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Jesse McCree had never been particularly good at building walls. Keeping distant, uninvolved, just wasn’t who he was, whether he was trying or not.
Years ago, sitting bruised and defiant in a Blackwatch holding cell he’d told himself that this was just a temporary stay. He’d work enough to get the commander off his back and at first opportunity he’d be out the door. Not back to Deadlock, but far from the rules and red tape of an organization like Overwatch.
And yet he found himself being treated not with the suspicion and disdain that he expected, but with more the bemused watch of a parent with a particularly stubborn and unruly child. Like the expectation they had of him was less hardened criminal and more dumbass teenager who just happened to run with a gang. Which in retrospect was all he was. It’s not to say the second chance they offered came no strings attached, but rather that they handed the ends of the strings to him instead of tying him up with them. Whether he held on or not, the choice was up to him.
He found himself holding on tighter than he could have ever imagined.
He settled in. Enjoyed shooting the shit with Reyes, getting into trouble with Genji, and on one memorable occasion watching Moira drink him under the table. The sense of camaraderie without it ever feeling forced. He liked Ana pointing out every flaw in how he had ever held a gun, because she would always tell him how to fix it and every compliment she offered was genuine praise. He loved Fareeha. She quickly became the little sister he’d never had and even when she bugged the crap out of him he loved her for it. He even liked Angela’s nagging about his smoking habit. He wasn’t about to quit but the genuine care behind the criticism was refreshing. An attitude that not only hoped but expected him to live a long and healthy life.
So when it all came apart - in blunt tensions, derailed missions, killed in action reports, and one final bloody explosion - he tried to promise himself never again. He’d had his shot at a family of sorts but now that was done. Riding solo was more a cowboys style anyway. Right?
He should have known it wouldn’t last.
Tracer and Angela had beat him to Gibraltar, though he’d been on route within an hour of the recall. There hadn’t been a moment of hesitation when the message came through. For him at least. He’d been operating outside the law for a while now, this was just another line to cross. He quickly gathered that Reinhardt was on his way, Torbjörn’s youngest in tow. Which was bringing Torbjörn himself out of the woodwork. Messages came through from Genji as well, letting them know to expect him, some omnic monk he’d met, and of all people, his brother. That would certainly be an interesting group and he made a mental note to be around when they arrived.
The rest was things like cleaning, making what parts of the watchpoint Winston hadn’t been using habitable again. Or outreach, since Winston had found several potential new recruits, though as this was an illegal venture any contact would have to be carefully done.
And despite the missing faces, and the steady trickle of faces both new and old, McCree found himself settling back in. In fact, most everyone seemed to have at least found a comfortable niche in the new Overwatch. All but one really, and McCree didn’t figure there was much he could do to help in that department. Time and talking would have to sort that out.
A quiet evening found him lounging against an old comms tower, looking out over the bay as it was gilded by the evening light. As much as he was enjoying being back, sometimes it helped to just get away from it all, take a moment alone to relax.
Apparently he wasn’t alone in that desire, as he heard the distinctive sound of someone climbing the wall of the building the tower was built on. A surreptitious glance told him it was Hanzo, but he kept his back to him fixing his gaze back on the distant waves.
“Evenin’.”
Despite his greeting, the air remained as tense as it usually did between the 2 of them. After all, McCree knew what Hanzo had done, and Hanzo knew that he knew. Even though Genji had asked McCree to give his brother a chance, that knowledge made things awkward.
“My apologies. I didn’t know anyone was up here.”
Quiet as it was, McCree could just make out the sound of his hesitant step backwards, as if Hanzo wasn’t sure if he should leave. Remembering Genji’s request, he sighed.
“Well don’t leave on my account. Plenty of roof for the both of us.”
In his peripheral he saw Hanzo move up to the other side of the tower, noting the tension of his stance, the awkward silence that now hung between them. And more to break that silence than anything, he asked. “Wanna smoke?”
To his surprise, Hanzo quietly accepted, and there was an odd moment of peace between them as he watched the first drag release an inch of the tension in Hanzo’s shoulders.
“It’s strange being back here.” McCree said quietly into that almost companionable silence. A truth he hadn’t admitted to anyone else. “Especially with so many missing faces.”
Hanzo hummed, an almost agreement to a statement that he had no relation to. An acknowledgement of hearing, of almost sympathy. “It is odd for me as well.” he admitted after a moment, “Though I’m sure you know well enough that it’s a bed of my own making.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he told me about you.” he turned and Hanzo met his stare unwavering, pride and shame all in one. A small smile crept over his face as he continued, “Not sure if it was petty revenge or just being a younger sibling that made him share about the time you managed to sneeze ramen out of your nose but he told me anyway.”
The noise Hanzo made was part way between an squawk of indignation and a snort of laughter. It dissolved what was left of the tension between them and left a comfortable silence while they finished smoking.
“He wants you here, you know?”
Hanzo looked over, but McCree kept his eyes on the water.
“It took some convincing for Winston to even say yes. Even I wasn’t sure if it was the best idea, regardless of whether he’d forgiven you or not.”
“And now?”
He finally looked back over at Hanzo, smiling, “Now? Well I think you’ll learn to fit in just fine.” As he said it he thought he saw the faintest hint of an answering smile on Hanzo’s face.
So McCree wasn’t the best at building walls. No one ever said that was a bad thing.