too familiar muzzle landed with a heavy thump on his chest. And it shattered when he let his arm drop and land on that fluffy neck, feeling how the wolf breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of his human, no matter how bloody and ugly he was.
And when he felt himself dropping towards the other side, he thought that it was good the way it was. He was with his wolf and his wolf was with his human.
When he left Overwatch once and for all, his wolf walked beside him. Its leg was still white, but functional, just like his metallic arm he now wore. The matching limb was a reminder to Jesse that this wolf would always stay by his side.
The first time Jesse dared to pet it, it kept perfectly still, silently enjoying the rubs behind its ears. No growls, no tension. Just a man petting the wolf only he could see.
It was the first time he rubbed its belly, both lazily lying on a dusty bed in some rotten motel when he noticed that something was off. Only then did he really look and see that there were things there that only females had and… other things that weren’t there. He didn’t care before and he certainly didn’t care after he’d found out.
He even thought about giving his wolf a name, but he couldn’t settle for one and calling her plainly “wolf” was a bit harsh even for his taste. So, he affectionately called her “darling” or “sweetheart” whenever they were alone. She responded to him either way so he decided to put off the name giving just for a little longer until he could come up with the right one. There certainly wasn’t any need to rush and she didn’t seem to care either way.
After some time together on the road, they grew surprisingly comfortable with each other. Whenever the beast would lay down near Jesse in the cold nights of the desert, he would bury his hand into her soft fur, stroking it sluggishly until he fell asleep. Feeling her breathing kept the nightmares at bay. And whenever Jesse found himself outnumbered, she would stay beside him, letting him see the world through her eyes. He would repay her with plenty of petting afterwards and even allow her to take a well-deserved nap lying on his lap.
They were content. That was all there was to it.
Some years later Jesse responded to the Overwatch recall, following Winston’s plea to return to make the world a better place. He hadn’t planned on staying. He’d only wanted to see if things had changed, give Winston a hand here and there because the friendly gorilla had helped him way back and Jesse intended to return that favour. But weeks turned into months and he was still stuck with the ever-growing team. Missions were dangerous and involved playing cat and mouse with the government more often than he was exactly comfortable with. But it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.
And then, after several months, he had to admit that the team had grown on him. Even that scruffy archer who called himself Hanzo and who refused to believe that Genji, his brother who had turned 180 degrees in just over five years, was still alive.
It was due to the big heart of the cowboy, that Jessy learned real loss. Loss, which he knew could never be replenished.
Jesse had barely time to slip behind the car before bullets buried themselves into the street he’d just vacated. He spat the accumulated saliva onto the hot concrete as he reloaded his revolver in the same heartbeat. Sweat drops adorned his brow and he quickly brushed them away before they dropped into his eyes. Soon after he jumped out of his cover, felling the advancing Talon forces.
Six shots, four kills.
He was getting tired.
How long he’d been fighting for his life, was something he didn’t want to know. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter as long as he was still alive and kicking. All that kept him going was the adrenaline in his veins and the knowing that if he were to lose this point, his comrades’ backs would be completely defenceless. The others had to clear the objective and retreat first before he could. So he kept going. Shooting one bullet after the other.
It was the moment when the enemies thinned out, that he knew that something was wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it until suddenly his wolf showed up. It stood at the entrance of an alleyway not too far from his position, looking at him with sparkling eyes. He cursed under his breath as his hand flew up to the communicator in his ear.
“Winston!” he shouted over the gunfire in the background, “We’ve got a problem. How long until you’re clear?”
There was some static before the com link stabilized on the other end.
“We’re almost out,” Lena responded, suggesting that Winston was not in the position to answer. “Five minutes tops!”
“Can you hold out?” Jesse asked, fear spiking when his wolf looked back into the alley and howled.
“Go ahead, love!”
“I’ll be back!” Jesse promised, abandoning his cover to sprint after his wolf.
It had become a common thing for Jesse to change directions in the middle of the battle to go off and prevent fatal situations nobody else was able to pick up on. After the first dozen times, his comrades didn’t even question it anymore and let him loose to do as he pleased.
Of course, they couldn’t know that it was actually his wolf who alerted him.
His legs burned as he chased the beast through the city. The bodies littering the streets were his first hint. The protruding arrows from their scalps his second. Then his wolf stopped at the next corner, fletching her teeth in warning. With his finger on the trigger, he rounded the corner, taking only one second to take in the scene.
Hanzo propped up on a wall, bow lying on the floor.
Five enemies closing in on him.
Two from the front, three flanking.
His wolf brushing his leg.
He shot.
And then he ran.
“Hanzo!” Jesse shouted, ignoring how the lifeless Talon bodies flopped onto the ground. The archer looked up, surprise written all over his face.
“McCree… How-” His legs gave out under him before he could finish his sentence.
Jesse was already at his side, catching him. The moment he saw the bloody gunshot wound in the man’s right shoulder, he winced in sympathy. He clicked his tongue when he saw how sluggish Hanzo’s eyes followed his movement, pupils blown and unfocused. He looked like he’d been through the wringer one too many times.
“Yer alright?” he asked the disoriented man, draping Hanzo’s good arm over his shoulder to support him and keep him standing.
“I can walk on my own,” the archer bit back, groaning and holding his head in pain right after he’d said it.
“Sure thing. Just give me a sec here.” Jesse reached up to his earpiece, watching his wolf dance nervously on the spot. Enemies were still nearby then. “This is McCree. I’ve got Hanzo. He’s injured and needs a medic.”
“How is his status?” Mercy asked not a heartbeat later. It almost startled him.
“Took a bullet to the shoulder. Bleeding’s bad but could be worse. Think he’s got a concussion as well.” Hanzo grunted as if to deny the cowboy’s allegations.
“We’re pulling back now. What is your position?” Winston chimed in.
“We’re pretty much on the other side of the city. Enemies are still nearby. I can handle them, but I’m running out of bullets.”
“Can you make it to the dropship?”
Jesse clenched his teeth, asserting how much of Hanzo’s weight he carried. “Negative. Pretty boy ain’t gonna walk on his own and I can’t carry him all the way back.”
“Understood,” Winston grunted in his ear, the sounds of bullets connecting with metal blurring into the background. “Proceed to LZ Beta. We will pick you up.”
“Copy that.”
The line went dead and just like that he was left with an injured man hanging on his shoulder.
“Hold on,” Jesse mumbled as he slowly bent down to pick up the discarded bow. He didn’t bother handing it to Hanzo. Instead, he fiddled with it until it was safely on his own back without it hindering his movement too much.
His wolf barked. They had to get moving.
“Can yer walk or do ya need a ride?”
Hanzo grunted, clenching his eyes in pain. “I can walk,” he answered stubbornly, gripping at Jesse’s serape to steady himself and get his feet under him.
The cowboy nodded, gaze switching to his wolf. “Then let’s go.”
Without further instructions, she set off to lead the way, instinctively avoiding the nearing enemies.
It was slow-going. Even with his wolf at the front, it was impossible to avoid all Talon agents. They’d seemingly flooded the whole city. Around every creek and corner were posts stationed and Jesse had to stop more than once to deal with them before they could move on. Hanzo’s condition worsened with the constant movement. His legs gave out at one point and Jesse had no other option than to carry him bent over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Yer know,” Jesse huffed as he jogged down a small side street, “ain’t no shame in telling us that yer need help.”
“I lost my communication device when I fell…” Hanzo mumbled behind his back.
“Fell?” McCree repeated incredulous, fear sparking in his chest. “Fell from where?”
Hanzo had no chance to answer the question. His wolf suddenly jumped back, teeth fletching and fur standing on end. In the blink of an eye, she pressed herself tightly to her human’s leg. Jesse shot the enemies before they could even make eye contact with their targets. The cowboy cursed profusely, following the beast around the corner.
It seemed like every available Talon goon was after their hide which meant that someone must have noticed that they were on their own. Normally Jesse and Hanzo would have been able to deal with them easily. But without arrows, an injured archer and six bullets left in his revolver, Jesse knew that they probably wouldn’t make it out of the city alive. It was quite disturbing how natural that thought came to him. He'd been in the same situation too many times already.
“Just a bit further. You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” he wheezed. If Hanzo had heard him, he didn’t comment on the nickname. Not that he’d have been able to know that it was not him Jesse was talking to, but the wolf running beside him. Said beast didn’t respond as she panted, exhaustion visible by the way her tongue hung from her mouth.
He would pet and snuggle her to death if they made it out of here. Never had she shared her senses with him so many times with so little time in-between. But she knew that his bullets were running out and that meant that every shot had to count.
Nonetheless, even she wasn’t almighty.
The moment Jesse took a bullet to his left calf, he crumbled like a wet paper towel. He barely managed to get his arm under him and halt their descent before Hanzo’s head connected with the ground. His world came to a stop.
Growling and angry barks were all he heard in that second. Something whizzed past him, fast, red and livid with hatred.
Jesse quickly turned towards the direction the shot had come from, heart stopping when he saw his wolf, his beautiful, strong wolf, ripping through the throats of the offenders, blood spraying everywhere.
His breath stuttered when he watched two bodies flop onto the ground, with his wolf standing on top of them, snarling and growling in anger. He could have sworn that her eyes glinted red, but it could also have been a trick of the light. She trotted back towards him, growls dying down and much slower than before. Blood was still dripping from her jaw when she pressed her nose to his shoulder, asking if he was okay.
The weight on his shoulder shortly forgotten, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized his situation.
“Hell,” he muttered, “yer could have told me that you could do that, sweetheart.”
“McCree?” A familiar voice mumbled behind his back. “What happened?”
His wolf stepped back. Jesse grunted in pain as he shifted the dead weight of his comrade, scrambling to his feet. The blood spurting out of his calf was the only warning he got before his entire leg gave in, shot nerve endings going up in flames, seemingly burning him from the inside out. He barely managed to keep the scream in, wheezing as he rode out the pain. Still, he dragged himself and Hanzo towards the safety of an abandoned car, seeking cover behind it.
Only then did he let go of the archer, dropping him not so carefully onto the concrete floor and propping him up on the car’s side. Exhausted and in pain, he did the same, taking the seat next to Hanzo, breathing heavily. A soft whine pulled him back, managing to pull him away from the agony that he called leg.
“Fine,” he rasped, peeking at the wolf from behind his lashes. “I’m fine. Just… a scratch.”
It wasn’t a scratch and they both knew it. Somewhere in his calf was a bullet, grating against muscle and bone. It wasn’t life threating but painful nonetheless.
Hanzo stirred to his right, regaining awareness with the lack of nauseating movement. Jesse watched him, working through the spasms running up and down his leg. His wolf growled, looking at something behind the car they used as cover.
Not good.
“McCree here,” he slurred into the communicator. “Can anybody read?”
“Jesse!” An anxious voice answered. Lena, if his brain didn’t play tricks on him. “We can’t see you from up here! Where are you? Are you at the landing zone? The city is swarming with Talon agents. We have to-”
“Slow down, darling,” Jesse cut in, inspecting his revolver with his free hand. “Hanzo and I… we’re not coming.” There was an ominous silence on the other end. “We’re stuck on the main street. I got a busted leg, Hanzo can’t walk and we’re surrounded.” Jesse had been in desperate situations several times. But this might just be the worst. Maybe because it wasn’t just his but also Hanzo’s death he was responsible for.
There was no way they would survive this. Landing the dropship in the middle of the street would be suicide. “I’ve got six shots left. It ain’t much, but I’ll take some of those bastards with me.”
“McCree-” Winston cut in. Another pause. “We will get you out. Hold on.”
“It’s alright, big guy,” Jesse said, voice strained. “Take care of the others. McCree out.”
With that, he pulled out his communicator, setting it carefully beside him onto the ground.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Hanzo said quietly, eyes closed and breathing just a tad too quick.
“Yer shit when it comes to the part where you say ‘Thank you’,” McCree retorted, patting down his pockets. To his dismay, there was no cigar left. He sighed and sunk against the car. “Ain’t gonna leave my team behind. Never have and never will.”
The archer hummed. Apparently, he wasn’t the type to bicker when he was standing on death’s door. Jesse pulled off the bow from his back, pressing it into Hanzo’s cold hands. His fingers instinctively wrapped around it, sighing in content. He truly was a warrior.
Movement to his left caught his eyes. It was his wolf, slowly walking towards him. Now that he got a moment of peace, he could see the limp in her steps. The bullet hadn’t just wounded him then.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he whispered, holding out his hand. She sniffed at it before snuggling into it. He didn’t care if Hanzo saw him petting the air and talking to an illusion. Death had eluded him so many times, but if this was really it, he wanted to spend every second with his closest friend.
“Yer up for one last time? How about it, darling? Will yer help me make those six shots count?”
She pressed against his hand, closing the distance between them. The wolf buried her muzzle into his neck, licking at his skin affectionately. Jesse chuckled taking hold of her head with both hands. He pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes in a moment of peace.
“I know, sweetheart, I know. I love you too.”
She whined softly in response, holding still for just a moment.
The moment was broken when several gunshots penetrated the other side of the car. Jesse grabbed his gun quickly, left hand still resting on his wolf’s head.
“Let’s-”
The pressure on his hand vanished. Surprised, he looked at his wolf, watching how she slowly backed away, retreating, parting from him, leaving him.
Golden eyes.
“…Sweetheart?”
Her ears were pressed to her head, her tail between her legs.
She looked…sorrowful.
He reached out as far as his leg would allow him.
“Sweetheart? What are you doing? Where are you going?”
Golden drops… turning blood red.
“McCree! Call her back!”
Her red fur turned golden, golden marks turned red.
She fletched her teeth, white rows of sharp daggers glinting in the sunlight. Her fur stood on end, her claws scraped against the concrete.
It burned.
Jesse’s chest burned like a raging fire. He fell forward, choking on the sensation. He could only watch as she looked at him with those crimson eyes. He could only watch as she jumped over the car in one leap. He could only watch as she left.
She left.
She left.
He could feel her ripping through the throats of their enemies. He could taste their blood in his mouth. He could-
A hand shaking his shoulder brought him back.
“…Cree! McCree! Get a hold of yourself!” Hanzo yelled to the best of his capabilities. The gunshots hitting the car had stopped. Instead, there was shouting and gunfire on the other side of their cover. On the side where his wolf was fighting.
He scrambled up, ready to stand up and join her, but a hand grabbed his serape and pulled him back down.
“I have to-”
“She is fighting for your life, McCree!” Hanzo shouted, pushing him into the car. “If you die, she will die as well!”
The yells and growls in the back were like poison to his heart. The burning grew fiercer with every second.
“I know!” Jesse spat, desperately gripping at the other man’s clothes. “But I can feel her dying! I can feel her dying, Hanzo! I have to-”
His vision blurred and he screamed in agony when something inside him tore. Hanzo reached out with his one good arm and put it on Jesse’s shoulder. And just like that, Jesse fell apart. He held onto Hanzo, crying and screaming with each pull at his heart, with each part of her that was ripped away from his chest.
He was losing her.
He was losing her and he could do nothing about it.
He never heard the gunshots subside. All that was left was the burning in his chest and the gaping hole expanding with every breath he took. Only when Hanzo pulled at him, he looked up, tears staining his face. When Jesse sprang up this time, Hanzo let him go.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, Jesse limped around the car, breath catching in his throat as he caught sight of the street.
So much blood.
So many bodies.
Jesse needed several moments to spot a red pile of fur lying in the middle of them. It wasn’t moving.
He stumbled towards it, dropping to his knees wheezing and panting. The golden fur was gone. All that was left was the red fur he loved so much, matted in blood. Her golden eyes didn’t greet him this time. They were closed, unmoving and… dead.
God, there was so much blood.
His eyes prickled with fresh tears when he slowly reached out, hesitating a few more heartbeats before he carefully laid it onto the soft fur of her neck.
“…Sweetheart…?”
His fingers brushed over her fur, wincing every time he found a new wound.
He hadn’t known that she was able to bleed.
He scratched her behind the right ear. The left had been ripped off halfway, leaving a bloody stump behind. He stroked her head fondly, hands trembling when he noticed that her marks were hidden due to the blood coating her fur.
“Come on, babygirl…” he whispered brokenly, “Don’t do this to me.”
His fingers found the spot under her chin she enjoyed so much. “I was supposed to be the reckless one.”
A soft whine.
His heart jumped when he saw a sliver of golden eyes. Tired and broken, yet still alive.
“Hey there, darling,” he mouthed, forcing a strained smile onto his lips as fresh tears welled up. She didn’t respond, too exhausted to move. Her breaths were shallow and short, catching every now and then.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Jesse laid her head ever so carefully on his lap, never ceasing to pet her. He leaned down, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, fear spiking with every missed breath.
He never noticed how Hanzo sat down several feet away from him, Peacekeeper in hand.
He never saw how Winston, Lena, Angela and Genji arrived.
The first thing he registered besides the agony of watching his wolf die, was Genji’s voice.
“Brother! Where is Jess-”
He didn’t look up, too afraid of what would happen if he were to lose sight of that golden orb, of that precious lifeline. Some hushed words were exchanged behind his back and then Genji crouched down beside him, heavy hand falling onto his shoulder. He flinched but refused to sit up, protectively leaning over his wolf.
“Jesse,” Genji said calmly, “we have to go.”
He shook his head, carefully stroking the beast’s head. “I ain’t gonna leave her,” he slurred, “I ain’t gonna leave her to die alone.”
The grip on his shoulder hardened. “Jesse.”
The sternness in Genji’s voice made him finally look up. He stared into brown orbs, not unlike his own. His throat burned when his eyes refused to spend any more tears.
“Please,” Jesse whimpered, “Please help her...”
Something in Genji’s look gave away and Jesse could see his eyes flicker to the broken form of his wolf. He could see how the ninja fought against his own inner turmoil, but finally, he bowed his head in defeat.
Genji’s voice wasn't more than a whisper and Jesse might have missed it if it weren’t for the eerie silence around them. But the words were more powerful than anything Jesse had heard in his life.
“There is a way.”
Before Jesse could fully comprehend his words, a bloody hand gripped Genji’s shoulder, clamping down on it hard and forcing him to take a step back.
“Genji, no!” Hanzo growled as the archer struggled to keep standing, vision still spinning from the concussion. But the fierceness in his eyes was as sharp as ever. The archer spoke with such sincerity, that there was no doubt that he knew more than he’d initially let on. The ninja didn’t waver at the words of his brother. Instead, he reached out for his sibling, holding his upper arm to keep him steady.
“Brother,” he said softly as if to soothe a frightened animal, “Such loss is far greater than you can imagine. It is worse than anything death could provide.”
Hanzo flinched at the words, his grip on his brother’s shoulder loosening. Jesse had yet to get through to the stubborn archer, but even he knew that those words had cut him deeper than any sword could.
“I never meant… to hurt you this deeply,” he answered, taking a wavering step back as if he could hurt his brother with his mere presence. Whatever it was that had spurred Hanzo on to interfere, had died within in the next breath.
Genji simply nodded in understanding, the urge to soothe his brother rising. But he knew that there was little time, so he quickly turned back to his friend, who was still cradling his dying wolf in his arms. Jesse looked at him brokenly with pleading eyes, urging him to help his suffering beast with his whole being. The ninja felt the dragon inside him stir, memories of the familiar pain clutching at his heart, threatening to take him under.
“It might kill you both,” Genji said carefully, knowing full well that Jesse wouldn’t be deterred by such words.
“I don’t care,” the cowboy responded in the same heartbeat, his fingers burying themselves into the bloody fur of his lifelong companion.
The next few minutes were lost to Jesse’s memories. He recalled being told to hold onto his wolf and to never lose his grip on her, thus it was the only way to keep her anchored to this world. The next thing Jesse remembered, he was sitting on the floor of the transport ship, cold and unforgiving steel beneath him while his team busied themselves around them. He continued to soothe his sweetheart with all the sweet nothings in the world he could come up with, fearing that every breath she took could be her last. Only when he heard Mercy’s sharp gasp somewhere in the background, he could briefly bring himself to listen to his surroundings.
“Genji, I-”
“Angela,” the ninja interrupted softly, the following words lost as the engines roared to life. Then the cyborg was crouching beside Jesse, fingers hovering over his wolf’s white front paw, just shy of touching it.
“Jesse,” he said firmly, catching the cowboy’s eyes with his own, “do you remember how this happened?”
“I lost my arm.” His voice was scratchy and it hurt to speak, but he forced the words out nevertheless.
“You two are connected,” Genji continued, “Every time you are sad, she is sad. Every time you are in pain, she is in pain. And every time you get hurt, she hurts as well.”
Jesse nodded. He’d known that for a long time. Ever since the day she shared her senses with him, he knew that there was more to the whole thing than just a simple trick of the mind. He couldn’t quite name it, but he knew there was something nonetheless.
But now, now when his wolf was bleeding out and barely holding onto her life in his arms, he couldn’t feel anything. As if something had been ripped apart. As if he’d lost this special something he couldn’t quite name. All that was left was that gaping hole in his chest, slowly killing him from the inside because she wasn’t there to fill it.
She’d left him.
She’d left him and now he struggled to keep the splintering pieces of himself together by holding his sweetheart to remind himself that she was not gone. Not yet.
By God, he would do anything to keep her from losing that sparkle in her beautiful eyes. To keep her waging that bushy tail of hers whenever he called her over for her well-deserved dose of cuddling when they were finally alone.
But now she’d closed him off. He knew that because she was riddled with bullets, barely breathing as it was and he couldn’t feel a thing. If there ever had been something which connected them as far as to share pain, it was lost. What other explanation was there if he couldn’t feel her pain the first time she got injured in his stead?
“She’s gone.” The cowboy shook and his voice began to quiver, realizing the gravity of his words with every syllable. “I can’t-”
“Jesse,” Genji interrupted his pitiful attempt to explain himself, “She is not gone. She has never left you. Has she ever failed to be there when you needed her the most? Has she ever forsaken you?”
Jesse shook his head sharply, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks, burning his freezing skin.
“She is not dying because of her physical wounds,” his friend went on, “She is dying because she tore the bond connecting her to you to keep you out of harm’s way. She wanted to save your life.”
“I don’t wanna be safe!” Jesse cried out in desperation. “I want her to be by my side! I don’t care if she hurts me! I don’t fucking care if it kills me! How many times have I hurt her? How much pain has she gone through because of my stupid ass? I’d rather die with her than dying alone!”
“Then take her back.” Genji laid his hand on Jesse’s. “She is your spirit. Even if she broke the bond, you can remake it.”
His throat constricted painfully as his breathing hitched. “I… I can…?” Jesse muttered in disbelief, his heart rate picking up at the smallest sign of hope.
“All that is keeping her here now is you,” Genji said sternly, “Show her the way back and she will follow.”
“How?!” Jesse pleaded urgently, his body tingling in anticipation, in longing, in need.
Genji let go of his hand. “Remember the most intimate moment you shared. The moment in which nothing around you mattered. The moment you could feel her inside you. The moment you shared one and the same body. And then, call her.”
Jesse’s eyes fell back to the crumbled form of his wolf. It was almost too easy to recall the exact moment Genji had described. It was so simple, that he almost laughed in delight. It was one of the most precious memories he shared with his wolf. It still felt like it had been mere moments ago whenever she would brush against his legs to let him see the world through her eyes. It all started the moment he’d knelt before her between old newspapers and trash cans, bullets riddling the pavement of the dusty alleyway. The moment nothing around them mattered as soon as he locked eyes with her. That beautiful gold of her eyes was engraved into his memory. He could still feel her warm breath tickling his cheek. He’d been at peace when he closed his eyes.
And then, when he’d opened them, she’d vanished. But his heart had been so full. It had been so warm and gentle, yet he’d felt her energy coursing through him as they’d become one.
What a wonderful feeling it had been. Like the warm embrace of a mother, yet much more powerful.
This wonderful being he’d yet to name.
His sweetheart.
His darling.
His wolf.
When he opened his eyes, she was gone. But she was there. He could feel her energy flowing through him, however little there was left. It was still fresh and new, but so familiar.
He looked up, meeting Genji’s brown orbs with a smile, a tear running down his cheek in gratitude. Gratitude towards him. Gratitude towards his wolf. Gratitude that she was willing to come back to this awful human being he was.
He didn’t care that the real world dimmed in colour and sound. He didn’t care that he could feel the cold embrace of death as hands caught him when he toppled over.
All he could see was that beautiful crimson colour.
The same colour his wolf wore.
Finally, after twelve weeks of silently waiting, he saw those golden orbs again. Jesse had been working on putting the muscle back on he’d lost lying in the hospital bed. He had yet to get used to the constant pain whenever his body refused to move the way he wanted it to move. His wounds were healed, but there was the constant fear that he would never fully regain complete control.
He was still raw and vulnerable after the experience three months prior, but he tried to keep up the façade of the carefree cowboy with too much self-esteem. Should the other agents have seen through his act, they didn’t care to point it out. They didn’t say anything when he was blankly staring at his food until it had grown cold and tasteless. They didn’t mind overlooking his sudden emotional outbursts when he was upset with everything and anything. They didn’t mind him being just a little bit less Jesse than he was before.
But Jesse hated it.
So when he was sitting on the working bench, frustrated with himself that he couldn’t even crush a simple plastic bottle with his right hand, seeing the glint of gold on the other end of the workout room was truly a surprise. First, he thought he’d mistaken them for his wishful imagination – as it had happened countless times before – but then he really looked and he felt the familiar spark inside him.
“Sweetheart?” He whispered, the forgotten bottle dropping to the floor with a low thump.
The wolf blinked slowly. She didn’t move, sitting like a beautiful statue opposite of him. A statue with crimson fur and yellowish-white markings on her head. She was missing an ear and there were scars matching his where the fur had yet to regrow.
She was the most beautiful being in the world.
For the first time in his life, Jesse didn’t call for her. He didn’t usher her to his side like all the other times.
For the first time, it was Jesse who stood up. His steps were a tad too slow for his liking, but they were steady and determined. All that mattered at this moment was right before him.
His legs gave out when saw those golden orbs up close. His heart clenched in relief and he couldn’t help himself but embrace his wolf, his very being calling out for her. That uncanny red fur was as soft as he’d last remembered, the breath against his neck as warm as the hot winds of the desert.
How he had missed feeling her so close by. Feeling her by his side. How he had yearned for the feeling of being whole.
“Never do that again, ya hear me?!” Jesse sobbed, burying his face into the soft fur as emotions finally overtook him.
She whined in kind, pressing her face into his neck, quietly howling at the familiar touch of her human. The human she'd saved so many times. The human who was willing to give up everything in order to be with her.
The day Jesse McCree died, he did so with a smile. On that day, it was a red wolf who showed him the way to the loved ones he’d lost along the way.
