A/N: Hello again! I am back already! (Actually, I post the chapters first on AO3, under the same name.) Winston and Genji were really hard to write, but I hope that came out okay ;A;

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Drinks of Blue

McCree woke up disoriented. First of all, he was in a bed, which had been a rare occurrence for the past few years. Second of all, it was almost familiar. He blinked his eyes open and yawned.

Ah, Gibraltar. Right. The recall. He'd only arrived last night, greeted by Winston and Tracer and Mercy, before he passed out on his old bed.

With another yawn, he pushed himself up. His pants were on the floor where he left them, but he needed a clean shirt after traveling all day yesterday. He hadn't packed much, because he didn't own much anymore—a vigilante constantly on the move can't be too weighed down. He buckled his gun holster, Peacekeeper in place, put on his hat, and left to find some breakfast.

His feet remembered the way to the cafeteria perfectly. Unlike the last time he was here, however, the kitchens were empty, the tables mostly stacked against the wall except for one, which was currently occupied by Tracer.

She perked up at the sound of McCree's spurs and waved at him. "Morning, love!" she said. "There's some cereal and milk in the kitchen if you're hungry."

He tipped his hat wordlessly to her and walked to the kitchen. There were several cereal boxes on the counter, dirty dishes in the sink, and skim milk in the fridge. McCree scoffed; skim milk was hardly milk. Calling it such was an insult to any cow, and by extension, any cowboy.

But McCree wasn't about to eat cereal without milk, like a heathen. So he poured a bowl of cereal with the heinous skim milk and joined Tracer at her table.

Her hair was the same spiky mess he remembered, but her fingers now cradled her tea with a slight tremor that was new. Her goggles rested around her neck, even though she wasn't in her signature Overwatch uniform. The glow of her chronal accelerator came softly through the fabric of her T-shirt and reflected in her warm brown eyes. The pale blue color of the light reminded McCree of a childhood daydream.

"You alright there, Jesse?" Tracer asked. "You don't seem quite awake yet."

"Ah, just lost in my thoughts," he said. "Being back 'ere, it's bringing back a lot of memories." Shimmering scales, shifting wings…

Tracer nodded. "I spent so much time here, and now it feels like I never left. Of course, back then it was a lot louder, wasn't it?"

McCree chuckled. "Oh, you were a rowdy bunch. Made me glad I was hardly around y'all."

"Oh, hush, you loved it!"

"Perhaps."

She giggled into her tea. McCree felt a warm affection in his heart—he hadn't realized how much he'd missed Tracer. Despite her being in Overwatch and him in Blackwatch, they'd managed to become friends. She travelled through time and his sense of style was about 200 years old now. She'd found that hilarious, and had stuck to him ever since. Even in the years after Overwatch fell, they would cross paths, both trying to do something good in the world, even if it was only small things.

"Oh! I nearly forgot," Tracer said, putting her tea down a little too harshly. "Guess who's answered the recall?"

"Uh…" McCree ran a mental checklist of all the past Overwatch members he knew. "Who?"

"Genji Shimada!"

It took a moment, but then the name clicked. Genji, the cyborg ninja who Mercy saved and had left before Overwatch fell. Gone to travel and search for himself or something. "Didn't expect him to come back," McCree said, raising his eyebrow.

"Me neither. But he should be back today, and he said he's bringing his 'master'."

McCree wasn't sure what to make of that. "Master…?"

Tracer shrugged. "We'll see when they get here, I suppose."

"JESSE!" came a booming voice. That could only be one person.

"Reinhardt," McCree said, turning to face the giant of a man. He was even more weathered than the last time McCree had seen him, but he still stood straight and sturdy, and the ear-to-ear grin was the same. And he still called McCree by his first name. "Didn't know you were here, too. Good to see ya."

He slapped a large hand onto McCree's shoulder. "I'm so glad to see you are well! What have you been doing in the past years? Getting up to no good again?"

"Well," McCree said, tipping his hat back so he could see the giant's face, "I gotta make money somehow, don't I? Ran into Tracer a few times, though."

Tracer raised her cup of tea a little. "I wouldn't say he was up to no good, Reinhardt. McCree helped me a few times. He's a good fella."

Reinhardt opened his mouth and then stopped. "Why, it appears Genji has already arrived!" he declared. "Come, let us go greet him!" And the giant man was off, stomping a heavy path to the front door.

"How does he do that?" Tracer asked. "Does he have super ears?"

McCree shrugged. He pushed his empty bowl of cereal aside and stood up to follow Reinhardt. He wanted to know exactly who this "master" was, and anyways, it wasn't in McCree's nature to be impolite. He had good Southern sensibilities from his ma and pa, and even a run with an outlaw gang wasn't going to change that.

Reinhardt had, of course, beaten them to the entrance hall. Torbjörn stood next to the giant figure, almost completely dwarfed by his shadow. Mercy and Winston, too, were there already, greeting the two robotic figures. One was Genji; relatively short, with matte white armor over his cybernetic body. His visor was off, showing off short, dark hair and sparkling eyes. The eyes were the most different—before, Genji had rarely, if ever, been seen without his visor. The one time McCree had seen his eyes, they'd been empty and heavy. Now, they shone with happiness and life.

Next to Genji was an omnic monk, who (if McCree were to guess) was probably the reason why Genji seemed so much happier. He had a circle of orbs floating around his neck, drifting idly and spinning. Despite being an omnic, the monk was clothed, if only in baggy pants held up by a thick cord. He held his hands loosely in his lap, and dipped his head occasionally as Genji chatted excitedly.

Genji finally spotted McCree and Tracer as they walked in. McCree tipped his hat in welcome, while Tracer bolted forward in quick blinks, right into Genji's arms in a sudden hug. He reeled for a moment before returning the hug—something the old Genji wouldn't have done.

"Oh, Genji, it's so good to see you!" Tracer said. "Look at you, you look so well! Oh, and is this your master?" she asked. "Excuse me, my name is Lena. Pleasure to meet you."

The omnic monk bowed his head to her. "The pleasure is all mine. Yes, young Genji has been training with me for a few years now. You may call me Zenyatta." The monk's gaze traveled to McCree as he joined the group.

"Name's McCree," he said. He started to lift his hand to shake, but didn't know if omnics, or monks, did that, so he let his hand fall back down. "Welcome to Overwatch."

"Thank you," Zenyatta said. "Genji has told me much about all of you."

"Really?" Tracer said with an over exaggerated drawl. "What did you say about us, Genji?"

Genji smiled mischievously. "For starters, I recounted the time when you rewound into—"

"No! No, no no, we don't need to hear about that again," Tracer blurted out, scrambling to cover Genji's mouth with her hands. "You little devil, you didn't actually tell him that, did you?" she hissed.

"I assure you I don't know what he is speaking of," Zenyatta said.

"I can't tell if you're joking or not," Tracer said. Zenyatta chuckled, a robotic yet still warm sound.

"I see you two share a sense of humor," Mercy said. "Just as Lena said, I'm so glad to see you again, Genji. Has everything been holding up?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm very well. Thank you, Angela. What about yourself? You look as if you have not aged a day."

Mercy pressed a hand to her cheek as a slight rose color blossomed over them. "Oh, don't you start with your flattery."

"It's true, Angela!" Reinhardt bellowed. "You're as lovely as a young daisy! And just as brilliant, I'm sure."

She waved him off. "Please, today is not about me. What are we doing still in this drafty room? We should show our new members to their rooms."

"Yes," said Winston, stepping forward. "Mercy and I will show you two to your rooms, and then around the base. It hasn't changed much since you were here, Genji, but I'm sure Zenyatta would like a tour."

"It would be appreciated," said Zenyatta. Genji nodded in agreement, and Mercy and Winston took the lead. Reinhardt and Torbjörn followed them and then split to head to the kitchen; Tracer immediately fell into step (or… float?) with Zenyatta, but Genji lingered.

The cyborg turned to McCree. McCree wasn't used to seeing his face, so scarred, but now it at least was happy. "I didn't expect you to come back," McCree said. "Figured 'searching for ya self' would take longer."

"It's good to be back," Genji said. "I was lucky to find Master Zenyatta, and even luckier that he did not give up on me when I refused his advice the first few times. But I didn't know if you would return, either, considering you left before Blackwatch was exposed."

"Old habits. Abandon ship before it sinks. After a while, you see the signs long before anyone else. But… it is good to be back," McCree said. "Now that this ship is rising out of its grave, why not see where it goes?"

Genji nodded. "I should go catch up with the 'tour group' before Tracer comes back to drag me there." He saluted McCree and jogged away to catch up to his master. He walked a pace behind Zenyatta, looking completely at home with him. McCree smiled.

McCree woke with a jolt. His dream had dissolved into a nightmare, the soft shimmering blue scales turning into dark mist, rushing at him, and then he woke up. He caught his breath and reveled for a moment in the relief that it hadn't been real. Of course it wasn't real, it couldn't be, it had only been an imaginary friend.

Years of being an outlaw had trained McCree to never fall asleep if he'd been startled awake, so he already knew he'd get no more rest. He rolled out of his bed, kicking the sheets aside and fumbling for his hat. He buckled his gun holster around his hips, gave Peacekeeper a pat, and left.

He was planning to take a walk around the base to clear his mind of the nightmare, but there's soft voices coming from the lounge. McCree shuffles towards the voices, walking into a soft glow coming from the door's dirty window. He pressed the switch, and the door slide open. Inside was Genji, Mercy, Tracer, and Torbjörn. The latter two held small glasses of what was likely alcohol, though McCree had never known Tracer to drink before.

"Oh, did we wake you?" said Mercy when she noticed McCree.

"No, I woke up of my own accord," McCree said. No one pried as to what he meant, and so he didn't ask why they might all be up. "Is there enough drink for another?"

"Ay," said Torbjörn, pouring McCree a glass and passing it over. McCree took it in his mechanical hand and took the nearest open seat, which was next to Genji and across from Tracer. He took a sip, feeling the alcohol burn his throat. A comforting, grounding feeling.

"I haven't seen you smoke since you've arrived," Mercy said. "Have you finally dropped the habit?"

She'd always been on everyone's ass about any less-than-healthy habits. "Nah, I've just gotten better at doing it when you ain't around," McCree answered with a wink.

"The people here may tolerate the the tobacco smell, but any new recruits might not," Mercy said. "Ugh, why am I arguing with you? It's too late for this." She rubbed her eyes, which now McCree noticed had dark circles under them. The angelic doctor had never been one for sleeping in.

"Speaking of new recruits," said Genji. His visor was still off, and his dark eyes gleamed in the low light. "I managed to talk to my brother again. I invited him to join us, here, if he should choose."

Mercy's eyes widened and she immediately leaned forward to place a hand on Genji's forearm. "Are you sure? After what he did?"

"I have forgiven him," Genji said solemnly. "Besides, his skills will be invaluable to our efforts. Despite his past actions, I believe him wholly trustworthy."

"Whoa now, am I missing something?" McCree interjected. "There's another Shimada? What are these 'past actions'?"

Mercy and Genji shared an unreadable look.

"Look, if you expect me to work with the guy, I'd like to know what he's done," said McCree.

Genji sighed. "It's only fair for them to know, Doctor Ziegler," he said. Mercy gave him a nervous look but nodded. Genji continued, "It's my elder brother, Hanzo. It was him who nearly killed me, and is the reason I now have this body."

Everyone stared at him. "It was yer own brother?" Torbjörn exclaimed. "And yer invitin' him here?"

"He only fought me because the clan ordered him to. My brother is different now, but back then, he was eager to please the rest of the Shimada's, and followed their advice blindly. But after our fight, he left the clan. Now they hunt him down for turning his back on them." Genji paused, taking a deep breath. "Our clan does not take kindly to any who break the ancient laws. For my brother to turn his back on our family, his future and everything he has known…" Genji looked up, eyes sweeping to meet those of everyone else, "it means more than you realize."

McCree didn't know what to make of the younger Shimada's story. His own brother tried to kill him. Not that McCree had left his family on pleasant terms, but none of them had tried to kill each other. How he could forgive his brother, McCree didn't know. Even though it wasn't his business, McCree couldn't help but feel anger for Genji.

"That's one hell of a tale," McCree said.

"I had no idea," Tracer said softly.

"It is in the past," Genji said. "I've come to peace with who I am now, and with what happened. So if my brother does decide to join us, I hope you will not harbor any anger towards him."

"If you've forgiven him, then I will, too," Tracer said. Torbjörn lifted his glass with a quiet "ay" in agreement.

McCree nodded. In his stomach, anger bubbled.

He needed to meet this brother himself.