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Her hands performed miracles. He was sure of it.
He wondered how soft they were, and how they would feel under his own calloused ones. Those hands of hers were small enough to easily fit into his. And yet they worked their magic, patching up the wounded and even damn near bringing people back to life.
Although he spent the majority of his time with his missions on Blackwatch, Jesse McCree sometimes found himself thinking about this blonde woman, working away in her office, treating her patients or laughing at a story her co workers recounted. They talked at times, but it was as though both of them sensed there was something indescribable between them. They weren’t lovers, but he definitely held feelings that was more than friendship for her. Every time she ruffled his hair playfully, or whenever they slightly touched as they passed each other, or whenever she raised an eyebrow when he gets flirty with some of the male and female co-workers, or the furtive glances they exchanged when they felt no one was looking their way.
There was not much he can do on base, so he either practiced on his guitar, watched television, or practiced the training Reyes put him through. But on the quiet days, he would take his guitar and sit by the tree across from Angela’s clinic window. There, he could take glances at her while he strummed his fingers over the strings, imagining instead his hands stroking over her soft ones. It kept on like that for as long as he was on Blackwatch, but Angela Ziegler managed to give him one of the many reasons to not grow resentful of the organization that basically blackmailed him to work under them.
Nowadays, Jesse could feel the tension building inside the organization. As soon as they let Reinhardt go, it was as though the entire world jumped down their throats. Blackwatch was under threat of being investigated and it meant McCree was at risk of being prosecuted of the things he had done under their jurisdiction. The protests increased, and calls for Overwatch’s dismissal suddenly became a possibility. But to make it worse, the infighting drove him mad. Reyes and Morrison became more at odds with each other, with people taking sides and with him right in the middle of it all. He agreed to fight against adversaries, not with other people he worked with. So, with deep consideration, he resolved to leave the organization.
But what made him worry the most was that the stress clearly affected Angela. As the chaos grew, she planted a false smile on her face, went to work without saying much and stayed in her clinic most of the time. She immersed herself further into her projects, away from all of the fighting to avoid picking a side. Jesse could have sworn that he caught her facade breaking, but she sooner fixed it with a neutral emotion faster than you could say faster than you could say succotash.
Needless to say, she would be the one he’d miss the most.
With his things packed and his locker cleaned out, Jesse slung his belongings over his shoulder and left towards the entrance. It was night, and most of Overwatch was in deep slumber and silence. As quietly as he could, Jesse walked down the hallways, thinking that he was never able to say goodbye to everyone. But after that heated fight with Reyes, he grit his teeth and kept on going.
“Jesse...”
His spurs stopped clinking as he paused in his tracks. Beside him, Angela stood in the light of the doorway behind her, her arms around each other and her eyes gazing toward him.
“Angela,” he sighed.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you...” She never said it as a question.
After a few moments, he turned to face her, but lost his words when he saw her blotchy cheeks, and her eyes were still red and wet.
“Angela? Ange what’s wrong?” he asked, dropping his things onto the floor and dashing to her. As a gentleman, he hated to see girls cry, but seeing her like this almost wrenched his heart out. It suddenly frightened him that him leaving might be the cause of her distress.
“I’m so sorry. Here you are, trying to leave and I’m just here crumbling into a mess,” she sniffled, wiping away any tears threatening to spill over. With her lips pursed, shoulders rigid and eyes hard, she was clearly keeping her emotions in check. Jesse rubbed the corners of her shoulders, prompting her to talk more.
“It’s just...I can understand why you’d leave, honestly. Everyone’s at odd with each other, Reyes and Morrison look like they’re about to tear each other apart at any moments notice, the United Nations might have an inquiry into Overwatch’s activities, and everyone could feel that it’s all about to end soon. They all know, but they don't want to say it. I can't say it. It feels like I have to keep appearances up, just so there's some normalcy in this wreck.
"I've listened to just about anyone that wanted to talk or rant. And yet, I can't talk to someone about this. Morrison counts on me, Ana counts on me, and everyone else is busy dealing with their own problems. I don't want to burden them with my own. But then, at least you got your solution in dealing with this. You're a man of action, and I'm a woman of words."
"It's not your job to look after everyone. You're just one person, not a machine," Jesse said, his tone soft. "What's between Morrison and Reyes got nothin' to do with you. You don't have to bear all this stress just because. You're too good and too kind for that. I'm surprised you didn't break down sooner.
"I've seen you Ange. Walking around like you're headin' to the gallows with your head down when you think no one's seen you. Bags under your eyes, body tense. You stopped laughing - a real laugh - ,"he reiterated after catching her skeptical look, "and you're holed up in that clinic all day, rarely coming out. This drama isn't good for you, it isn't good for me...it's tearing us apart."
Even under the dim light from the room, Jesse could see Angela’s eyes, with their renewed watery glaze, gaze into his own. And every time he saw them, he always enjoyed staring into them. Without warning, he slowly pulled her into his arms and held her there. Soon he felt her sobbing into his chest, her small hands grasping his back.
“Where did everything go so wrong? I thought we were all doing a good thing,” she said, her voice cracking. “And now everyone’s leaving and...to be honest, I don't know if I can keep this up -”
“Come with me, darlin’.”
She stopped talking and looked back up at Jesse, taken aback.
“What? But Jesse, I don’t know if I should -”
“You and I both know that you hate violence and, given the chance, you would close down Overwatch yourself if you wanted. Don’t tell me you never once thought about leaving this place behind.” Jesse lifted up her hands and cupped them in his, gently rubbing his fingers over hers. “It's nice that you're thinking of everyone else's interests, but you need to take of yourself first. You can go anywhere else if you wanted, you’re a miracle worker with these hands, and that brain of yours. Hell, you can come with me back to New Mexico, work at a hospital...”
A slight smile played on her lips as she stared at their hands entwined together. They never noticed that they stood like that for minutes that seemed like hours, years even. It was the closest they have ever gotten with each other, and both quietly relished in each other’s company, away from the insurmountable turmoil broiling inside Overwatch. Jesse kept staring at her pink lips, fighting down the urge to capture them into his, savor her taste and feel her soft body melt into his and never let go.
She sighed. “As lovely as that sounds, I have to stay.” Her expression saddened at McCree’s resigned response. “You make good points, and I would love to go with you. But, they do need me here.I have a job, if not to Overwatch then to the world. Besides, even though I don’t agree with what they do in the name of ‘justice’, Overwatch still does some good for others. It's allowed me to spread the peace I want, the help people need in this war-obsessed world.”
Swallowing, Jesse nodded. Without thinking about it, he closed his eyes and met his forehead against hers. “Don't get me wrong. I don’t have anything against them as a whole. I just don’t want them dragging you down in the flames with them.”
Angela gave a small smile and held his cheek. “You're always such a sweetheart. But, I’ll be okay. I’ll always be okay in the end. Just be careful out there. Please?” she asked gently.
Reluctantly, their hands let go of each other and Jesse picked his stuff back up. Fixing his hat onto his head, he glanced back at her to make sure she wasn’t crying anymore. Her eyes still bore into his as she kept smiling sadly.
“I’ll miss you, Jesse.”
“I’ll miss you too, Ange. Good luck, and you take care of yourself here. I'm serious.”
"I will, cowboy."
He gave a lazy salute and left out the doors and into the brisk, chilly night air. He could feel a sinister foreboding, that something catastrophic will happen soon once he left those doors and never looked back.
But Jesse McCree couldn’t resist looking back as he turned his head, catching a glance of Angela through her window again, imprinting it hard into his mind so he could still remember it as he set out into the wide world once again.
Maybe she was right. As long as she was safe and at Overwatch, everything will turn out alright in the end, everyone would stop fighting and, when the dust settled, he would come back to her.
Right?