McCree's eyes flickered open weakly and he blinked up into the hideous fluorescent lighting. How long had he been out…? The boy groaned and sat up, rather groggily at that and almost uncomprehendingly looked at the monitors attached to him. He slowly ripped each one out and set the monitors on the fritz and quickly stood, swaying a little as he did. Where the-?

In some Overwatch base then? The infirmary.

Jesus he was weak... Jesse hesitated when he noticed something very wrong; his left arm was just...not there. He raised his arm, which was simply a heavily bandaged stump.

Oh god, nonononono. This couldn't be- what?

The boy staggered frantically and crashed into the collection of monitors behind him and grunted in pain. How long had he been out? Where the- well, he could guess where he was- and where the hell was-

The door to his room slid open and the most beautiful woman McCree had ever seen rushed in.

"You shouldn't be up!" She barked, sounding angry. "Get back into bed, ah ah, don't mind the monitors." She scolded gently and nudged Jesse back into his bed

"Am I dreamin'?" Jesse wondered aloud and he turned his groggy gaze on this woman who looked damn near angelic at the moment.

"Nein." Said the lady, "Just a little delirious. You'll be alright."

"How long I been out, doc?" The boy muttered after a few moments of trying to get his spinning head under control.

"A week."

Jesse coughed slightly, "You're shittin' me…"

"I'm afraid not," the woman sighed. "Just rest. You'll need it, Jesse." With that, the doctor turned to leave to get someone to help her clean up the mess.

"You got a name?" Jesse rasped, surprised by how dry and weak his voice was due to lack of use for an entire week.

"Ja. Angela. Angela Ziegler. It's...a pleasure." The woman- "Angela" said, forcing a smile.

He supposed he'd be forcing smiles too if he was talking to a painfully obvious lost cause.

The kid just nodded, offering a slight grin. "That's a beautiful name, ma'am." He said and heaved a sigh, sinking back into his bed.

With that, he fell asleep once more, no matter how he tried not to. Dammit. He wasn't gonna let them do…

He was vaguely aware of a voice later on that startled him from his sleep.

No, two voices.

"...he ready?" That douchebag- Gabriel...right?

"He's just a boy, Gabriel." That was Angela.

"I understand that, Ziegler. I've got a plan, no need to worry." He said and waved her off.

Jesse drifted back into sleep after that.

That didn't sound good, for him at least.

Therefore, he wasn't the least bit surprised to wake up in a chair, in an interrogation room.

Ha.

What losers, he was no stranger to interrogating tactics.

He looked up when he sensed movement in the dark, "What, you wanna find out where my gang goes? What they wanna do with that shit they took from that vault? Fat chance, asshole."

"Your spunk is admirable."

Ah great. The insufferable one. Jack, was his name right? Jesse would shoot himself if he could. Genuinely would. There were many things Jesse could not abide, sci-fi bullshit, sugared coffee...just to name a few things, but most of all, he could not stand pompous assholes who strutted about like fat roosters, acting like they owned everything.

"Yeah and your fashion choice is shit."

Jack chuckled. "Ya know, I know someone who was a lot you, kid."

"Ya know, I really don't give a rat's ass." Jesse spat. "Just get to the point, jackass."

Morrison rolled his eyes. "I was going to go easy on you, you know…" he mused and moved to the kid's side, eyes icy and cold.

"Where's your gang holed up?"

"You know, after you flushed our last base, I'd have thought you'd be able to figure that out yourself." The kid spat. Jack smiled before moving over, getting close.

"Listen...I haven't got anything better to do today. We can play like this forever. It won't matter to me." He said.

"Go to hell." Jesse grumbled and head-butted Jack square in the nose, sending the older man stumbling back, holding his nose and cursing angrily. "Why you lit-" he raised his hand to strike the kid, who glared defiantly up at him, teeth bared like he was some feral kid, which...in all honesty, he practically was.

Gabriel came in then. "Jack!" He barked. "That's quite enough. Go see Angela." The guy said and nudged his bleeding friend out into the hall. "Go on. I'll handle this." He waited until Jack was off, well on his way.

"I didn't notice how shrimpy you were, kid." Gabriel laughed.

"You come to Lord over me too? Jackass…" Jesse growled and scratched his neck.

"No, boy, I've come to offer you a deal." Gabriel said and plopped down in a chair across from him. "Look, this life... it's not gonna end well. It nearly ended for you already. You damn near died before we could get you to base, you know."

Jesse scoffed, "You shoulda let me." He grumbled, crossing his...well, he would have. "Look, you might as well kill me and get this over with." He said and shrugged.

Gabriel sighed, "Kid,"

"And stop calling me kid. I got a name. It's Jesse." He muttered.

"Fine. Jesse," Gabriel relented and offered a smile. "You can come work for us. We already have a prosthetic in the works for you, that I'm sure will be a little more accurate-"

"I'm the deadest shot in the damn gang, ain't no prosthetic gonna make me better. If anything, I'll be worse." Jesse growled. "Besides, why would I work for you? Huh? You got me a death sentence if I ever see my old pals again."

"It won't be like that, Jesse. Believe me. You help us find them, and I promise you, you won't rot in prison." Gabriel fancied he saw a glimmer of something in the kid's eyes then.

"You don't mean that." Jesse said.

"I got offered the same deal. You come work for us, you can have some kind of life, Jesse. A better life, doing the right thing. And right now, we could use a good kid like you."

"I Ain't good." Jesse sighed, "And stop calling me kid." He muttered. "Ain't like I got a choice is it?"

Gabriel sighed and looked the boy over, remembering a kid very much like this in that exact seat, with the same look on his face and the same brave words on his tongue. That wasn't so long ago. "You always have a choice, boy. You can go back, live fast, die Young, or you can come with us and live a good life, doing good." He explained.

"Besides, we need someone who ain't afraid of bloodying up the great strike commander from time to time." He said, chuckling. "What do you say?"

"Do I get my gun back?" Jesse asked. "And my hat?"

"Your...hat?" Gabe looked confused.

"Well, I always wanted a hat. Y'know, like those old cowboy movies. With Clint Eastwood, like." He insisted. "I won't do it if I don't get a hat. Oh, and if I don't get to hassle that pompous jerk sometimes."

Gabriel chuckled at that. "Alright then." He said and reached out a hand to shake.

"Welcome to Blackwatch, Jesse McCree."

McCree hesitated. "Blackwatch…?"

Gabriel offered a smile. "Mhmm."