Author's Note: Hey y'all! Sorry for the slow updates! Unfortunately I think that's just par for the course as I go... But as long as y'all don't mind waiting a lil' I promise to update regularly!

Anyways, in other news, I have a new beta y'all! Please give a hand for AutumnRave, who has to deal with (and fix) all of my silly mistakes! There are a lot y'all, I failed spelling in fourth grade, idk how I got into college with a D on my elementary record...

Jokes aside, I hope you enjoy the next installment of Kick Off Your Boots: Courage is Being Scared to Death and Saddling Up Anyways.

Chapter 4: Courage is Being Scared to Death

Drawing imaginary circles on the polished desk beside her, Angela snuck furtive glances at her boyfriend (question mark appended, seeing as how the status of their relationship was still under discussion), transfixed by the handsome good looks she'd missed for the better part of a week, but also trying to steel herself to deal with the man. As it happened, attractiveness made for an awful good negotiator.

"They were honestly going to torture me, Jack." She said quietly. Did he really not believe her? "Jesse saved my life, you know."

"Jesse is a member of the Deadlock Gang." The commander stated firmly. "In all likelihood, the gang had him appear sympathetic to you so they could get you on their side. He was just playing you this whole time."

She didn't want to believe that. The cowboy had seemed so earnest, so genuine… There was no way that kiss was fake! Angela opened her mouth to say as much, but upon realizing what a mistake that would have been, shut it immediately.

Jack walked around the desk, and stood before her, tall and strong. "They're evil men, Ange. It's their job to manipulate you and hurt you."

Looking up at him, she wondered about his statement. "They didn't seem evil, Jack. They seemed real."

He sighed, looking down at her apologetically. "I know… Telling you the truth probably doesn't help you feel better anyways. I guess you just need some time to process what happened out there."

She did need time. Everything had been a blur, swirling around her like a mad mess. Hell, she didn't even know how she felt at that precise moment. Was she even mad at Jack still?

Jack gently took her hands in his. "You had a rough time, didn't you, Ange?"

She had, hadn't she? It was bad, she'd cried so much, no thanks to him… But now here he was, comforting her. Angela looked up at his soft eyes with her own teary orbs.

"I'm sorry." He whispered before pulling her comfortingly into his arms. "I shouldn't have risked your life, even if it seemed to me that you'd make it out ok."

Angela could only cry quietly in response. There were so many emotions puzzling through her head she could hardly identify them herself, much less vocalize them to her boyfriend (no question mark).

"I shouldn't have taken the risk. You're too precious to lose, you know that, right?"

They were swaying romantically now, his embrace comforting and consoling in every way she needed, his words soothing every sore point she had. Angela had been so adamant about ending her relationship before she stepped foot into his office, but now…

It was all a misunderstanding, right? Perhaps she'd overreacted back in the Deadlock Gang's warehouse.

She nodded weakly in response.

"I know…" He sighed. "I know it's unreasonable to expect you to come back to me after what has transpired between us, but that doesn't mean I don't hope you will."

"I was so scared, Jack." She sobbed. "I wanted you to save me."

"Shh, shh." He rubbed her back and set his chin to her head, encompassing her in a sphere of welcome protection. "I'm here now. And I'll never let you go again, ever, do you hear me? Ever."

Angela laughed despite her wet eyes. "Ever? You'll never get any work…" Another quick sob, "done if you don't let me go."

"So be it." He said in a declarative manner that made him seem all the more the hero. "This scared you the last time I said it, but, you should know this, Angela. I love you."

She squeezed him tight. "I love you, too."

It came out more as a "I wuh wuh wuh" than anything, but he knew what she meant. And now she really meant it, didn't she? Back in his arms, after a life and death scenario… She'd missed him so damn much. It seemed her whole issue controlling herself around Jesse was just a manifestation of her longing for Jack.

That is what it was, wasn't it?

Regardless, those were thoughts that no longer applied. Jesse was out of the picture, she was back in safety, and clearly, clearly, Jack was still in love with her. She'd been so silly, crying for two days over nothing.

Well, if she learned anything, she learned how hard it was to lose someone you loved.

An obnoxious knock on the door interrupted their tender moment.

"Morrison. Need to speak to you." It was Reyes, whom Angela really didn't much care for.

"Later, Reyes. I'm busy at the moment." The commander grumbled, much to the medic's delight.

"I don't give a shit for your relationship drama." The other man said bluntly. "We have business to take care of."

Angela felt Jack groan, then extract himself from the embrace. He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "I'm sorry, Ange. Looks like he needs help. We'll get dinner tonight, just you and me. Sound good?"

She smiled sweetly up at his pure blue eyes, and then, without a lick of shame, walked past Reyes with her tear stained face held high. Who cared if the leader of Blackwatch thought they had relationship issues, or thought she was a wishy washy woman, Angela had her man back and that was that.

When Jesse had sacrificed his IOU to save little Miss Swiss, he'd never imagined that action would land his ass in the torture chair.

Ok, so that might be a little dramatic to assert, that if he hadn't saved Angela she wouldn't have gotten him captured (Jesse sure as hell knew he was bound to have been got one of these days), and that the chair he was in was even for torturing. Interrogation chair might have been a better word for it, but there was no mistaking the dried up splotch of blood on the floor. The clinical room seemed spotless with the exception of that spec of blood, and Jesse idly wondered if they'd left it there on purpose.

"McCree, is it?" The man known as Gabriel Reyes looked down at him inquisitively.

"Yessir." He smiled in return. There weren't no harm in being friendly.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face." The Overwatch soldier commanded while two lackeys of his leaned against the wall, snickering. "We're not here for fun."

Apparently there was harm in it.

"Here's the deal, McCree." Reyes started. "Overwatch, more specifically, a division of Overwatch known as Blackwatch, has an interest in you. Now, we're willing to forgo your would-be prison sentence if you sign up to join us."

"Well, I reckon that's a mighty easy decision to make." He replied. "I accept."

Reyes snorted sardonically. "We aren't done yet. In order for us to trust you, we're going to be needing some information about the Deadlock Gang, are we clear?"

"Let me get this straight." Jesse cocked his head to the side. "You want me to forsake my gang to prove I'm a loyal, straight-shootin' feller?"

"About right." The soldier replied with a straight face.

"Well, no can do, good sir. I ain't in the business of tellin' on my men."

"They aren't your men anymore, McCree." Reyes raised an eyebrow. "You know if you don't volunteer the information we have to get it out of you somehow, right?"

"Torture me, eh?" So he was right, about the chair being a torture chair and all. "How you expect me to be loyal to Overwatch after I been beaten and tortured?"

"I don't fucking care about your loyalty, McCree." Reyes retorted. "Look, Blackwatch has an agenda and we want two things from you: information about the Deadlock Gang and your aim. I don't give a shit if the reason you stick around is for the sole purpose of killing me, so long as it keeps you working for Overwatch. You're a damn idiot if you think we're not going to put tracking devices on you, I'll say that much."

Jesse made to fold his arms, but that proved kind of difficult seeing as how his hands were cuffed behind a chair. So he mostly just flexed his biceps instead. "Do your worst, Reyes."

"Fine." The soldier smiled. It weren't a nice one neither. "I will."

The beating wasn't that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Jesse was one kick shy of sure that he had a broken rib bone, as well as a broken nose and a couple of missing teeth. There was no mistaking that he was hurt and in pain, but considering some of the stories he'd heard, what he'd suffered was largely reparable.

Reyes stepped away from the prone cowboy, sitting down at the table with an exaggerated sigh. "Get up."

A part of Jesse wanted to resist, to be insubordinate, but was it really losing another tooth over?

With not an insignificant amount of pain, Jesse stood, slowly, and glared at the soldier.

"Sit."

And so he did.

Jesse collapsed in the chair facing Reyes, knowing full well what was about to follow.

"You ready to talk now?" Reyes raised an eyebrow at him, small smirk playing at his lips. The man liked to pretend to be apathetic, but it was clear that if there was one thing this soldier liked, it was causing people pain. More specifically, at that particular point in time, causing Jesse pain.

His question proved tough for Jesse. Talk or be tortured? He knew he was being tortured with restraint, Reyes still hoped to get some use out of him, after all. Perhaps he could endure long enough to make the soldier frustrated enough and give up.

"Not in particular." Jesse grunted in response.

Reyes sighed. "Are you a masochist or what?"

"I ain't," He breathed heavily, just trying to keep up with all the pain he was experiencing. "No masochist."

"Right, well, Jesse I didn't want to have to start really hurting you until I had confirmation that we could fix you up after, but here's the deal. Blackwatch cares more about your information than your help, you follow?"

Bluffing. Jesse was sure of it.

"So we're going to have to step the interrogation up a notch." Reyes snapped at his two assistants, whom the cowboy had almost entirely forgot about. There was no denying Reyes took an active role in the torture of one Jesse McCree, but even he could not accomplish so much in so short an amount of time.

One of the brutes came up to him, grabbed a hold of his arm, and with leather straps secured it to the table. The other slid a butcher knife over to Reyes.

Jesse did not like where this was headed.

"Last chance cowboy." The soldier say as he raised the cleaver, positioning it just over the tips of his fingers.

This was going to hurt. Damn it was going to hurt. He just had to brace himself, Jesse'd experienced much pain in his lifetime, and this was going to be no different. But a part of him wondered, deep down, if he would end up sacrificing his life for the Deadlock Gang? They were important, sure, but what if there was no stopping Reyes? Beyond that, was having his fingers chopped like carrots even worth saving the likes of Lucky Sam? Sure, the boss was generally a good guy, but… For the price of his flesh?

A knock on the door followed by a head popping in interrupted the tense moment.

"Reyes, the medic is here."

The soldier, much to Jesse's delight, set the butcher knife down. "Oh? Excellent. Have her wait in the lobby."

Her?

Was the medic Angela?

The intruder left just as swiftly as he had came, and, if the look on Reye's face was any indication, things had just gotten a hell of a lot worse for Jesse, but he didn't immediately know why.

"You know, McCree, I'm surprised you haven't asked why a noble organization such as Overwatch has approved methods such as torture." Why the sudden change of conversation?

"I assumed you were working behind your superior's backs." Jesse replied simply.

"No, no. I'd never do that." Reyes smiled. "I got approval to torture you, actually. From the big man downtown himself, Jack Morrison."

Oh, that bastard.

"Well, to be accurate, Morrison said I could 'rough you up a bit', but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, eh, Jesse?"

The cowboy looked at him scrutinizingly. "What're you insinuating?"

"All I'm saying is that to make sure you don't seem too worse for wear when you do go back to Overwatch and Morrison does see you, we got one of our medics to come all the way over here to our base in Russia and keep you 'patched up', as it were." Reyes then leaned forward, and in a near whisper, asked, "You wouldn't happen to be acquainted with Angela Ziegler, would you?"

If that didn't drain the blood from Jesse's face, nothing would.

"Word is she and Morrison have already gotten back together." He added nonchalantly.

Reyes was playing him, and he knew it. Chances were Angela was nowhere nearby.

"I know she might have seemed interested in you back in Arizona, but the truth is, whatever it was she felt for you is going to crumple when she sees you here, beaten and useless."

Jesse didn't want to admit how much those words stung him. He frowned at the table, trying to suppress his emotions. Angela, back with her bastard of a boyfriend? Taking pity on him? Worrying about his wounds just to turn around and tuck into some other man's bed when nighttime came? He couldn't stand it.

"You want to talk now?" Reaper asked.

"No." He replied out of sheer stubbornness.

The soldier laughed. "Right. Change of plan boys. Let's tie him down."

Jesse knew he was in for something bad, but not in a million years could he have imagined the excruciating pain and terror he experienced as he was tied down to a board, had a cloth wrap over his face, and was subjected to having water poured into his mouth and nose. It took an hour and twenty minutes before Jesse finally drowned.

Waiting in an unfurnished, clinical room in the middle of a sparsely populated base in rural Russia, Angela knew something bad was going down just a few rooms away. She'd been called to service by one of the few Blackwatch members she actually respected, Genji Shimada, but he'd offered no information on the nature of he summons. Simply put, the cryptic ninja had said, "Reyes requests your help".

Well, Gabriel Reyes had only "requested her help" twice in the past, and neither for very good reasons. The first time, he'd gotten into a fist fight with Jack and needed help with a black eye and broken rib. That wasn't too bad, especially considering that the second time he'd summoned her, it had been to heal a prisoner, who, in hindsight, had obviously been tortured.

Angela, of course, had reported the incident to Jack immediately. He'd tried to take action against Reyes, but without concrete evidence, was left with only a sour taste on his tongue. It was no secret that the commander of Blackwatch and the commander of Overwatch rarely got along, and their differences on the subject of torture was just another rift between the two. For her part, Angela tended to side with Jack on the subject matter.

Leastways, Angela was almost positive that the reason she had been ordered halfway around the globe to Russia, where torture technically wasn't "legal" but was sure as hell a lot easier to get away with, probably meant she'd have to patch up some troubled soul. This time, though, she'd learn from her mistakes. She'd get proof.

"Reyes needs you now." One of his assistants told her plainly, before escorting her to the torture room.

She followed dutifully, phone unlocked and camera ready in her pocket, accessible at a moment's notice.

When she entered the torture chamber though, she was wholly and entirely caught off guard by what she saw. The two guards, Reyes with his sleeves rolled up, even the blood spatter and what she was pretty sure was a tooth discarded on the ground didn't bother her. At least, not in comparison to the other sight in the room.

At first glance, it seemed relatively harmless. Just a man, clearly a little roughed up, strapped to a plank of horizontal wood and definitely unconscious. But she'd be lying if she said that was just any other man. No, that man was Jesse McCree.

Letting out a small, involuntary yelp of surprise, Angela rushed over to his side and pressed her ear to his chest to see if his heart was still beating and his lungs were still breathing. But as she pressed her head to his shirt, she noticed one thing. The fabric was damp.

What?

But she had little time to worry about that. Jesse's blood was still pumping, thank goodness, but he'd stopped breathing altogether.

"What have you done?!" She yelled breathlessly at Reyes before prying Jesse's lips open, pinching his nose, and pressing her open mouth to his, breathing into him.

She gave him two breaths, then thirty chest compressions, trying to keep the life within him.

Another two breaths, and another thirty chest compressions. Breathe damnit! Two breaths, thirty chest compressions. Two breaths, thirty chest compressions. She repeated the motions seven times until, by some manner of luck, Jesse coughed up water and inhaled sharply.

Angela watched him anxiously for another minute until it was clear the cowboy was capable of breathing on his own again.

"Alright, Miss Ziegler, thank you for your time, I think we are done here." Reyes said in a voice that she knew meant he was smirking. She'd played right into his hands. But how?

"I think not, Gabriel!" Angela exclaimed, examining Jesse, bruised and battered and wet. She realized now the dampness and unconsciousness was probably from waterboarding. "It's pretty clear to me you've been torturing him, and, as you very well know, I won't stand for torture!"

"We haven't been torturing him." Reyes said simply.

Turning on him, Angela shot the soldier a fierce glare. "You most certainly have. I'll see that you pay for your crimes!"

"Hah. I doubt that." He laughed sardonically.

"You brought this man to near death, only to have him brought back to life for, what, more torture? How do you think it feels, Gabriel, to experience an immense wealth of pain, come to terms with the fact that you are going to die, only to be resurrected, having to face life, and pain, all over again?"

"Bad, I guess." He shrugged apathetically. "Look, if I ever need to be resurrected, you'll be the first I call. In the meantime, though, I have unfinished business with McCree."

"I'm reporting you to Jack." She asserted before remembering her phone, taking it out, and snapping pictures of Jesse for proof.

"What are you doing?" Jesse whimpered weakly.

"My thoughts precisely. Have you gone mad, Ziegler?" Reyes's voice boomed in the small, unfurnished room.

"I'm getting my proof!" Angela replied.

"Jack already cleared me for torture."

He what?

Angela whipped around to face Reyes, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Well, he said I could rough him up a bit." The commander of Blackwatch amended.

"THIS IS NOT ROUGHING HIM UP A BIT, YOU SADISTIC MONSTER." She screamed. "I'LL SEE YOU IN JAIL FOR YOUR CRIMES."

Reyes laughed at her outburst. "Yeah right. You could get me for assault and battery, at best."

"You're delusional if you think I won't try!" She yelled back. "Now get out of here and call an ambulance!"

"No, Ziegler, it's you that needs to leave." He said ominously, his lackeys stepping forward. That was not a good sign.

"You can't lay a hand on me." She hissed. "Jack will have your hide faster than you can confess to the crime."

Reyes spat on the ground. "Your insolent boyfriend can suck my dick for all I care."

"For all you care won't save you from being dishonorably discharged and having your ass thrown in jail." She countered.

Reyes looked like he was trying to kill her with his glare. It was a scary glare, to be sure, but Angela was not about to back down.

"Get out." She said firmly, pointing at the exit with her index finger.

Sighing, he looked at his assistants. "Looks like we're done here boys. I guess I underestimated your baser feelings for the cowboy. Had I known, I would have requested a more dispassionate medic."

"Damn right you should have requested someone else, you arrogant pissant!" She called at him as he walked out the door.

But the soldier just left, seemingly unmoved by her words of prosecution.

And, truth be told, Angela knew deep down that it would be hard to charge him with torture. Nevermind that he'd done it in Russia of all places, he'd waterboarded Jesse, and that was tricky to prove at best.

Looking down at Jesse, beaten and bruised and still strapped to the plank, Angela wanted very badly to hurt Reyes. How could he do such a thing? To another human being? And yet, she knew the exact same characteristic of hers fueling this rage was the same reason she could never bring herself to harm Reyes, no matter how mad she was. Angela didn't have it in her to willingly cause people harm, and while most of the time that proved to be a blessing, when it came to exacting revenge it was more of a curse.

Angela only realized she had started to cry when a tear dripped on her hand as she was cutting off the straps that restrained Jesse with a Swiss Army Knife. She was startled when a pruned finger wiped away a tear from her cheek gently.

"How come," The cowboy started in a hoarse voice. "I'm the one that's been tortured but you're the one that's crying?"

She looked at him with sad, glossy eyes. "Why aren't you crying, Jesse?"

"Guess I cried enough before you showed up." He replied solemnly.

Tears started to well in her eyes following that comment.

"I'm glad you did, though." He added. "Show up, that is."

"I can't believe he did this to you." She murmured, wiping his damp strands of hair away from his face.

"You care for me that much?" He asked, tentatively. At first, she had wondered if Jesse was being the Jesse she had come to know in the American Southwest, flirtatious and playful even in the most serious of situations. But there was something about the inflection of his voice, something she couldn't quite put a finger on, that told her he was genuinely asking a question.

"Yes." She replied sincerely. "I do, Jesse."

It was hard to see, what with the water and already prominent discoloration in his face, but she saw it all the same. A tear, then followed by another, rumoring of just how much pain the man had endured.

"I was so scared, Angela." He confessed, voice shaking. "I was sure I would die in this room."

She stroked his face tenderly, hoping to comfort him in his time of need. "Jesse, you're a hero." He looked up at her with an emotion she couldn't quite identify, but whatever it was, it made her smile. "Heroes never die."