Shoes.

"I thought he was a man, but he was just a little boy."

Fiona Apple – Paper bag

When the Sparrow told him he was leaving, he chose not to believe it. Even when the version of Genji they knew was nothing but the shadow of the jovial and carefree boy he had once been, Reyes still knew better than to trust that frowny face of his, forever hidden behind multiple layers of metal.

But when the hours began to run and turn into days; when those days turned into weeks, the truth rushed its way back at him, charging at him with the violence of everything that's final: Genji wouldn't be coming back to Blackwatch – at least, not in the foreseeable future, the only kind of future they knew.

Genji was gone.

The memories found him rather quickly – every sour comment, every long stare, every silence filled with oppression and hatred… They boy had been leaving red signs all over the place for only God knows how long. It wasn't that hard to understand what was bothering him: now that they had put an end to the Shimada clan, the Sparrow was beginning to feel the evident lack of a clear goal – ever since the incident with his older brother, ever since waking up to find himself in a body he couldn't recognize anymore, destroying the clan or what was left of it had been his number one priority; his only priority. But now, empty and deprived of a clear destination, the younger Shimada seemed powerless when faced by the tremulous reality of a life that wasn't his and a weaponized body he still rejected.

As Reyes tapped his fingers on the desk, he recounted every sign on his head – it all seemed way too evident now, yet deep down, he couldn't quite understand why Genji's sudden departure was affecting him so badly.

It hadn't been sudden, he knew. The younger Shimada had been chewing on that decision for quite some time now yet the feeling stayed there, just as if it belonged in him; the surprising reality of knowing his team was now a member short – but Genji wasn't just a member, it had never been about a member.

He was a soldier, after all. He knew damn well what it felt like to lose a teammate. This feeling, stinging and unprecedented, was something else entirely.

Maybe it was the unstoppable aging, or the fact that he had always been too absorbed in his work to even consider the chance of having a social life. Settling down had never been a real option for him – children were a distant dream that could never come true.

Yet those two wild boys had filled the void inside.

The troubled cowboy and the broken ninja, each in their own way, had become the sons he could never have.

When his eyes widened in surprise he felt ashamed of himself – a man so tough, a leader, tangled in the seemingly affectionate mazes of the heart… he cursed himself under his breath, feeling like a complete idiot: those two ingrates were never going to see him as a father, no matter how hard he tried. The worst part was that he couldn't even blame them: one of them had been exposing signs of discontent all over the place and he hadn't been able to do anything – anything at all to help him feel better.

Even if McCree had never been graced by the warm embrace of a loving, nurturing paternal figure, Genji knew what it was like to have a real father.

Leader of a criminal empire or not, truth was that Sojiro was a giant ghost that would forever be hovering over his little boy. They would have never even dared to attack his favorite son if only he had been around to protect him – because that's exactly what a true father does: he protects, he shelters...

He stood up, resolute, and walked up to the door. He knew he could not fill such big shoes, those of a true father – he had even heard that the job of a father was relentless, and most of the times, paid with bitter currencies such as ingratitude and thoughtlessness. Still he felt compelled to give it a try to at least save himself the pain of a second departure: a second departure that was surely going to shatter the second half of his already damaged heart.

He didn't have to venture the corridor to find him: the cowboy was walking back to his room, hat on and everything, singing the same old tune he would always sing.

"McCree," Reyes began, his usually stern tone making it clear for the young cowboy that he wasn't joking, "Report to my office immediately."

Jesse stopped and turned around, a concerned look was written all over his otherwise unpreoccupied visage. With a slow cadence to his steps he finally obliged, knowing too well what could come from crossing Reyes.

Both men entered the office in silence, each one taking a seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the old and battered wooden desk as the only frontier separating them.

Visibly aiming for self-preservation, McCree raised both hands in a defensive stance:

"It wasn't me." He said.

Reyes tilted his head to the side, confused.

"Whatever you think I did… I can assure you, sir, I didn't do it." The young cowboy went on. "I swear whatever happened, it wasn't me."

It was hard for the Blackwatch leader to even try to contain his laughter: he knew the cowboy like the back of his own hand and even if he had no idea what had happened, one thing was for sure: McCree was always involved. Reyes fidgeted in his chair, trying to hide his sudden nervousness – it wouldn't be easy for a man like him to try and open up.

"Do you know why you're still here, Jesse?"

It was bewildering for the young cowboy to hear his own name exiting his boss' lips. Usually it was pendejo, or simply McCree. But there were times when it was asshole, freeloader, good for nothing and there had even been one time, when he was called a pile of shit.

"Because I was a criminal, and you made me choose between prison and this." This wasn't really that different from prison, he had learnt that the hard way.

"And how long do you think you should stay here?" Reyes asked, a curious eyebrow arching upwards, "According to you – do you think you've earned your freedom?"

The question left him breathless.

It wasn't unusual for the Commander to be so blunt, but soon McCree found himself realizing that the answer he was looking for was not an easy one. He was a reformed criminal now, or so they said. The man sitting right in front of him had sheltered him during the turbulent transition from rascal to… to what exactly?

They weren't heroes.

Overwatch was made of heroes. Real heroes. Blackwatch was composed by a colorful, diversified collection of murderers – not much had changed then, McCree pondered bitterly. His debt to society had not been paid in the slightest: no matter if he was just following orders and actively contributing to the noble cause of saving the world, his hands were still soaked in blood.

He looked down briefly, as if ashamed. When his eyes found his old Deadlock Gang tattoo he was left with no other choice but to accept the fact that the mark of his past was a stigma that would accompany him for as long as he lived. It would define him, time and again, every time the question would reach him: do you think you've earned your freedom, Jesse?

The cowboy crossed and uncrossed his legs like a nervous child about to be scolded. Why was Reyes asking him that now? What was he trying to do? Even if the man had found out about the previous night with Angela… no, that couldn't be it. Reyes was familiar with their games – he knew both Jesse and Genji would always try to flirt with the good doctor, but it was just a game, nothing too serious…

Even the doctor knew it was just an innocent game they would play from time to time – she would hesitate, even, playing her role: some days she would pick the cowboy, some days she would choose the ninja… and even now that Genji was gone, the woman would act as if the youngest Shimada was still around, making it harder for the cowboy every day.

Now that Genji was gone…

It couldn't be a coincidence, McCree considered.

Reyes was talking about his freedom right after Genji's departure. No. It simply could not be a coincidence.

"I think I have," the young cowboy finally said, even if he was being insincere.

Reyes nodded rather pensively, bringing his hands together.

"Very well, then…" He paused, looking for the right words to say. He knew the words wouldn't come easily; not now that Jesse was beginning to embrace his freedom – still it was hard to let him go. He had already watched Genji disappear from his life, and even when he knew he was not their father, it was intrinsically hard not to try to walk in those shoes: he had been there for them, after all, protecting them from themselves – rescuing them from delinquency and even helping them escape the private hells they were living in.

But it hadn't been enough.

"You're free to go, then." He said simply, confining the heartfelt words he could not say to the most recondite place of his wounded soul.

McCree tipped his hat at him, like every time his Commander would dismiss him after a meeting. Then he stood up, surprise still written all over his face – "You mean, I can go to my room now?"

Reyes breathed out loudly – a sound placed somewhere in between annoyance and exhaustion.

"No, Jesse. You are free to leave."

There, he had said it. He had finally let go from them both.

But the cowboy simply smiled at him, and shook his head in silence.

"Now that Genji's gone… it would be unfair for Ana to have to listen to your horrible jokes all by herself. Thanks for the offer, but I could never do that to her – it takes at least two people to put up with someone like you, chief."

As the cowboy leaned his back on the doorframe, he couldn't help but notice the shy smile quickly taking over Reyes' face – he crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his hat once more.

"See you 'round, boss."

Author's notes:

So, this idea came out of nowhere and refused to let me be until I wrote this one-shot. I read many fics that revolve around Jesse's departure when the war between Blackwatch and Overwatch became something real, but I thought there must have been another moment when the cowboy chose to stay – they couldn't just force him to stay with them forever after all.

Ironically enough, in this one-shot Reyes is deeply moved by Genji's departure – what he doesn't know is that the ninja, far from losing himself again, is on his way to find peace and acceptance, nothing more, nothing less. But the "son" that chooses to stay by his side, the one who cares enough for him as to deny his own freedom, is the one that's gonna forsake him in the end, when he's going to need him the most. Wicked…