Work Text:
Mercy didn‘t have to look up from her paperwork to know who was at her door. The sound of spurs always announced the arrival of Jesse McCree. He lets out a low whistle. “Well that ain’t fair, Miss Angie. Here I am lookin’ like an old leather bag and here you are as beautiful as you ever were.”
Mercy doesn’t look up at him, let alone acknowledge that he’s even there. She wasn’t ready to deal with this right now. He invited himself in anyway.
“C’mon Angie, don’t I at least get a hug?”
“I only give hugs to people that deserve them.” She knew she was acting like a child but she didn’t care. It had been five years since he disappeared and he didn’t even have the common courtesy to leave a note of explanation.
“Don’t be that way, darlin’. I missed ya somethin’ fierce.’”
“Not enough to contact me for five years it seems.” She scoffs.
“It...it’s complicated, Angie.” McCree didn’t want to open that can of worms.
“Please explain it to me then.” It was the first time she looked him in the face since he got there. He had more hair oh his face and some wrinkles but he was still the same handsome Jesse.
McCree gives a look of defeat. “Fine. He wouldn’t let me say goodbye.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Gabriel.”
“Why would he care about that?” Mercy was incredulous.
“‘Cause I knew what he was plannin’ on doing and I wanted nothing to do with it or the ensuin’ chaos. Had someone follow me so I wouldn’t alert anyone.”
“So you just allowed it to happen?”
“It was either that or death." He wasn’t telling her the whole truth and he never planned to. How do you tell someone that a person they considered a friend for 15 years had no problems using their life as leverage in order to keep their plans of a coup a secret?
“So what are you expecting? For things to just go back to what it was?” Part of her wanted him to say yes but she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Not expectin’ anything from you.” He really hadn’t expected anything. He knew she wouldn’t just run back to his arms no matter what his feelings were. He was kind of surprised he got this far with her. “We just need to teach the new recruits how to be heroes. Y’know, be all professional-like and not let our personal hang-ups cloud our judgement and whatever happens, happens.”
“I can agree to that.” Mercy was impressed by his maturity.
His self-care on the other hand...
“Do you even take care of your prosthetic?” She points to his left arm in disgust.
“Course I do!” McCree is offended by the accusation.
“Is that blood?”
“Ain’t MY blood.” He says a little too proud of himself.
She finds the hidden release button on his prosthetic and takes it off him. “It’s just so filthy. Frayed wires...the fact that you can still control it is a miracle. Go introduce yourself to the new recruits. I’m going to need a while with this mess.”
McCree knows he just said they needed to be professional, but it’s just too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Some time alone with my prosthetic, eh?” He muses, “Thought you always preferred my real hand.”
“Ugh, ficken arschloch!” She cusses as she’s walking away.
He can’t help but smile. His little angel is beautiful even when she’s cussing him out.