god's control

He had no idea what set it off. One moment he was fine, scrubbing the dishes, handing them off to be rinsed off and then dried and suddenly it was hard to breathe and he was shaking like a leaf in a storm. He braced himself against the kitchen counter, hoping that it would pass quickly but the dizziness and double vision took over and he nearly toppled to the floor. The breath left his lungs and for a moment his vision went completely dark.

“Gabe? Gabe!” Jesse yelped when his arms gave out and he fell to the floor. Thankfully nothing was hurt and his poor knees took the brunt of the damage as his frozen fingers clutched the edge of the sink. A calloused and a metal hand tried to gently grab onto his hands to help ease off the practical white knuckle grip. The flesh hand helped and then the metal hand made it worse indefinitely.

For some reason he was brought back to the Omnic Crisis, homicidal god AI controlled robots trying to kill him, robotic and cold voices taunting him as he hid and shakingly reloaded his shotguns. Just a few more seconds, just a few more seconds

“Gabe!” Jesse shouted.

He was sitting with his back against the kitchen counter, hands clutched desperately in McCree’s singular flesh hand. The metal one lay away from them, like it had been shot off. He sucked in a hard breath and realized his eyes and cheeks were wet and he was shaking like an earthquake was happening underneath his ass.

“I’m here, Gabe, I’m here,” Jesse said firmly, shaking him a little bit to keep him there. He let out the breath he was holding in and greedily sucked in another. He let it out and drew another one in, he forced himself to breath as Jesse kept talking to him, keeping his shaking hands still, keeping him grounded in reality before he got caught up in his head.

After a couple moments he felt calm enough to start gently tugging his hands free. McCree squeezed them once and then let them go so that they could fall lamely in his lap. McCree leaned on him as he caught his breath and tried to steady himself. When the shaking finally stopped, he scrubbed at his face and sighed loudly.

“Ya gonna be okay?” Jesse asked.

“Y-yeah, sorry about that, Jesse,” He sighed.

“Ain’t no reason ta be sorry, Gabe,” Jesse said, nudging him fondly, “Most everyone gets the same kinda episodes every now and again. Ya wouldn’t believe the amount of sleepin’ meds Angie goes through in a month, let alone a year.”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right, still… thanks, kiddo,” He smirked, throwing a slightly weakened arm around Jesse’s shoulders and giving him an awkward one armed squeeze. “Jack or Angie usually help me when this shit starts… but I’m glad I had you here.”

“No problem… dad,” McCree snarked.

“Smart mouthed punk-ass kid,” He grumbled before carefully standing, “Let’s finish these dishes, eh?”

The hero and the sharpshooter

🌼 🌼 waiting for the mission to start, teaching the son important things  🌼 🌼

(Do Not tag as mcr//eyes or reblog to ship blogs i Will Know and i Will Block You)

……………….please……………….can we……………………..look just for a second………this……..sweet angel……………….whom I love with a great passion……………………