AN~ Holy mother of hell, it has been a LONG time, hasn't it? Life has sucked and motivation has dwindled, but I've got my spark back and am ready to start updating again. I feel like I've learned a lot over these months and can produce better products, so maybe this hiatus was a blessing in disguise. Either way, I'm back and I hope you enjoy. It's a short, filler chapter, but it'll hold things over until the next is done.

He was having too much fun for a man handcuffed to a table in a police station- one who had been yelled at for nearly two hours, to boot. Those eyes bore a sickening resemblance to those of a child's. Curiosity... wonder... amusement... a near facsimile of innocence that left Lucio with a bad taste in his mouth. "A kid on a field trip," he thought. His file said he was twenty-five, but in the harsh lighting of the interrogation room made him look much older. One might guess why and any random assumption could be a reasonable one. The Brazilian's own bet was on narcotics. He hated to judge, but this Fawkes character seemed like the type with a record to support. There was at least one possession charge in there mingling with the arson and robbery- heroine. Getting a good look at him, however, he didn't strike Lucio as someone who would use that particular drug. With all the visible bare skin, he didn't see the usual signs. If anything, this man looked more like the breed to abuse pain medication rather than partake in harder substances. It sure as hell wasn't weed.

Sergeant Kahza sat across from Fawkes and stared him down, squinted eyes meeting the wide orbs of the other man. Fawkes' noticeably twitched away every so often. "I don't believe you." Kahza stood and slammed both flattened palms against the table. "I don't fucking believe you!" Jamison merely shrugged, offering an expression that Lucio could only best describe as 'oh well.' He wasn't being smug, though. From where the Brazilian stood, Jamsion seemed like he was being genuinely honest and unassuming in spite of the circumstances. Perhaps he was a very good liar in place of being a good criminal. "Nonono! Don't give me that! I am fucking done! You tell me right now or so help me I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't even get a trial! You will spend the rest of your life in prison!"

The Australian- as fate would have it- cocked his head to the left, wild hair swaying comically with the gesture. "Ain't I goin' to jail fer life anyway?" Kahza snapped around at him, entirely unamused.

"If the court is sane, yes."

Jamison's palms splayed out in the best "big" shrug he could manage in the handcuffs. "Well, then even if I did know where he was, what's my motivation fer tellin'?" It wasn't the first oddly sane thing to come from the madman's mouth, but even so the sprinkles of sense still gave Lucio little twists of surprise in his gut. Kahza kicked the table, causing a leg to bump the metal knee of Jamison's peg-leg harshly.

"Me not beating that smile off of your face!" Jesse, who'd been watching through the two-way mirror at Lucio's side, quickly interjected by pressing the speaker button.

"I think that's enough, Sergeant. Come talk to me, will ya?" The native growled and gave the table another, less enthusiastic nudge with his toe before exiting the room in a huff. There was a visible lax in the prisoner's shoulders as it happened, but his expression remained unmoved. Kahza met Jesse right outside the door and both men took to another stand-off, the third in that hour. Kahza was tense and irritated and Jesse was relaxed and growing even more smug with each respite between bouts of screaming at Jamison's incredibly docile front. "I'm gonna keep trying to negotiate this," McCree warned. Kahza snorted like a wild animal. It almost made the Brazilian laugh in spite of himself.

"And I'm going to keep refusing. You're nuts. Fucking nuts. It's like you think you're a miracle worker!"

"It wouldn't be a miracle if it worked. It would be me knowing how to read people, which, like I said, I do. I was a lot like him in my younger years. Maybe a little less off the loony-edge, but similar enough."

"And I'm going to remind you to read his rap sheet! He's a terrorist!"

"Okay, I'll admit, he looks bad, but he's also a kid from a shitty place who hasn't ever had real discipline or exposure to a lawful environment. I mean, the government out there totally abandoned those people. He was left to his own devices for his entire life. Gimme a trial run! Let me test the waters and see if it has any effect."

"It won't" Kahza was firm.

"You're wrong. I am willin' to bet my life's savings on it. Give me three months. It's three months of this kid under strict Overwatch supervision and protective custody. He isn't goin' nowhere and isn't gonna have access to anything that'll cause trouble. Our base is secluded, too. Lockin' him away for life will stop his spree, sure, but rehabilitatin' him will allow him to give back. It's more beneficial. If, in three months, he hasn't changed at all, lock him up."

"Mister McCree, this is lunacy..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...And I know the higher-ups would jump at the idea... But they need my recommendation and I'm not giving it."

"Unless they veto, which they have the power to do. It takes longer, but I'm sure I could get Overwatch Custody. You playin' hard ball is just making this process more stressful on yourself." There was finally a crack in the pillars of Kahza's resolve. His hand dropped to his side and the man looked at Jamison through the glass. He was sitting silently at the table, not trying to struggle or even look around the room. He acted like a bored teenager as he played with a loose bolt on one of his hazard-orange fingers. After a moment or two, his thin chest rose and fell in a shaky breath, followed by a cough. The Australian finally looked up from his hand to the mirror. The movement wasn't sudden, but the change and unintentional focus loosely on him gave Lucio a fright. He'd never get used to those sharp and... perplexing features. He wasn't sure if ugly was the right word, either. Not handsome, not ugly... just... odd. Jamison was in-between, leaning a little towards ugly while not actually being ugly. In study, Lucio followed the lines of a few features on Fawkes' long face. His eyes were a little sunken... also round and bright. The shadows from his brow and cheek bones amplified the stark contrast that his amber irises presented. Looking at them didn't give the Brazilian the same horrible nausea as it did the first time, at least. His nose was a bit on the longer side and shared the same sharpness as everything else. It would twitch quite often. "Maybe a tick..." he guessed silently. He wasn't smiling now, but Lucio had looked at Jamison's wide, lop-sided grin plenty in the earlier minutes of the interrogation. It was child-like and hinted with gold and some more natural discoloration. From the shade, he figured Jamsion liked soda, coffee or tea. Lucio's mother had similar discoloration, though not as harsh, and it was from a love of soda as a child.

After what felt like a very long silence, Kahza finally relented. "Fine... But only if he agrees to it." In hearing that, Lucio let a scoff escape his lips. He had let his guard down for one second and payed for it. Kahza gave the smaller man a steely glare as Jesse walked between them to enter the interrogation room. To avoid the look, the Brazilian turned his attention back to Fawkes who now looked at Jesse with a more prominent sense of intrigue.

"Howdy, Mister Eastwood," he tried a southern accent and it blended horribly with his own. One was actually thick and the other was an attempt equally as thick and it only became an assault on the ears. Regardless, he seemed proud of the joke and even more so when Jesse humored him with a smile. Whether or not McCree actually found it funny was up in the air.

"Howdy, partner." The greeting wasn't even Jesse playing along with the joke. Lucio honestly believed that the southerner was being genuine. Either way, it made Jamison beam even more. "My name is Jesse McCree. I'm with Overwatch."

"Gotta say I figured. Do you guys just... not have a dress-code? Uniforms? Is it casual friday?"

Jesse chuckled. "We're playin' loose right now, gettin' our feet under us. Not sure if the uniforms are gonna come back, but I'm not complainin'. Anyway, I'm actually here to make you an offer, Mister Fawkes."

Jamison puts up his metal palm. "I dunno where he is."

"No no, that's not what I'm bargainin' for. After a couple hours of this, I honestly believe you. What I'm offerin' is... a second chance. I know you come from Junkertown 'n out that way and don't think you wanna go to jail-"

"Waitwaitwait... Yer offerin' me... me freedom?" The astonishment on his face was almost a pleasant change. Jesse gave a sideways expression and shrugged.

"In a sense... What I'm offerin' you is a chance to not go to jail for somethin' sorta like community service."

"Community service? Cleanin' up rubbish on the freeway and cuttin' hedges in the park?"

"No, this is special. A rare offer that's only been handed out once before... That I know of, at least. In exchange for not going to the slammer, I want you to come with us back to base and work with Overwatch for a period of time." Lucio didn't know that those beady-eyes could get any wider. That face only got more and more bazar, leaving the smaller man to fear any other emotions that might cross over it if he did agree to hang around the base. The very idea made him feel ill, especially since he had no authority to complain.

"You... Wot?" He turned his head as if trying to hear Jesse better. "Me? Work fer Overwatch? Yer gaggle of goody-two-shoes?"

"Yup. Three months."

"And... What happens at the end... of those three months?"

Jesse shrugged. "That's up to you."

From the silence, Kahza finally spoke and the suddenness of his raspy rumble made Lucio jump. His nerves were shot and he didn't know how much more he could take for the day. "I have a horrible feeling that he's going to agree."

In a near panic, the smaller man agrees. "Me, too." As Jesse and Jamison converse, Kahza continues.

"Do you know what he sees in that lunatic?"

"Uhh... Well, I guess some of himself...? I dunno. I mean, he is kinda young, but... You know, I try to see the good in everyone, but I don't think I'm in a clear enough state to judge right now."

"I am. This kid is a walking disaster. A volatile brew of bad shit, fermenting since the day he was born."

"A little... harsh, don't you think?"

Kahza turns to him slowly with a firm, scrunched glare, almost a snarl. "One day, you people are going to realize that this world is a shitty place full of shitty people. People like him outweigh people like you on the cosmic scale. Reforming this one fucker is only making room for a new one to take his place. The cycle doesn't stop and the world doesn't become a better place for it."

Lucio knew he'd dislike this man.