"What the fuck are you doing, McCree?" Genji's robotic voice came in, and his red eyes glowed through the pleasant haze of his drunkenness and that only served to irritate the problem.

"First of all, what the fuck kinda a question is that? Listening to Pat Benatar on full blast at 2am is a goddamn mood, okay," Jesse corrected with no small amount of disdain, a mostly empty glass of bourbon in his hand, thrusting it and pointing one finger accusingly at Genji. "Heartbreaker is a fuckin' classic. Don't you come at me like that."

Jesse ain't quite sure if he can actually call Genji a friend, but he's something like one as he comes in and plucks the flask up off the floor with a noise of disgust. "Really cowboy, this a sign you've been drinking on the job?" He asked pointedly, and Jesse squinted as he processed that.

"Hey, hey now." He sat up some, while Genji turned off his music and made him listen to the sound of his own thoughts again. Damn him. Damn him for making him address those feelings. He didn't even know how to fucking put them! They were feelings and they were feelings aside from sexual desire and that was fucking weird! The fuck was he supposed to do about them?

"I'm listening." Genji stood there, imperial and incredibly unimpressed for a good long moment as Jesse tried to come up with some kinda coherent response, and then scoffed and walked off, leaving Jesse sprawled on the floor trashed out of his mind, having to think about with a massive pit in his stomach about how he loved someone.

Jesse McCree was made for a lot of things, destruction, death, theft, according to the public right now and the UN and just like how Deadlock had viewed a lil 13 year old who was small enough to get places the others couldn't and was also damn confident about what he'd done, because he'd needed to be if he wanted to survive.

But love? Naw. He wasn't that kinda squishy, mushy person. Sex, yes, sex he was down for now and forever, good form of stress relief so long it was on his terms and no one gets hurt by the outcome. But love, that was unfamiliar territory left best, in his mind, to Fareeha's and his movies when the girl had been a girl. Or hell, even to Jack and Gabe. That had been love. But what he had for Gabe? Naw. He knew better than to go for something like that. He wasn't even fucking good at fucking the same person or cuddling. And fuck that snag at the back of his mind thats whispering he broke both those rules of his because Gabe had asked. Fuck that. Gabe was hot, he'd be dumb not to want seconds, or thirds, or, fourths, or…hell.

He lay there on the floor, eyes glued to the ceiling as he remembered Gabe telling him to not drink so damn much. This was his fuckin' fault. His and Genji's. Making him feel things that he wasn't good at and then making him address them like he was some sort of functioning human being. Ridiculous.

Moments later, he reemerged from the door and was bringing Angela behind him. Maybe not moments later, but maybe McCree had been flashing in and out of consciousness. Came with the territory of drinking himself this stupid in an attempt to chase away those goddamned feelings.

"Jesse McCree." Angela's voice emanated from her entire being like a threat, and yet he still offered her the most charming smile he could manage drunk as a skunk at 2 in the morning.

"Angie." He croaked pathetically as Genji handed him a glass of water that he gulped down like a man stuck in the desert.

"Don't even bother." Genji interrupted them, from where Angela was about to undoubtedly go on a tirade about how his drinking habits weren't anywhere near healthy. "He was listening to classic rock. He's absolutely wasted."

Her eyebrows shot up into surprise from where they'd been clenched tight and about to throw down. "Really? Goodness, its worse than I thought." She murmured. "Help me pick him up, Genji. I need to put him on fluids."

Their jumbled walk over to Angela's clinic is absent from his mind, and as is the time after that.

All he knows is that when he woke up at fuck o' clock in the morning, he had a few Blackwatch agents just outside his room, and he decided to listen quietly.

"When's he get back?"

"Bout a month from now."

"Jesus! It's been 5 weeks already."

"Reyes can't be too happy he's lost his boy toy."

A round of snickers could be heard, and something sank from Jesse's throat to go constrict tight around his heart. He hates it too. He gets it- he was second choice, someone who's moderately attractive and therefore, a ripe candidate for sex. After dating someone like Jack Morrison, leader of Overwatch and hero of the world, how could someone like Jesse McCree ever even hope to compete?

He lay there in a fog, his mind fixating on that point. What does Gabriel see in him?

"All of you hush." Ana's sharp voice interrupted them. "It's Sahour and none of you are fasting. Out, out. Shoo. Go to bed."

A round of sheepish apologizes went around, and their footsteps echoed down the empty hall, and Ana walked in with a subtle smirk on her face.

"I know you're awake, Jesse." She announced, and he sighed.

"How the fuck didja know?" He rolled over, rubbing his eyes, and she was carrying a small lantern, lit by a candle. "A candle? What year is it, Ana?"

She rolled her eyes, and came into his room, setting the lantern down on Angela's bedside workspace, stretching as she did so. "I'm well aware that no one truly carries these anymore, but the tradition is said to have come from Egypt. I bought this one last weekend. If I do not try to preserve my culture, what will happen to it?" She tapped the multicolored lantern tellingly. "It will be left in the past, just as candles have, for the most part."

He nodded quietly, sighing as he shifted uncomfortably. "Wish I knew how exactly I could do that, but I getcha. Pa felt the same about me n' teaching me what he knew about Ma's history."

She hummed at that, looking around slowly. "Where is Angela?" Ana asked, something sly and conspicuous in her tone.

"No idea." He admitted after a moment, sitting up knowingly as her lips quirked up into a smile, the way that told him that she was up to something fun.

"Would you join me for Sahour?" She asked, and Jesse didn't even need to answer fully with words as he was very quickly up on his feet without much other prompting.

XXXXX

Middle of the night meals with Ana during Ramadan were something he'd participated in for many a year now. They were almost always incredibly fun, and he'd been doing them since he had first joined them, with Fareeha just starting to participate in them truly herself.

The meal was thankfully already prepared, and she poured him an extra cup of tea, handing it to him quickly as she then sat down with him to enjoy the night, setting her lantern up with the rest of her collection.

"Its a shame Fareeha isn't here." He murmured. "You made her favorite." He gestured to the ground up lamb and other vegetables, all topped with a fried egg.

Ana sighed quietly as she sat with him on her couch, shrugging quietly. "It is her favorite. That was why I was in Cairo. She'd been playing phone tag with me, and I had been making preparations for Eid, so I took a day to go see her. She refused to, though." A long pause. "I understand it though. She's busy in training, and she's fasting. I likely aggravated the issue by showing up in person."

Jesse didn't know how to respond to that, and so only nodded quietly, sipping the tea that Ana had given him quietly.

There was another, slightly more comfortable silence as Ana ate her plate of food quietly, seeming a bit down.

He was in the middle of starting his own plate of deliciously spiced food, when Ana asked a strange question.

"Do you think Fareeha knows that I'm proud of her?"

He choked on his food, and had to cough some, staring at her in bafflement. When it was clear that she was expecting an answer, staring at him intently with sharp amber eyes. He had to swallow then, not just his food, but also his sudden fear of upsetting Ana.

"Well, ma'am, I've only heard you say the best things about her." He admitted. "You tell us all the time how well she's done for herself, how well she did in her school in Canada with her father in her fancy engineering program." Ana nods at that, tersely.

"I had hoped she would pursue a career in civil engineering, like her father." She admitted quietly. "I didn't want her in the army."

"S' understandable, Ma'am," McCree allowed. "For all the good this has brought me, this life has brought me a lot of shit too." He swirled his sugar in his tea cup. "Never mind how Amélie Lacroix was what, basically Fareeha's age now, right?"

"That is correct." Ana confirmed, the words heavy. "Killing brings much pain to my soul. I do what I must to keep my family safe, as I always have. There is nothing more important than protecting the ones you love. I always have been willing to fight, and die for it. That was why I left Fareeha with her father in Canada, and fought the omnic threat. That was why I joined Overwatch. So that Fareeha could live a better life."

Jesse took off his hat, and rubbed his hair quietly. "Amélie Lacroix was a civilian, she was a ballet dancer." He paused, thinking about it some. "Never mind how Overwatch is under investigation right now."

Ana nodded again, faster. "Exactly! If things go sour, I do not want this to be her defining moment of her career!" There was a long sigh. "I want her safe. I want to end this fight, so that she may live the life she deserves. I only hope that one day, she may understand." She closed her eyes quietly. "I have only ever felt the deepest of loves for her. I tried to name her for what she was to me, what she will always be to me."

She looked at McCree quietly, pleading with her expression. "She is my happiness. My joy."

At that, he nodded again, picking at his food quietly. "Then I think she will understand. Maybe not right now. But she will, some day. She might be angry right now, that she cannot get where she wants to be, but I know you love her, that you're proud of her, and that you only want the best for her, even if its not what she really wants."

She licked her lips, and nodded. "Alright. Alright." She gets up, letting McCree continue to eat as she packs up some of her food. "The last day of Ramadan is tomorrow, and then I invite you all to Eid. She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Feel free to stop by whenever."

"Thanks, ma'am," He tipped his hat at her as he put it back on his head. "I should go back to the medbay before Angie does her rounds." He stood up, bringing his plates over to her small sink, and gave her kisses on her cheeks. "I'll see you tomorrow for Iftar, Ana." He promised. "And I'll drag Genji, or Angie and I will try to. For the rich one, he's pretty uncultured." He joked, making Ana snort and roll her eyes.

"Go to bed, McCree." She ordered, and far be it from him to turn her down, a good kind of weariness finally soaking into him, and he marched his ass right on back to the medbay, hardly caring he was still wearing shoes from his 3 am meal.

XXXXX

Of all the days since the damn incident that got his arm blown the fuck off, the ones he spent with Ana were perhaps the best ones. He wound up being able to spend his free time between helping Gabriel with some paperwork, moving boxes for Petras, and cooking and preparing for Eid with Ana.

The last Iftar of Ramadan was spent with everyone that was in their main circle of friends, even Genji had shown up out of Angela's sheer force of will to include him in their activities.

He was in the process of being remodeled, no longer wishing to don the red and black look of Blackwatch apparently. Something bitter in Jesse spoke to how he'd used Blackwatch to get his revenge and now wanted nothing more to do with them, much as how the public had been happy to use them back in the better days, and now were more than happy to wipe their hands clean of them in some official trial that was going to put a few of them into prison for the rest of their days, or something else terrible.

But Jesse bit his tongue for now. He'd get along, for Angela's sake, for Ana's sake, if not for Genji. He didn't want Ana coming to know how bitter he was about Genji. She'd turn it into a life lesson, or some shit.

But that was real hard, 'cause even now, he was acting like a massive prick, not even trying to participate in the conversation. Angela swore that he wasn't really a prick, and yet Jesse had a damn hard time believing it, because he looked down on literally everything and acted like even speaking to him like a regular human being was something that was straight up forbidden.

The Blackwatch nickname for him might be Spoiled Murdered Prince, but fuck Jesse if he'd ever say that aloud. He understood being angry at the world for everything, hell, he'd been there, but Genji had spat in that a damn long time ago. And then after the stint that had gotten them all caught, well, Jesse didn't think their relationship had improved much, if at all.

Somehow, as strange as it was, Jesse and Genji somehow wound up alone. N' really, it wasn't that strange, since Genji had followed him to the balcony when he'd gone to smoke by himself.

"So you're drinking now." He stated flatly, staring at him with reddish brown eyes.

"Always such a pleasure to chat, Genji." McCree muttered, his temper mild at this point after the wonderful mean.

"Don't deflect me. I know how you feel about this mess McCree. There's no way you're just going to simply sit here and do nothing about it. They're going to come for people like us." Genji's metallic foot tapped on the floor expectantly, and Jesse gave him a very disapproving look.

"Genji. Genji. Why on earth would I talk about my feelings, when I could just...not." He pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders. "'Cause, uhm, fuck that soft shit. I think its time to break out the classic rock." Jesse said, hand already grabbing the bourbon, and Genji just gave an exasperated eye roll, somehow managing to completely convey how much he disagreed with that.

"Where will you be when all this goes wrong, Jesse McCree?" He asked, arms folded, and voice still incredibly artificial.

"I won't be anywhere when things go wrong, 'cause things won't go wrong." He shrugged, giving a thin-lipped smile.

Genji scoffed loudly at that. "So you're just going to follow Reyes to hell?" He asked pointedly, glaring some. "You're smarter than that McCree. I know you are. You won't just sit here and sink into the quicksand."

Jesse glared at him straight on at that. "Fuck you." He finally had to break. "You ain't got a say in what I do." He looked at the ground.

"I don't." He agreed. "...Dr. Ziegler said that your blood alcohol levels were at lethal levels. She's going to bring you in for a doctors appointment. Do you have a problem, Jesse McCree?"

At that, a long silence reigned king between them, as McCree leveled him with the nastiest look that he could possibly give him. Genji wasn't ever this direct with him- but this was face on, and while Jesse would normally appreciate his straightforward phrasing, this was something that McCree didn't even like to bring up in more subtle ways.

So he just had to stare at him. "What the fuck gives you the right to ask that about me?" His voice was a dangerous growl, and Genji's brow furrowed enough for him to see the expression underneath the mask.

"McCree- Jesse." He started, and Jesse just held his outraged expression that belied his true anger.

"Don't you Jesse me." He narrowed his eyes. "What are you asking for? Angie, sure, if she'd ask, I'd see it. But you? We're not friends, Genji." He explained as plainly as he could.

"We're not friends?" Genji asked, in disbelief.

"No, and we haven't been ever, I reckon. Just been coworkers. You don't go from being a right asshole, which you've always been, mind you, to bein buds." He pointed out with an accusatory finger.

Genji's red eyes expressed some surprise, and while Jesse sympathized some, he wasn't quick to truly want to apologize for this. So he continued.

"My problems are just that- mine." He grit out, and Genji backed off. "I don't need the commentary, I certainly don't need advice from you. Ain't like you have your life together. So, yes. I will follow him to hell. That's what loyalty is. S' what love is." He finally said it aloud, and it was like something in the room changed.

"Wait- love?" Genji stopped, holding up his hand. "You, love, Reyes?" Genji clarified, seeming completely taken aback, completely surprised.

Jesse didn't answer, his throat clamped up and raw with the truth.

"Jesse, that's not the kind of person, we're not the kind of people who are meant for that." Genji pointed out, and McCree's heart constricted. "We're not meant for that soft shit. And I know you're like me. This won't work out." He tilted his head, and Jesse wasn't able to meet his gaze.

Genji gave a huff. "People like us are meant for people like us. We should leave now. I know you want to. You've seen the signs. This job will kill us."

"That ain't your place to decide for me, Genji. We're not friends, and we're certainly not anything like what you're suggesting. Now get the fuck out of here, moody bastard." He muttered, and Genji seemed like he was the one that had been mistreated, but he left, and Jesse was able to let out a sigh.

He loved Gabriel Reyes. That was just the plain truth of things. He, Jesse McCree, was in love.

He felt sick. He felt overjoyed. He felt release, a relapse into something that he'd thought he'd lost years ago.

Genji left, and he was left alone with complicated thoughts and something like relief. He'd finally come to terms with it.

Jesse McCree wanted Gabriel Reyes, not just his body, not like any other relationship he'd ever had. He wanted him. All of him. His heart too.

Genji left, and with it, the snaggletooth voice of his depression that echoed of his words of how he wasn't the kind of person meant for something like love.

XXXXX

"There are known knowns- the things we know that we know. Then there are known unknowns- the things we know we don't know. But then there's unknown unknowns, the things we don't know we don't know." Gabriel explained with a huff. "Donald Rumsfeld- I hate the sunuvabitch, but its a useful thing to explain some of this. We know that the UN and Petras are fuckin us damn sideways, and we know that we don't know who is fuckin leaking shit. But there are those unknown unknowns that are fucking shit up further. I can deal with SNAFUs, but this is getting beyond that."

Someone raised their hand. "So you're saying that we know that we don't know the things we don't know?" He tried, and there was a round of snickers as Gabriel rubbed his temples.

Blackwatch information meetings were always like this, and Jesse took in a deep breath as he shifted in his seat to relax completely. This was going to take a while, and Gabe's polisci degree usually complicated things further than they really needed to be.

"Not quite. We're aware that there's forces at play that are changing up variables that we can't account for, because we don't even know what kind of forces they are. Things we don't know that we don't know."

There was still confused murmurs that went around the ranks, and Gabriel rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his brain around a easier way to say this.

"An unknown unknown in the case of the Shimada family was the plot to murder Genji. We didn't know that we didn't know that was coming. Versus, how we knew we didn't know how deep corruption went in the Japanese government. We could still make predictions, because we were aware we had no fucking clue, but Genji joining us was an unknown unknown- something we couldn't have even thought to predict prior to it happening."

There were a few more head nods at that, and Gabriel was able to keep briefing about their intelligence about the leaks within the Overwatch base itself.

There was a sigh, from a younger member not too much longer after that. "I swear, this damn job is trying to kill us. We're the good guys! We're trying not to let Talon just fuck things up! They're the terrorists- don't they get that?" He looked to Jesse for answers.

"Nope." Jesse popped the syllable, shrugging. "They don't get a goddamn thing. They just know that a lot of us were unsavory members of society and thats apparently enough to make a decent judgement."

"McCree, Green." Gabriel barked snippily. "Your attention, please. Even though we're all no longer on active duty and its our job to really only sit our asses here on base, I'm trying my damndest to at least maintain the image of us being a functioning part of this larger operation, got it? So fucking pay attention."

Green nodded sheepishly, and Jesse merely met Gabe's gaze straight on and nodded more purposefully, before Gabriel let out a mildly irritated sigh and continued.

"Because Morrison has the balls to think that the leak comes from my side of things, I don't have all the information about this anti-Talon mission that we'll be taking on in a few days time. I know it's Captain Amari's team, and both Morrison and Amari are going to be present in Poland. There are a group of Overwatch affiliated staff and personnel being held hostage, and that is what is giving us the ability to really act. Its your lots job to figure out where they're being held, and what sort of problems we'll be facing in Poland. I get it, we only have minimal information, but regardless, again, Blackwatch is Overwatch's main feed of intelligence, and so we have to try anyway."

And with that, he passed out several manilla folders to everyone in the room, and waved them all away to go do their work elsewhere.

Jesse fingered his manilla folder with a grumbly sigh, rolling his eyes. He really wasn't a damn fan of this whole paper trail intelligence schtick, but he supposed he'd asked for it by coming in for work. Picking up the creme colored folder with a lump of papers and photos in it, putting it under his stupid fucking half arm, and stood in a huff, walking off and cursing the UN beneath his breath for good measure.

XXXXX

"McCree." The conversation began with his last name, as many did these days. He had to take pause, because the owner of that voice was someone who knew him well enough that he didn't mind the use of Jesse at all to get his attention.

"Yes, Dr. Ziegler?" He asked from where he was sitting, eyes glazed over reading redacted and otherwise information, compiling information in his analysis of the situation at hand.

"I'd like to see you come into my office." She stated, voice still rather formal. "I'd like to talk about a few things."

McCree had to sigh, because he had so much work to be doing, and he only had one hand to type with. "Angie, I don't..." The second he turned around, he really, truly wished that he hadn't.

"Genji." Angela looked at her feet, her delicately small hands balled into fists, eyes red. "He...told me he was leaving. His mission was over, and so he was going to leave."

Almost immediately, Jesse was on his feet. His throat was dry. "He told you he was leaving?" He repeated, going over to her, abandoning his manilla folder and analysis report.

She nodded, and looked up at him, eyes teared up. "He, I, we…" She let out a stifled sob, wiping her eyes quietly. "We weren't…anything, not really, but I, I thought…and…" She hiccuped, and McCree didn't need more of an explanation, pulling Angela against him, hugging her tight, letting her sink into his familiar hug.

Angela Ziegler was the yin to his yang, he'd always thought. Ever since she'd joined on officially when she'd been 21, the two were thick as thieves. Damn if she wasn't a pretty lil bird, and her professional nature and educational status made him look like a hick from the middle of nowhere. But, his ability to schmooze and charm folks made her bedside manner look like a screaming harpy.

They weren't exactly opposites, more like platonic soulmates, as Angela had referred to it as.

And even though she and Jess had messed around, they had fun with it, and it had been on completely mutual terms when they had stopped. They were better friends than lovers.

There was a different story to be told with Genji- not unlike the one he had with Gabriel.

We're not the kind of people who are meant for that.

Genji's urging to get Jesse to run away with him haunts him now, with a distraught Angela Ziegler unable to admit her feelings to someone who didn't fucking deserve them.

"Ange, I know. I understand." He rumbled quietly, putting a hand on her head and holding her, letting her quiver and shake with the things she'd not been able to say to the one she was so upset over.

"I, I always tried to let him know." She stammered, and he nodded understandingly as he walked with her, letting her adjust to walk better, an easy arm over her shoulder. "It wouldn't have been right, I was treating him, he was my patient. He had things to work through. A lot of things, and, I tried to be there for him, I really did, but he was just angry sometimes and I didn't know what to do. He was allowed to be angry, a lot in his life was never going to be the same but still, I," She finally sobbed.

Jesse finally got her to the medical bay, and closed her office door behind them, letting her sob.

"I love him." She admitted in a small voice. "I love him. Even when he's difficult and angry and I, I never said anything because the time wasn't right, and the strength of my own feelings scares me. I've always been married to my work, I've never even thought of settling down because this job is my life, this career is who I am, and Genji changed that. I've always wanted to help the good of everyone, been an advocate for peace, but he came along and made me question that. His story, I wanted to make someone else hurt for him. I wanted to march right along to the person who did this to him, turned someone called a sparrow in his youth to such an angry person, and I don't know what I'd do, but I'd do something." Tears dropped freely now, and she laughed, the sound sad and broken. "I bet if he'd asked, I would have agreed to children."

His eyes widened and jaw dropped in mock horror. "Angie, Angie, no, you hate children."

Angela laughed again, the sound somewhat warmer as she smiled, wiping her eyes. "They would be adopted. And, at least 10 years old. And potty trained."

Jesse was laughing, shaking his head as he hugged her, letting her laughter continue. "Angie, kids know how to use the toilet at 3 or 4 years old. C'mon. Do you remember meeting Fareeha? She was 12! You treated her like, I don't know, a snot covered monster."

"She was a kid!" Angela was now actually laughing. "I'd not been around my peers in ages, Jesse! Let alone younger children."

"She wasn't even a child! She was a pre-teen!" Jesse pointed out with another guffaw. "I've always let you have that, Angie, why the fuck do you think I come along and cook for you every now and again?"

"You've just always been so much better at all that stuff than I am." Angela said through a fit of giggles, blue eyes softer, the edges still red. "Do you know how many times I wished that I had your ability to deal with people? How many times I wished I could be like you?"

It was around then that McCree knew exactly what to do to help her feel better after losing someone who would have given her the reason to share her life with someone else.