I am so so sorry this took soooo long, lots of stuff going on at home and being sick, plus Jesse and Hanzo went all little kid on me and ran away and wouldn't tell me what happened next for their stories. But they's finally back and reluctantly tellin me some more of the story, so I can tell it to you.

Jesse stopped at a familiar place in the road, looking off to the left, feeling the ghosts of his past leave a chill as his memory faded to reality. Once upon a lifetime, in what felt like a different timeline, there had been a house there in the distance. A tall two story that he had slowly fell in love with, but now he had mixed feelings about thanks to his memories. The ruins were still there, telltale marks of flames on the beams that were still standing somehow despite the years of weather and strain. His dark eyes narrowed at it, remembering how it looked in his youth and the mixture of happiness and anger that was embodied into the place. He growled and shoved his hands in his pockets, walking up the road further, his pace relaxed but with strong purpose, he had to get to the shack and work some before heading back to the hotel to check on Santana.

"Can't be getting all side tracked now." Jesse scolded himself, closing his eyes to ignore the ghosts running past him, more memories trying to flood his senses and send him backwards in time. "What's done is done ol' boy." He sighed heavily looking up into the sky, it looked like it could rain yet again. Dark clouds rolling over the sky like a blanket being pulled over the earth, it threatened to rain down on Jesse and he still had some ways to go before he reached his shack. He walked for a while more, watching his boots kick up a little dust on the old dirt road as he trudged along.

"What good are ghosts?" He asked himself, kicking a soda can that hit his boot, bullet holes in the thin tin making it whistle as it flew through the air. "Not like you can change anything that happened before? Why bother us with memories? All they do is sour the mood and remind you that your gettin' old..." He looked down the road, turning to face the other direction, the small old town laid out below. "If I'd knew what I know now, I'd do things totally different...but, it's not like I can tell my ghosts that..." He felt a rush of warm air from the left and looked into it, closing his eyes and welcoming it like a tender touch of a lover. When it died, he opened his eyes, there was a large field to the left with a small, odd, broken fence. Perhaps someone had once used it to keep in livestock, but even in Jesse's youth it had been abandoned and forgotten.

He saw ghosts there too, many of them overlapping one another, some from good happy days and some from days he'd rather forget. He could hear the echoes of bottles breaking, cans being hit and gunshots exploding in the silence as the wind blew past again, another warm gust like a warning of anger.

"If only I knew." Jesse mumbled to himself, turning and forcing himself to walk further up the road, leaving the ghosts to their devices. The shack wasn't far now, and he knew he would still be assaulted with ghosts from the past, even there. Especially there. Although the ghosts there seemed to haunt him everywhere he went. Memories of Gabriel, Jack, Ana and even Genji, those ghosts were with him like companions. He was used to their presence and was better prepared to fend them off, but Rosa's ghost only haunted him when he returned to Santa Fe. And when confronted with the memory of her, his only escape was a bottle of alcohol. It wasn't as if he didn't think of her outside of Santa Fe, he thought of her every day, but here in the town where they met, was the only place where his memories haunted him and made him slow down. Here was where it hurt the most.

Jesse stomped up the little steps, kicking the dirt from his boots before digging in his breast pocket for a little ring of keys he kept close. He flipped around to the right key and inserted it, jiggling the handle until it fit and turned easily. Gotta fix that damn thing. Jesse sighed mentally, pushing the door open and looking around the front room. Nothing in the room had been touched since he had been there two months ago: the couch still had the white bed sheet thrown across it to keep off the dust and the walls remained bare of photos. Photos just made the ghosts stick around longer and made him upset. He stepped inside and deposited the key ring in a small white bowl on a table to the left, as if it was his everyday routine.

He kicked off his boots without bending over and kicked them against the table so that they were clear of the door, he didn't want to spend his time sweeping up after himself when there was other work to be done. He grabbed the little notebook from the top drawer of the table and flipped it open and read his chicken scratch handwriting.

To do:

Wiring needs to be messed with in the bedroom

Fix the Window in the bathroom

Sink Drippin in the kitchen

Ceiling fan is backwards in living room

His brow furrowed, despite him writing the list himself he wasn't sure what he meant by it, having written it two months and several bottles of Jim ago. He looked up and reached back behind him, flipping on a light switch by the door. The ceiling fan kicked on and started wobbling violently, threatening to fall at a moments notice. Jesse groaned and flipped the light switch back off, he remembered now. He picked up the pen in the top drawer and added to the list: fix the doorknob.

He put the notepad on the little table and closed the drawer, he wouldn't be able to tackle everything on the list before he had to leave again, and he was sure other problems would show themselves-they always did, so the notepad would stay in this spot and he would add to it and mark off jobs he had already taken care of until the list needed to be rewritten. He started to the bedroom, opening the door and peeking inside.

This was part of the house he had built himself, when he was a teenager the living room had served as a bedroom for the crew, the actual bedroom was used as a storage room for weapons and equipment then because it had been so small, just enough for one cot. So Jesse had started building onto it over the years, but he was having trouble with the wiring. He flipped the switch but nothing happened, he sighed and opened the door the rest of the way as he took in the sight. The walls were dark and void of decoration save for a window on each of the three outside facing walls, a bed against the far wall, under the window facing the woods. There was a light layer of dust and Jesse sighed, he would need to wash those sheets to keep a musty smell from forming the house while he was gone.

He eyed the closet, wandering slightly if the light was working in there, he had only written the bedroom. As he crossed the floor a flash of light and a rumble of thunder made him pause for only a second, there was the storm, which meant he didn't need to be messing with the wires until it passed. He sighed again, feeling agitated as he finished crossing the room to the closet and opened the door, reaching up and pulling the string for the light, relieved as it clicked on and lit up the small closet where he had some old relics from his past hanging up. He eyed a jacket and took it off the hanger, surprised at its weight, he didn't remember it being that heavy when he wore it. It was one he had worn during his time spent with Rosa, the sleeves had been cut off the blue jean jacket to make it a vest and patches sewn onto it for the personal touch.

Who knew the last time Jesse had been in that closet, looked at those clothes, seen this jacket? He turned and walked to the bed, sitting down, hearing it groan in protest as it sank with his foreign weight. Rubbing the material in his hands he looked over the front, there was the blackwatch patch Gabriel had given him sewn over the heart on a pocket that had the button missing. There was a patch on the other side that said 'what a beautiful day, now watch some asshole fuck it up.' and it made him chuckle, he hadn't changed as much over the years as he thought. He ran his hands over the pockets and felt a wave of confusion as something heavy was in the left pocket but the shape felt vaguely familiar. He reached inside and once his hand touched the item he felt his heart sink, it was a gun-a pistol to be exact.

"So," he sighed and put the jacket down on the bed, turning the small Glock over in his hands. "This is where you got off to." He shook his head gently as he racked the slide, checking to confirm it was unloaded, when he saw it was empty in the chamber he released the slide and ejected the magazine, checking it too before replacing it. It had been the gun he had suggested that Rosa start off with, however, the young girl had been insistent on buying a revolver similar to Jesse's Peacekeeper. "Can't believe you've been here all these years..." He sighed and ran his hands over the cool metal as another flash of lightning lit up the darkened room. He had spent some time wondering about this gun, and this jacket, but he stood quickly and shook his head as he tossed the gun down on the bed.

No, can't be getting sucked down memory lane. Been doing that enough lately, daylights burning. Might as well fix that damn knob, or the sink.

He stormed out of the room and started to close the door, looking over his shoulder at the jacket and gun laying on the bed, then the closet door he had left open, the light on. He sucked his teeth and pushed himself further toward the other side of the house, not wanting to hang around in the bedroom for fear his ghosts would get too strong. His hands needed work, his mind needed to be something in the present.

He made it to the kitchen and cursed, seeing the old familiar table had caused other ghosts to come out to haunt him. For a split second Jesse reached to his hip for his gun, seeing a big man dressed in black sitting at the kitchen table with his back to him, but when he blinked it was gone. He covered his eyes and took in a deep breath to steady his shaking nerves. When would these damn phantoms move on and leave him alone?

He slowly pulled his hand away and scanned the room for the specter or any others that may have been lurking, but he was alone. He gave himself a few more breaths through his nose before he moved, hand idly grazing the kitchen tables surface as he passed to the storage room on the far side of the room, the furthest room in the house away from the bedroom. He opened the door and reached inside, grabbing a toolbox from the wooden shelf he built and closing the door back. Another flash of light and rumble from the sky made him look out the window to his right, out the dirt road that lead to the cabin.

It was pouring the rain now, the distant trees a green and brown blur that was trying to melt with the water on the glass. Jesse sighed and walked slowly over to the sink, he'd be there a while, he needed to get comfortable with the silence. He placed the toolbox down on the counter and watched for a moment, but the sink wasn't dripping, then he remembered he had been gone for so long, he had forgotten he had shut the water off. But as he opened the cabinet to the underbelly of the sink more memories tried to surface, not just of Rosa but of Gabe and Genji too. He turned the knob on the water valve before standing and turning the cold water knob, waiting to see water pour from the faucet.

He blinked and for a moment the sink wasn't as dirty and aged as it was in reality