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"There you are. My intuition told me that I might find you here."
Hanzo found McCree sitting slumped against a supply bin at the apex of the watchpoint, overlooking the endless sea. His signature hat and serape lay in a crumpled heap beside him as he was lost in thought, glued to the evening horizon. His gaze remained on the shimmering waters as he gave a distracted reply.
"I'm sorry 'bout missin' dinner. Wasn't hungry."
McCree sluggishly raised his prosthetic arm. As he examined it, Hanzo knew that he was witnessing a rare moment of insecurity. The cowboy slowly curled and unfurled his metal fingers as he inspected the new scratches added to the established collection on the shiny surface.
His confidence was fading. It seemed as if every mission in the last year had been a close call, a victory far from guaranteed. A bullet had grazed him that afternoon: a shot allowed by his own mistake. What should have been a killing blow to the head had instead veered into the target's shoulder. If the offender had noticed Hanzo at his flank, the round could have easily destroyed skin... or a skull.
McCree was the renowned sharpshooter, the legendary Deadeye; he wasn't supposed to miss. He couldn't afford to; not now, not ever. While Hanzo was exceedingly capable, he had placed his beloved in harm's way. McCree's normally booming voice retreated to a near whisper as doubt spread like wildfire inside him. For him, the one-off was inexcusable. Now, he questioned everything.
"Han... we've been on this ride for years now, you n' me. This stallion ain't what it used to be. Y’know you could have anyone in the world– someone who could give you a life without chaos. Don't cha want better?"
Hanzo clenched his fists as he pivoted away, offended by the question. His tone was severe as he scolded his significant other.
"You are spouting utter nonsense."
He paused as he struggled to express the emotions welling up inside him:
"That aside... You know full well that I cannot answer your absurd remark with mere words."
Hanzo walked over to speak with the gunslinger face to face. He stood over him, concerned, for a short time, hoping that McCree's umber eyes would instinctively meet his own as they always did. When they failed to do so, Hanzo went down on bended knee. McCree scoffed at the chivalrous gesture, blowing it off.
“What the hell are y-”
Hanzo's glare stopped his quip dead in its tracks. The archer's gaze was so intense that one could almost see the flames of his dragon soul blazing brightly behind the dark irises that commanded such attention.
"Listen well, you fool.”
With the cowboy silenced, Hanzo spoke with absolute purpose in his voice.
“Before we met, I was already attempting to escape forces far greater than law and order. Through my own actions, I had sentenced myself to a life that I would not force upon even my worst enemy… one of unbearable regret. You have given me a gift without equal; the ability to forget. My chains have been broken, banished to another place and time. In your company, I am reminded of who I am– not who I was.”
To McCree's surprise, Hanzo gently placed his right hand on his cheek, in a loving touch. To Hanzo, the sun-kissed skin and rough stubble against his palm were both warm and familiar, a source of comfort so many times before. He cherished the sight as he continued:
“Jesse… your existence is beyond the weapon you wield or the burdens you bear. It was on an evening like this that you stated such, if I am not mistaken. I have chosen my partner for my dances with death, and he is more than a man to me. If I was ever granted one wish? It would be to know that he felt the same.”
McCree closed his eyes in contentment as he raised his hand to join Hanzo’s. A calm surged through his veins, soothing his body. His heart was full as he softly chuckled.
“That’s my Hanzo alright. Can’t say anythin’ plainly, and beats around the bush with frilly words.
–Funny way to ask someone to marry ya, ain't it?”
Jesse McCree sighed in relief as he opened his eyes to see the man he held dear, the person whose worth was impossible to explain.
Hanzo Shimada held his breath as he waited for the voice that he so adored speak the words he longed to hear.
Once, they had been two drifters in an unforgiving world. With trust and time, they had become two halves of a whole.
The future was riddled with uncertainty. But, McCree would never let go of Hanzo's hand. It was his to have and to hold, til death did they part.
“You and your stuffy formalities… but, it does take two to tango."
He sealed his promise once and for all.
"I do."