Two months. He'd been at this only two months and he was doing way too well for someone of his age and experience. He could probably thank his father's genetics or something. Or the fact his father was basically a super soldier experiment gone right. He definitely had some of it that was for sure. He sighed as he went over his accepted assignments for the day. Mostly killings and simple thieveries. He smirked under his mask and pulled his hood up, sliding down a light pole. He was finally seventeen, having had his birthday the month before. It was odd to be having a birthday alone but it didn't matter.

He moved through the night almost silently, taking out target after target. He knew he was probably being used for someone's agenda or another but he didn't have a choice. He needed money to survive. He had to survive to keep his morals alive.

He reached the last target, some wealthy man's daughter and kept to the shadows in an alley, hood up and breathing quiet. She was on the phone at the end of the alleyway, talking brightly. Her blonde hair was braided back and...was that a nose ring? She had green eyes too. The more he listened to the voice, the more he realized he knew who it was.

"Yeah...Still no word from Andres. It's been four years, I know, but he was my best friend. I feel so guilty for not helping him and they never found his body after the shooting so...Maybe he got out of there? I don't know. Is it bad to hope?"

Carmen. She had escaped the shooting after all. She looked so much better than when he last saw her. Her skin was clean and she looked flawless. Her clothes were high end and pressed. Her hands were even manicured. He unholstered his gun and took the safety off, walking forward until the gun was against the back of her head, causing her to gasp and drop her phone. He took a calming breath and spoke.

"Lo siento...Carmen."

BANG

She fell to the ground, dead and he quietly holstered his gun, making a sign of the cross and turning, walking away from the scene like nothing happened. He was glad nobody had witnessed the shot and when he kept his head down nobody could see the blood splattered across his face and goggles. By the time he reached his home base he was shaking a little. He just killed Carmen. All for some money. He felt like a monster. He took off his gear and scrubbed the blood out of it all, hanging it on a clothesline he made across the far wall before heading into the shower.

He watched what blood had gotten onto his skin go down the drain, sighing before washing himself. He needed to let it go. These were things that happened when you left innocence behind. Maybe this was just his lack of medication talking though. He'd run out about a week ago and seemed to be having more and more nightmares. He let his mind wander under the hot water until he had to get out, drying off.

He wondered if he could score his medication on the street. He couldn't be his gun for hire self when he did, that was for sure. He sighed and grabbed a spare black hoodie from the closet and a random shirt from his dresser before putting them on along with some baggy pants. He tied his hair back and nodded to himself, slipping out through the fire escape and heading out into the streets.

He seemed to endlessly wander the streets until he found someone selling drugs in a back alley. He had his pocket knife on him in his brace...something just in case this ended badly. He approached the man who seemed to be more for hard drugs instead of prescription.

He still tried to score something and came up with a temporary alternative. Marijuana. It was better than nothing...right? He lit up and inhaled, attempting to relax. He probably would have achieved it too if it wasn't for the building he was leaning on exploding. He tried to cover his face with his arm but everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Was that a second explosion? Everything was so bright and when it came back into focus his ears were ringing and his right arm was screaming in pain. There was also a voice but he couldn't see who it was immediately. The more everything came into focus, the more he realized who it was.

"Mijo...Mijo can you hear me? Oh god….Oh my god…"

It was...It was his father. Was he hallucinating? He had to be. Here was his father in a black hoodie, hair and beard streaked with greys and whites and face covered in deep scars. Like an explosion. He tried to reach his arm up but his father held him down. He couldn't feel his left leg either and his chest felt weird. Was this how he dies?

"Pa...pa?"

"Si mijo. I'm here. I'm here. Don't move. It's okay. It's okay."

"Where…"

"No more talking Mijo. No more talking. God...I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. Andres…It took everything I had to leave you. I never wanted this for you. I…"

Something was wrong...deathly wrong. The more he looked at his father, the more he realized his skin would peel away before forming back and bits of what looked like shadow would slip out or move under his skin. It made sense now...His father was Reaper. He could hear sirens coming and his father got up, leaving a bag with a note attached. Andres lost consciousness after that.

When he woke up again he felt cold. So very cold. He didn't know where he was or if he was dead. Not until the soft beeping of machines came to his ears. He was in a hospital? He groaned softly and let his eyes adjust to the bright lights as a nurse came over.

"It's okay sir, you're safe. Don't try to move just yet. The bioware hasn't fully connected."

Bioware? He remembered the explosion, his father's skin and how unnaturally it moved on his body. So he got hurt in the explosion but...how much. He managed to turn his head to see his entire right arm and shoulder was mechanical now. Well...That was probably good at least. He finally could use as much strength as he wanted. His left leg probably was since he left cold there...across his chest too. How much had that blast taken. Why his father was there was more important to him in that moment.

He slowly healed in that hospital bed, getting out of that bed as soon as he could and getting his strength back. The nurse was sweet enough and left the note for him to read when he wasn't allowed up. As soon as he was fully healed, he left with the note in the middle of the night, leaving no trace he was ever there.

Mijo,

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything I've done but I'm not myself anymore. I wish I could be the father I should have been. The father Jack wanted me to be. The father I should have been to Jesse. Take this money. It was the money Jack put away towards your college but...I doubt you'll be able to do that now. Stay safe...Me tomó todo lo que tenía...It took everything I had to leave you there so please. Stop fighting and just hide before Talon turns you into what they made me into. Please…

Your Father,

G. Reyes

He never really was a kid who followed orders and he sure as hell wasn't going to now. He did drop off the gun for hire stuff for a few months to train his new body but as soon as he was in top shape he was at it again which got the attention of a very specific audience.

A.T.H.E.N.A NEW MISSION

AGENTS: MCCREE, SOLDIER:76, MERCY

FIND THE MERCENARY REDENCIÓN AND BRING HIM IN.


Jesse looked over the message a thousand times but still couldn't believe it. Some teenager with a Spanish sounding tag name. It had to be Andres. Who else could it be. He got out of the bed he and his boyfriend Hanzo shared and headed out, knowing this was not going to be a fun mission. He walked to the plane to see Mercy and Morrison already there. He could feel Jack's tension.

"It might not be him."

"Might not be who Jesse?"

"Nothin Angela. Don't worry."

With that they boarded the plane, the two men praying it wasn't him. Andres at the time was doing more jobs than he had ever expected. He was faster, stronger and could climb things without much difficulty. He had reintegrated the energy shield into his bioware and his switchblade was welded into the metal of the back of his hand for a close range attack. He was walking away from his latest kill when he heard a gun cock behind him.

"Turn around…"

"Mm? Why should I vaquero."

"I wanna see your face!"

Andres turned slowly, one hand on his gun and the other hitting the wall to spark up the energy shield. He let out a calm breath into the cold spring air, smirking beneath his mask. He then heard a pulse rifle charging behind him. Ah...the old guy again. And McCree. Neither probably knew it was him so he could probably work with this. He moved fast, shooting at the old guy and striking at McCree as he let a shot off that connected the welded knife in his arm. Thank god for bioware. He moved around Jesse and took off down the street. He didn't get far though as a net fell on him.

"Fucking! AGH! Let me go!"

The two men appeared and grabbed the end of the net, dragging him along until his head hit something hard enough to knock him out. This really wasn't what he was planning his day to go like.

When he woke up again his hands were tied behind his back and his head was killing him. He sat up slowly, trying to move the blade on his arm to cut his restraints. A little struggling and his hands were freed. He then surveyed his surroundings. Looked like a holding cell with only one door. He smirked and typed in a code he knew by heart now.

4^6\3&.

The door slid open and he checked the hallway. Nothing. He smirked and checked himself over. Still had his goggles and mask. His jacket was still on. He didn't have his gun. He had the blade attached to his arm though so it was better than nothing. He quietly crept down the hall, only to hear a voice behind him.

"Now where do you think you're going young man."

He turned and saw McCree, arms folded with bunny slippers on. So it was night. How long had he even been out. He huffed and faced Jesse fully, looking unimpressed.

"We meet again vaquero."

"Andres cut the shit. Take them mask off and come on. I gotta ask you questions."

"Andres? Whose Andres."

"Come on you idiot before I drag you."

"...Fine."

He followed after Jesse to a small room with two chairs and a table, Andres opting to stay standing as Jesse looked over what little info they had on his tag name. Andres could see Jesse hadn't slept well. Had he been staying up and watching him in case he really was...He let the thought leave his head.

"Face gear off."

"No."

"Take it off or I'll rip it off."

Andres rolled his eyes and unclipped the mask, letting it fall into his hand before removing his goggles. Jesse seemed to be looking over his face with something of fear and awe.

"You look so much like your father."

"No shit."

"Alright...Jacket and hoodie off."

"Whatever."

He put the mask and goggles on the table before removing the jacket and hoodie, only having a tanktop underneath. Jesse seemed to study his body with a frown. Andres spoke before he even had the chance to ask.

"Explosions. One knocked me back, closer one took my arm and leg along with part of my chest. Irony since my fathers supposedly died in an explosion. Guess being safe from explosions is a family thing."

"Andres…"

"No. I'm tired of being quiet. I'm tired of all this shit. You never decided maybe, just maybe I might be in a shit ton of trouble? Where the fuck were you when Claire died! Why didn't you come for me!"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Sure you didn't."

"Andres...We've been looking for you for a year."

"Well you fucking found me."

"At this point, after what you've done now, you have two choices. Overwatch or you go to jail."

"Overwatch."

"Good choice kid...Room's already set up."