Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time you met Jesse McCree was during your first year at the medical bay.

It wasn't a surprise when you pulled black the blue curtain to see a young man strapped to the bed and gagged, drool dripping down the sides of his mouth.

He lay only in a simple pair of white briefs, giving you chance to give him a quick up and down. The first thing you noticed was the heavy tan lines on his neck and forearms giving him a bit of a comical appearance. The next was the smell that radiated off of him. Booze, dirt, and sweat.

“Are you an animal? Because you stink you like one.” You pick up the clipboard that lay next to the bed and gave him another glance. “Wait, I take that back. Winston takes showers and he's an animal.”

“Alright, Mr. McCree,” You flip through the pages in your clipboard as you continue your one sided conversation,”I'm here because Reyes has asked me to give you a quick exam and because I can't say no. So, cooperate and it'll be much easier for both of us. Okay?”

You gave a quick smile that quite didn't reach your eyes. His bloodshot eyes wildly flickered, taking in all of your face in. Probably to make sure he kills the right person once he's out of his restraints.

“Okay, let’s begin, Mr. McCree. If the answer is yes, blink twice. If the answer is no, blink once. Understood?

He blinks three times.

Little fucker, so that's how it's going to be.

“Are you 17 years of age?”

Two blinks.

“You’re from the state of New Mexico?”

Two more blinks.

“Have you taken any illegal substances in the past three days? Reyes says you were acting weird the day they locked you up.”

His eyes suddenly shoot to the upper right, a clear indicator of being in thought. Perhaps wondering if he should be honest with the doctor standing in front of him. And slowly but surely, his eyes drop back down to look at your face before blinking once.

“Regardless of your answer, you’re still going to get blood work done. I just wanted to see if you’d be honest about it.”

He rolls his eyes in response.

“Okay….Oh! Says here you're a Cowboy?” You let your right eyebrow shoot up, teasing him as you look down at him from his place on the bed.

He aggressive blinks twice, you give him small laugh in response.

“Alright then, next is your vitals. I’ll be checking your breathing, blood pressure, temperature, and a simple motor-control skills test.”

He raises an eyebrow and let's out a small groan.

“No, you’ll remain cuffed at all times, Mr. McCree.”

Through the exam, he remains quiet and surprisingly complacent. Only groaning and twitching in displeasure when the cold instruments touched his skin and when you pricked his finger, drawing out blood for testing.

“Any questions or concerns?” You remove the drool covered gag from his mouth, allowing him a moment to speak.

“There ‘s one concern, hun. I seem to ‘ave ‘is itch on my-” You slap back the gag on before he finishes his sentence.

Such a crude person.

“Alright then.” You make sure to tighten the gag extra tight, groaning at your rough handling. “I’ll send Reyes the data and someone will come in and take you back to your quarters. Have a good day, Mr. McCree.”

You slide the clipboard into the holder next the door for the next medical staff to see as you walk out the door, hoping to never see the cowboy ever again.

Chapter Text

The Second time you encountered Jesse McCree was a month later after he had formally joined Overwatch. It was always after Blackwatch missions that he waited bruised and bloodied for the next available medical staff.

And you made sure it was never you.

Jesse McCree was the boy your parents told you to stay away from - dangerous and uncomplacent. He was a young man who lived by one rule: kill or be killed. He had said to one of your nurses that he was going to change the world with Reyes.

You knew better than that, you knew he was just another gun at Reyes’ reach.

As you passed another window while you walked down the hall, you realized the sun was preparing for the night - hiding behind the horizon.

“Y’er face is too pur’tty fer’ you to be frownin’ like that, doc.” You sharply turn at towards the voice, their breath ghosting over your neck; shivers run down your spine. Without much thought, you raise your hand to swat away the offending face.

Rough fingers manage to snatch your wrist mid-flight.

“Darlin’, I hate to break it you but that slap wouldn’ even kill a fly.” His grasp is still tight on your wrist as he turns and pulls you close enough to see the day-old stubble on his cheeks and jaw.

“How about’a date? It can be y’er apology for almost takin’ out ma’ eye.”

“No thanks.” You tried to keep your voice leveled and cold, not wanting to show the flustered blush growing on your face - this was too intimate for two people who barely knew each other.

“Y’er a tough one, doc.” He lets his other arm wrap around your waist, bringing your body even closer. His belt uncomfortably brushing against your front. You let your hand rest on his shoulder, pushing back against him.

“You don't think I know that you've been fuーsleeping with MY nurses? I'm not stupid you know.” There was no way you would be taken down so easily. Not by this...mongrel.

“Ya don't know ‘at.” He whispers into your ear, stubble pricking your cheeks; liquor heavy on his breath.

Disgusting.

“Of course I do. The walls aren't sound proof, the camera outside of the room you stayed in showed my nurse going in and leaving an hour later. Also, the monitor in my office alerted me to your elevated heart rate.” Even though he's been caught red-handed, all he does it give his signature smirk.

The grip on your body finally loosens and you take the opportunity to make one final push to break yourself away from the grip. “Next time, keep your hands to yourself, McCree. You got that? I'll have Reyes hounding after your ass if you don't.”

And with that, you turn on your heels before you allow him a chance to retort. The clicking of your heels echoing throughout the hall as you make your way back to your office, heavy in thought.

It seemed that every encounter with this man was destined to leave you with a bitter taste.

Chapter Text

Before heading back to your office for the night, you see the three young Blackwatch operatives. Two of them dragging what you suspect to be a drunk McCree. You probably should have asked one of the nurses to have fetched your coffee for you, now you had to deal with this mess of a man yourself.

There’s half dried blood running from his nose to drip from his chin, some settling and drying around his facial hair. The huge purple bruise that covered the area underneath his left eye lets you know that this was caused by a well-aimed hit to the face.

“Do I even want to know what happened to him?”

“He tried to sleep with bar owner’s daughter.” The one holding the drunk McCree answered, shrinking a little when your eyes found his.

There truly was no limits to this man. “Why am I not surprised? Follow me.”

As you led them to your office you noticed the group of nurses watching from their station. Was there anyone who this man had not slept with in this building? By god.

As soon as you entered the room, you stepped too close blinds but not before sending a glare to the Nursing team that sent them scattering in all directions.

Gesturing to the three men to throw McCree on the sofa, he drops like a ragdoll, deliriously mumbling to himself.

“Was it a full blown bar fight?” You let the water run before washing your hands and slipping gloves on.

“Well...yes.” Hesitation too clear in his voice, most likely not wanting you to paint a full picture of the situation McCree had gotten himself into.

You return to the sprawled McCree with a medkit in hand, placing it on the ground as you kneeled and took his face into your hands.

“Let’s see what we got here,” Moving his head from side to side, “Hmm, gash on the upper lip, nose isn't broken, bruising, and smaller cuts on the cheek bones.”

“Doc?” His bloodshot eyes land on you, his pupils fully blown open. All clear signs of intoxication.

“Mmm?” Dipping the cotton into the wound disinfectant. “McCree, listen to me. I'm going to clean the cuts on your face. Don't move.”

Slowly you move to soaked cotton over his cuts, you watch for signs of pain but no complains escape from his mouth. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep on you. Only after you finishing cleaning the dried blood with a warm washcloth does he opens his eyes again.

He stares at you without any shame of having been caught as you cup his face to adjust the bandage on his cheekbone. “You kno’ w’at, Doc? Ima’ marry you one of ‘ese days.”

You almost burst out into maniacal laughter while the other operative freeze, watching you for a reaction, almost certain you’d commit violence.

“I’m sure you will, McCree. Now get your ass out of my office.” You help his friends get him off the couch and onto his feet. They slowly hobble out of your office and hopefully out of your sights for a while.

Reclining into the chair, you take a sip out of your now cold coffee. You wonder how bad his hangover will be in the morning - probably should have given him some pills before he left.

Chapter Text

The door to your office opens to reveal a tired McCree, more than likely hungover from the previous night. How his liver was even functioning was a mystery to you and yet every single time the tests came back clean for any sort damage.

“Take a seat, we have something serious to talk about.” You let your hands rest on top of your desk, deciding to take a professional approach. Yet, internally you were building your confidence to take on the young McCree one-on-one.

“Wha’ could tha’ be, doc?” He says, taking his hat off and placing it on your desk. He takes a seat and reclines as far his seat would go. With a confident smile, he perches both his feet on the side of your desk letting you know he’s comfortable enough for you to start talking.

Cocky shit.

You place a manila colored file in front of him and slightly push it towards him, his eyes snap down from your face and onto the file. “We found highly illegal drugs in your system - again.” In other words, he would be required to take tests every week for the following months...in front of you.

The thought of having to see his pale ass cheeks made you shudder in disgust.

“Did ya’ now?” He replies, his tone care-free and it makes you question him as an agent - did he even give a fuck? Probably not.

“Yes, take a look at your blood work that we did after you came back from your most recent mission.” You pushed the file even closer to him, staring him dead in the eye, challenging him even to deny your statements.

“Say, doc, ya’ going to the Snow Ball?” He asks, completely throwing you off your game. He takes his feet off from your desk and slowly sits up, giving you his complete attention.

“I have to.” You really did have too, according to the “invitation” sent to you by Winston. You leave the comfort of your chair to retrieve the rest of the results from his other exams.

“Would ya’ care to be ma’ date?” Your head whips back so fast that for a second you fear you might have dislocated something in your neck. Did he just...?

“No.” Answering almost too quickly. There were plenty of operatives he could take to the ball, perhaps even have a good fuck afterward with them.

“Okay, pick ya’ up at eight.” And with a smirk and a wink, he picks his hat off the table, placing it on his head as he makes his way out of your office.

“McCree, I’m serious!” You slam the stack of files on your desk, not really wanting to deal with this shit today. There were prototypes of your new technology to be tested, notes to be revised, papers to be signed, medical equipment to be ordered but instead you had to confront this hurricane of a man.

“Well, so am I.” He manages to reply before slipping out the door, a cocky grin tugging on his face.

“Wait! Come back we’re not done talking!” But he’s already gone, leaving the room with a ‘hiss’ of the door.

Chapter Text

“Ana, could you please help me with the zipper on this sucker?” You look back your reflection in a large mirror, and you almost don't recognize the woman staring back. The colors of the dress flaunt your skin tone, and your assets receive a nice push upwards.

“Sure thing, dear.” And suddenly you wish you hadn’t eaten those donuts during the morning meetings, or those high-calorie meals at the base’s cafeteria. You’re a doctor for fuck’s sake.

A sudden hard tug from the back almost sends you face first into the mirror. “You look amazing, ready to capture the heart of some lucky boy tonight.” She takes a step back to admire your looks, and you can feel yourself puff up with pride as she holds your eyes.

“Hmm, but I already have someone in my sights.” You send her wink and a mischievous grin, and she lets out a laugh, knowing full well to who you were referring too.

“Haha, I was thinking someone...closer to your age?” She makes her way to the bathroom mirror and starts applying the lipstick that little Fareeha had chosen for her during her short stay on the base.

“Oh, really? And to who might you be referring to?” You place on your coat, and grab your bag off the living room floor, ready to head out for the night.

“I was thinking that young-” A hard knock on the door interrupts her before she finishes and instead goes back to polishing up her lipstick outline around her lips. “You should probably get that. Maybe it’s our young Angela’s date?”

Sliding the door open, you find a young man in a black waistcoat, white tie, clutching nervously at the rose in his waistcoat pocket. He’s probably more than nervous then he is willing to show after all it won’t be easy trying to impress one of the smartest women on base. You chuckle in your head, if you knew Angela, she’ll kick him to the curb before they even got in the car.

“Oh. Are you here for Angela? Let me call her, she’s probably still getting ready.” Stepping out of the way to let the young man in, you cup your mouth ready to holler for the young scientist that’s probably in her room peeling off her face mask.

“Hold up now, I reckon I’m lookin’ fer ya’, darlin’.” The man standing behind you drawls out in a familiar southern accent.

What the fuck?

Your head turns back to the young man by the door, his eyes young and held a glint of mischief. Oh, you knew this man alright.

“McCree?” You find it comical how unsure your voice comes out. His shaved face, and short hair done back into a cowlick almost fooled you.

“M’lady.” He tips his hat sends you a wink with his visible eye. Holy shit, did Angela forget to turn off the heater this morning?

This is where you would attempt a snarky remark at his getup for the night but the shock combined with your mild embarrassment leave you like a fish out of water: bulging eyes and a flapping mouth.

“Who is it?” Ana asks as she walks out of the bathroom, coat in hand. “Oh my, McCree, I must say you’re looking pretty good tonight. Are you here for Angela?”

“Actually, I’m ‘ere fer this missy.” He takes a step towards you, placing his hand on the small of your back causing a flash of heat to rise to your face. The sudden butterflies in your stomach set of your alarm bells because HOLY FUCK, you’re so not supposed to be feeling these warm feeling for him.

Ana sneaks a glance to the intimate touch and a smile almost manages to break on her face. “Is that so?” You can almost hear the grin in her voice, knowing full well how much you disliked the man standing next to you.

“Yes, Ma’am. Now if ya’ excuse us, we’ll be on our way.” With a tip of his hat, and a hand on your lower back, he pushes you toward the door.

“Wait, what?” You should really try to calm yourself, you think, you probably look like an idiot.

He suddenly pulls you closer, the faint smell of his cologne sends you around for another loop. “Don’t worry, darlin’, it’ll be fun.” He whispers into your ear that sends tingles up your back before he leads you into the cold winter air.

Chapter Text

“We need a support for Blackwatch’s mission.” Jack gets right to the point as soon as you enter his office. He’s forgone his entire on-duty outfit and sports instead his casual black body-tight shirt with his camouflage combat pants. He sits behind his desk, formally talking to you as your superior rather than a friend.

“You have Angela, Jack.” You’re quick to retort, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your white lab coat. Your chin sets itself high, and there's nothing in your stance that doesn't radiate power.

He sets his lips into a thin line, preparing himself for the oncoming battle. “Yes, but we need a support for their upcoming mission.”

“Let me guess, that support you're talking about. It's me, huh?” You set your right hand on your hip, and you wait to hear the next few words that will more than likely confirm your suspicions.

“It can be.” Jack sets his face into a stone mask before adding, “Or it can be someone from your medical team.”

Your eyes narrow, his threat loud and clear.

“You wouldn't dare, Jack.”

Sighing, he continues. “I know, I'm sorry. Look, we need a support and it can be either you or someone from the team.”

“I’ll do it.” You look away from him, you feel the heat in your stomach raising. “Just leave my team alone.”

“Thank you. The team will appreciate your hard work. And, I'm so-”

“Just shut up! I'm so goddamn sick of this.” The door seems so far away as you turn to leave. The anger in your body feeling like a weight on your soul.

“I’ll send you the details.” Jack manages to say before you open the door.

“Fuck off.”

You make sure to slam the door the on way out.

True to his word, days later you receive the details through an encrypted e-mail.

The team will be a six-man cell, lead by Reyes. You didn't recognize the other names on the list...except of course for Jesse McCree.

Sighing, you recline back on your office chair and wonder what the fuck you did in your past life for you to be receiving this punishment.

Chapter Text

The mission came sooner rather than later, unfortunately for you and your research.

As you look at yourself in the mirror, the black clothing and the old bulletproof vest fill you with a sense of nostalgia. It had been a two full years since you left the field and resigned yourself to the medical bay.

It was a contradiction.

A doctor - someone who had sworn to save lives - going out and helping end the lives of others.

Tonight, you'd help end the lives of someone's daughter or son, someone's father or mother.

It seems that this would be your curse.

As soon you entered the ship, you spot McCree sitting by one of the ship monitors sipping on what you assume to be alcohol.

“Reyes, it says ‘ere we got’a support f’er this mission? What made Morrison-” He finally turns, and almost sprays his drink when he catches sight of you in your combat clothing.

“Darlin’, what in the Devil’s blazes are you doin’ ‘ere?” He sounded a bit more panicked than confused. You observed him as you walked up the ramp of the ship, his plaid shirt covered by a Blackwatch vest and his pistol rested in its leather holster.

“Guess. You're smart enough.” Too tired to give him an actual explanation. You move towards the seating area on the ship with the young McCree in tow.

And before he has a chance to continue asking more questions, a voice interrupts his one-on-one interrogation.

“Leave her alone, boy.” Reyes walks right by McCree towards the monitor McCree had been sitting at. He accommodates the screen to fit his view and begins to type away but not before giving McCree a quick threat.

“Mira, Cabron. She’s no joke.” Reyes looks up from the screen, catching McCree’s eyes and holding them. “She's the one who trained Angela. I suggest you don't piss her off.”

“Yes, sir.” He tries not to let the surprise overcome him, but this man wears his emotions on his sleeves, and easier to read than first-grade picture book.

“It's been a while, Gabe.” You don't look up from your notes and he doesn’t look up from his monitor either. There's sense of familiarity with him after saving his and Jack’s lives only a couple hundred times.

“Yes, it has.” He continues typing and only stops to take a sip of the water next to him. “What did Jack say to you for you to agree to this mission?”

“Don't worry about it. I voluntarily agreed to it that's all.” Telling Reyes that Jack had threatened you with sending someone from your medical team would damage even more the little thread of relationship they had left.

It was all hanging by thread. Overwatch, their relationship - your relationship with them. It was crumbling and the pieces fell faster than you could pull them together again. The worst part was there was no stopping the decay, it was all going downhill and all of you knew it.

“So, uh, you know Angela?” McCree’s voice interrupts your train of thought, only to realize you had been staring blankly at your notes.

“Yup.”

“And ya’ trained with ‘er?”

“Yeah.”

“So does ‘at mean y’er were a support for Reyes’ an’ Morrison’s team?”

“Mhm. See, I told you you were smart.”

He sits back in the chair, folding his arms. “So does that mean y’er the gal that saved Reyes’ pretty face from tha’ explosion?”

“Yeah, I did.” Sighing you put your notes back into your folder and get up from the table. “I’m gonna catch some sleep. Wake me up when we get there.”

“Sleep tight, darlin’.” He sends a wink your way before he too gets up and heads over to Reyes and the rest of the team where they have started going over some last minute changes in their plans.