Work Text:
It began here. Route 66.
Jesse wasn't even an adult at the time. Just a teen looking for money in the wrong places. Jesse stood in Big Earl's cafe, staring at the jukebox with a worn out road sign hanging on the wall above it. Somehow, even all these years later, music still played out of the machine. Even if it wasn't the great of quality. Jesse put in a coin and flipped through the selection, knowing exactly where the song he wanted to hear was.
Listening to the song any other day gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach, filling him with dread at the memory of hearing it at the cafe now. Today however, it gave him nostalgia. Memory of the song playing loudly in the background as guns rang out, bottles were smashed and screams of pain echoed. He should have been sad, mourning the lives of those who helped him shoot a gun, but he couldn't bring himself to it. The emotion would have been a lie. The Deadlock gang barely did a thing for him, only teaching him to point and shoot.
It was someone else who really taught him how to use a gun.
Jesse brought himself back to the present, his finger hovering over the button. With a quiet sigh he pressed it and took a step back, closing his eyes as the slow music started to play. He remembered the gang playing it as a joke, riling him up and going on about how terrible country music was. He told them he hadn't even heard the song before, but as it played he knew he already liked it. It was something he couldn't relate to until years later. When Overwatch was disbanded and he had no one to turn to. Being alone for so long had given him time to reflect, and even if he didn't listen to the song often, the words were forever embedded in his head.
We were friends, me and this old man
Like desperados waitin' for a train
Like desperados waitin' for a train
This day, this place, countless years ago, he was saved. It was odd to think of it like that. That day he was supposed to die. He knew it when the doors burst open, when he saw his comrades fell, when he stared down the barrel of a gun. He wasn't going to back down, and the man holding the gun knew that from his own people on the ground around them.
Then, to his surprise, the man put away his gun and offered his hand.
Jesse learned later his name was Gabriel Reyes, but he never called him that. He started off calling him "sir" which soon turned to "boss" which sometimes turned to "asshole."
It was only once he ever slipped up and called him "dad". It was during the time he was stuck in the medical hall from losing his arm. For the first few days he was weak, slipping in and out of consciousness at random intervals. He found himself waking up at one point to see Gabriel next to him, glancing up when he saw he was awake. He gave him a short, angry lecture of safety in the battlefield before embracing him tightly in his arms. The overwhelming amount of emotions Jesse felt made him exhausted again and he was quick to fall back asleep, but before he closed his eyes he look at Gabriel with a smile.
"Thanks, dad."
Jesse couldn't remember what he thanked him for. Maybe Reyes had said something to him before he passed out. Maybe he was just thanking him for everything. Giving him a second chance and showing he could be a good guy. Didn't matter in the end. When Jesse woke up the next time Reyes acted like it never happened, and Jesse went along with it.
And I was just a kid
They all called his "Sidekick"
Like desperados waitin' for a train
Like desperados waitin' for a train
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose, bringing himself back to the present. He was leaning on the jukebox, trying to feel the music through the giant machine. Sadly, it was far too ancient to give off anything besides sound. Jesse looked around, playing through the day he met Gabriel over and over. How fast he had gone from terrified to grateful towards the man.
When the song finished he glanced to the jukebox, deciding whether or not to play the song again. He let out a huff of amusement and got up, walking out the door. He was getting too nostalgic for his age. Outside the remains of the broken track and train still lay outside the building, parts of it still somehow steaming. He was thankful none of it had fallen on the cafe or his trip out would have been pointless. He climbed through the wreckage, glancing over at the cliff side and wondering how far down it went. Given that he couldn't see the bottom, he assumed it was pretty dang far. He turned back up the path in front of him, and upwards. A thin wooden railing (or bridge, though it was a pretty pointless bridge if that was what it was) was resting above at the turn of the path.
On top of the bridge was a shadow.
Jesse couldn't see well from the sun glaring down, but he could at least see the figure of a person. Someone he didn't hear or see coming at all. Not wanting to shoot a civilian he simply rested his hand on Peacekeeper, ready to shoot at a moments notice. Given his reputation there was a good chance it wasn't any old average joe up there.
Before his eyes the figure seemed to disappear in smoke, leaving no trace they were ever there. Immediately Jesse figured out who it was. He'd heard the others talk about him recently, someone coming after him and the rest of the crew trying to bring back Overwatch. He hadn't expected someone as dangerous as Reaper to just appear in the middle of the day.
With his hand gripped on his gun he gave a quick glance in all directions before swiveling around, aiming his gun at the mercenary. Reaper laughed, putting his hands in the air.
"Easy, cowboy, I'm not here for a fight."
Jesse snorted.
"You always come out here for a midday stroll?"
The figure was silent, staring at him with no movement. In the bright light Jesse could see all the details on Reaper's mask, the lines and the dents from who knew how many fights. Jesse cocked his gun.
"What're you here for if not for a fight?"
Reaper lowered his hands, taking a couple steps forward.
"Same reason you're here, mijo."
Jesse narrowed his eyes, taking a small step backwards.
"'The hell do you think I'm here for, cabrón?" Reaper laughed, turning his head to look at the cafe behind him.
"There was a time you were scared to call me anything less than "sir", you know." Jesse scowled.
"I can't say I recall such a time, since I've never met your ugly ass before." Reaper gave a small sound of amusement.
"What would he say about you now?" Jesse glared.
"What who would say?"
"You know who I'm fucking talking about, mijo. The man you came here to mourn. What would he say if he saw you now? A wanted man, trying to clear his name and his bounty." He turned his attention back to Jesse.
"Sounds familiar. Maybe that's why you came back here. You just can't forget about the past."
A shot rang out, barely scraping the edge of Reaper's mask. Jesse glared at him from under his hat.
"If you're not here for a fight then you've got to be here to talk, so get to it. 'Cause so far, I ain't heard one word to convince me to not put a bullet in your skull."
Reaper let out a low laugh.
"You didn't hear it, did you mijo?"
"Stop calling me that!"
"Why?" He stepped closer, "That's what you are to me. Pretty sure you called me "dad" first."
Jesse's eyes widened, wondering if the pieces that were coming together was true. Reaper grabbed his mask and pushed it off his face, resting it on top of his head.
"Guess you passed out before you heard me call you "son."
Gabriel's face was missing skin, smoke pouring out from the open holes and his exposed bone, but Jesse still knew his face. What remained of Gabriel's face hadn't aged a day, and Jesse felt older and younger than his age at the same time. Slowly, he lowered his gun back into its holster.
"D... Reyes?" He choked out, stopping himself from saying the first word that came to his mind. The corner of Gabriel's mouth twitched up.
"The night I was there beside you, when you called me dad," he laughed, "I couldn't think of a damn thing to say at first." He stepped closer to Jesse.
"But it became obvious quickly. And I said "You're welcome, mijo"."
Jesse felt water build up in the corner of his eyes and ignored the urge to wipe it away. He smirked, letting out a small laugh.
"Never took you as someone that dwelled on the past." Reyes shrugged.
"I'm not. But you are. Always were."
His body moving before his thoughts, Jesse filled the space between them and wrapped his arms around Gabriel, squeezing him in a tight hug. Gabriel hesitated before hugging back, smirking in amusement.
"Aren't you too old to be this sappy?"
Jesse gripped on to Gabriel's clothes.
"Not for you, dad."