I love your writing! Could I request a fic please? Where McCree has a secret fiancé, living somewhere safe and reminding him that he has something to live for? But the remaining Deadlock members find her and kidnap her? And she's terrified when she realizes how much they hate Jesse and how they're willing to do anything to her in order to hurt him.
((A/N - I did this in Blackwatch era if that’s okay! It made more sense as Deadlock was more recent and oh my goodness gracious me I got so carried away with it I love writing McCree as a hero oosh. Might have to upload to AO3!))
“Please be safe.”
“I always am, doll.”
You stood on your toes to be able to press your lips against his. His rough, chapped lips that you were forever telling him to put lip balm on. You saw Jesse out the door, waving to him as set off down the road towards the Overwatch base. You twirled your engagement ring on your finger, a thin gold band that had a set of three diamonds with the middle one being slightly larger.
Jesse had proposed to you last year. You had known him since his days in the Deadlock gang, only because he used to frequent the diner you worked at. On more than one occasion he had bought you a strawberry milkshake or paid for your favourite song to be played on the jukebox. You were always careful though. You never became too close for the fear of doing something wrong which might anger him or the gang. You always accepted his compliments with a smile, and politely refused his requests to go dancing after work. It was only ever him that visited, saying what you had was a little secret, sealed with a wink.
Overwatch had then infiltrated Route 66, tearing apart the gang and luckily giving Jesse another chance at life to do good in the world. Knowing that neither of you were in any more danger, he proposed to you then and there. He constantly complimented you on your accent, your style, your pretty eyes. You had only moved to the little town a couple of years prior. He had of course sweetened you up and you accepted. You were his rock, and he was your charming cowboy.
“Honey, I’m home!” Jesse jokingly sang out as he sauntered through the front door.
You greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. With what Jesse was earning working in the Blackwatch division under Overwatch, there was no need for you to carry on working at the diner. You had your own little ranch on the outskirts of town. You spent your days cleaning, cooking, sewing, ironing, being kept hidden..
“Did you tell them today, sweetie?” You held your hands in front of you, an expectant look on your face.
Jesse’s furrowed brow and sigh told you everything. Your engagement was a secret. A secret from your family, friends, and Overwatch.
You turned away from him, heading back into the kitchen to finish up the stew.
“Darlin’, it’s not fine.”
“So why can’t you tell them? Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t I tell anyone?”
You span on your heels to look at him and crossed your arms. Jesse’s eyes widened at your sudden anger. He understood your frustrations, he really did. It just seemed for however long you two has known each other everything between you had to be a secret.
“There are… Complications.”
Jesse sighed and took his hat off, moving round to sit on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. You precariously followed suit, back stiff and perched on the edge of the seat.
“Yes? What about them?”
“With Overwatch being close by, they’re gettin’ a bit antsy. Since they, well, arrested half o’ their men they didn’t take too kindly to it. Doll, the base isn’t even the direction that I head off to in the morning. I have to do that in case I’m bein’ followed.”
Your shoulders tensed slightly.
“They’re not the nicest o’ gangs and they try to keep tabs on people. Whether they know that I was given’ a second chance.. I don’t know.”
You looked at him. He was staring at the carpet, eyes drawn to a particular out of place thread. He fiddled with the hat in his hands.
“Which is why I have to keep us a secret.” Jesse slowly said.
You nodded, taking the hat from his hands and walking around the sofa to place it on a coathook. You hadn’t realised he was following you until you turned around and bumped into him.
“(Y/N), you are my home. You always have been. If anythin’ were t'happen’ to ya..”
You leant forwards onto his chest, him then covering you with his arms. He of course smelt like cigars, gunpowder and coffee. You were his home, and he was yours.
You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his chocolate eyes, etched with concern.
“I love you, Jesse McCree.”
He broke into a smile and picked you up, twirling you around.
“I love you too, (Y/N).”
The next day went off without a hitch, you said your farewells and began preparing food for dinner.
You frowned. Wiping your hands clean on a teatowel you lightly stepped over to the front door, peering through the peephole. Two young men dressed in black stood cockishly on your porch. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors today. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors, full stop.
You hooked the metal chain onto the door, so when it opened there was only a tiny crack you could see through. Better to be safe than sorry.
“May I help you, at all?”
“Is McCree here?” The one on the right spat.
“Erm, who? I think you may have the wrong ranch.”
Your heart was racing. Jesse had prepared you for this, to feign ignorance if anyone came asking for him.
You blanched. You tried to slam the door closed but one put their foot in the way. You grunted, and ran towards where you kept your shotgun in the cupboard under the stairs. You’d never had to use it before, but being so far out in the open you constantly had wild beasts and trespassers roaming your lands, you had to threaten them somehow.
You aimed it at the door, preparing for the worst when a crack shot through the air and your front windows were shattered. You held your hand up to your face to shelter from the flying glass, a few shards managing to scrape across your palm.
“Don’t come any closer.” You threatened. You inwardly cursed yourself at how weak you sounded. You emphasised by jabbing the shotgun in the direction of the window.
“Why, miss, we don’t want to hurt you.”
The two intruders stepped through the shattered pane, pointing revolvers at you and grinning wolfishly. Your breathing quickened. Your eyes scanned around the room, while slowly stepping back. You needed an exit route, and you needed one now.
“Just tell us where McCree is and we won’t have to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”
They were stalking towards you, every step you took back they took one forward. The gun in your hands was shaking. You cocked it and aimed at their feet, firing which sent a whirlwind of wood splinters into the air.
This gave you a few mere seconds to sprint out of the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door. You heard cursing from the strangers and then heavy footsteps of them chasing you. You rounded the corner and pressed your back against the warm wooden slats, gun poised to whack the butt into one of their heads as they came round.
They never came round. You were sure they were following you. You frowned, peeking out to see if they were still there. They weren’t.
Treading carefully and aiming your shotgun, you stepped around the corner to look by the back door.
Something cold and hard pressed against the back of your neck. You shuddered out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You stared blankly ahead into the desert, dropping the gun on the ground and raising your open hands to shoulder height.
Gravelly footsteps made their way so the one that had originally spoken to you was standing in front of you.
“Wild one, she is.”
“No wonder McCree went for her.” The one behind you sniggered.
You narrowed your eyes at the one in front, who was now pointing his gun at your chest.
“Don’t try anythin’ funny, sweetheart.” He smiled sickly sweet at you, and then nodded at the one behind you.
A rag soaked in something sweet and alcoholic covered your nose and mouth, making you cry out. You scrabbled at the man’s hands by your face, hearing him wince from where you cut him with your nails. He was relentless. Trying to struggle made you breath in more sharply and quickly, which you didn’t realise was helping their cause. Your hands became fuzzy, knees weak and vision blurring.
“Sleep tight.” They chuckled.
Everything went black.
“Why ain’t she pickin’ up..”
Jesse scowled at his burner phone, the number he had been ringing going to voicemail. He wanted to let you know that he was going to be home early today, as he’d managed to get a half day off and he could help you cook dinner as an apology for yesterday.
He scuffed his way through the long grass, the heat forming sweat droplets on the back of his neck.
He frowned. Tyre tracks by the front of your ranch. You weren’t supposed to have visitors. Feeling uneasy, Jesse unholstered his peacekeeper. Before he had made it to the front of the house, he could see that the front window had been smashed in and the door was slightly ajar.
“(Y/N)? You home, doll?”
He peaked in through the window and saw glass everywhere. Two pairs of dusty footprints by window making their way towards- blood? He stepped through the wooden pane on high alert for any signs there’s someone still in the house. It was deathly silent.
Jesse crouched when he made it to the doorway to the kitchen, picking up a shard of glass that definitely had blood on it.
He quickly put his earpiece in and channeled it to the base.
“McCree to Watchpoint 66.”
“McCree. Reyes here.”
“I need your help.”
Your head was pounding. Your palm stung. Your breathing was rattling, as though you were dehydrated. Your neck ached from where it was hanging awkwardly, a stray hair tickling your nose. You tried to reach up to brush it out of the way and scratch your nose. You tensed your arms when you realised you couldn’t, something rough had bound your wrists together behind your back. Your eyes shot open. Your vision was blurry, trying to adjust to the dim lit room. You looked down and realised you had been bound to a wooden chair. Trying to cry out for help, you realised a cloth of some sort was drawn tightly across your mouth. Glancing down, even your ankles were tied together from what you could see with rough hemp rope. You tried to regulate your breathing, air heavily leaving your nose.
Your head shot up when the rickety door swung open, a dark figure standing in the doorway.
“She’s awake.” The voice rumbled, nodding to someone else in the hallway.
The figure stepped over the threshold towards you. You tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath and head held high.
He wore dark leather trousers and a billowing cream top, almost like an old fashioned pirate. He grabbed your jaw with his calloused hand, forcing you to look up towards his shadowed face.
“So you’re the one that Jesse McCree has fallen for. A pretty lil’ thing, huh.”
He had the same southern accent as Jesse, albeit more menacing. He turned your head to the side, losing eye contact. Only spending a minute with this savage and he’s already made you feel like a piece of meat up for inspection. He leaned in close, lips hesitating over your ear.
“Do ya love him, sweetpea?”
You shut your eyes, tears squeezing out the corners and you drew in a shuddering breath.
You nodded your head, him only being satisfied when he let his grip go off your face and moved back. You bowed your head, wondering how you got into this situation. Wondering what Jesse’s reaction would be when he saw how ransacked your house was. Wondering about Jesse.
“Don’t cry. I di'n’t mean to make ya cry.”
He gently wiped away a streaming tear, his touch as soft as a lover’s. You glanced at his tan hand that was so close to your cheek. He took his hand back and thwack. His right hand struck your cheek, snapping your head to the right and hair falling over your face. The pain brought a fresh batch of waterworks, sobs choking in your throat.
A dark chuckle escaped from your captor. He pulled up another wooden chair from the darkness and sat down.
“D'ya know how long we’ve been lookin’ for that mutt?”
You shook your head, learning quickly it’s better to play along.
“Too long. After that darned Overwatch took half o’ my men we wanted to fight. Obviously we didn’t have enough manpower. When we learnt that ingrate was alive and workin’ for them? Hoo, that’s a whole ‘nother story.”
He leant back in the chair, his right ankle coming up to rest on his left knee.
“I had my men follow him. That Overwatch weren’t pretty smart to keep an ex-Deadlock member livin’ on Route 66 were they? He tried to be clever. Sent them on a fox hunt, he did. Until one day we finally caught him going back to ya nice lil’ ranch out back. Seein’ you greet him at the door warmed my heart, I must say.”
Your eyes widened.
“He had a lil’ missy and he was keepin’ her secret from the world. Well, I wonder why that is? That Jesse McCree had snagged himself somethin’ real nice and didn’t wanna share her. We thought we could do him the favor. We could let him know how much he hurt us, at the same time hurtin’ him.”
You frowned at this. They wanted to hurt him? By hurting you?
The stranger leant forwards placing a hand on your knee.
“Don’t worry, doll. We only want to let him know how big o’ a mistake he made when he betrayed us.“ He stood up, stalking around to the back of your chair and placed his hands heavily on your shoulders. "You are the key.”
You shuddered under his grasp, your entire body shivering at the thought of what they, or he, were going to do to you.
“Jesse, you need to calm-”
“I am calm.” Jesse seethed.
“Well then get your hand off of my desk.”
Jesse looked down, his nails digging into the wood creating splints on Gabriel’s desk. He grunted, flumping himself into the chair opposite Reyes and hiding his dark eyes behind his hands.
“She’s out there somewhere and we’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’. She could be hurt or dyin’ or-”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it. Jesse, we will find her. I promise.”
You don’t know how long it had been. They would occasionally bring in water and sludge for what they called food. They had to feed you, this being the only time they would ungag you. Your wrists were chafed from being constantly bound, your ankles only released when you needed to relieve yourself. You had lost all energy to fight. It didn’t help that every now and then they would rough you up.
Your head ached, there was dried blood crackling by your nostril and you were sure your ribs were either cracked or majorly bruised. Breathing became a struggle, it was all you could focus on.
They didn’t seem to care about information about Jesse. All Deadlock wanted to do was hurt you. Hurt you so they could hurt him.
The door creaked open, you flinching at the light that shone through the doorway. You were tired and you wanted to give up. It was the man that you had first seen when you were taken.
“Looks like he’s given up lookin’ for ya, doll.” He smirked. “There’s been no word for.. Oh. Four days now.”
You stared blankly at the floor by his feet; you wouldn’t have given him a reaction even if you could. He walked over to you, holding something in his hand that glinted against the light.
“I think it’s time to.. Up the pace. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”
Only then did you look at him properly, studying what he had in his hand. A knife. You tried to shrink into your chair, worried eyes passing between the knife and his shadowed face. A swift strike and the blade was plunged into your thigh, blood seeping out from around the edges. You shut your eyes and let out a muffled cry, pain blinding your vision.
“Good girl. I made sure t'record that one. I’ll send it to ya fiancé and let him know how ya doin’.”
You breathed in deeply through your nose, tears now running freely down your cheeks and you trying to hold back sobs. You’d never known pain like this before.
He pulled the knife from its warm confines to wipe on his trousers, your blood running down onto the floorboards. He twirled the knife in his hands, looking like a predator wondering where he was going to make his next strike. You pleaded with your eyes as much as you could, you couldn’t take much more. You’d fantasized about being back at home, in your bed, with Jesse.
You didn’t know how strong your threshold was for pain but you knew you weren’t going to last long if they started torturing you for the hell of it.
“Com'ere, doll.” He grabbed your throat, leaning in dangerously close.
He passed the blade down the side of your face, making a deep cut down your cheekbone. You could feel blood trickling down, just adding to the list of injuries you had. He tightened his grip around your neck, digging his fingers in which would no doubt leave some lovely purple splotches.
An earthy rumble echoed through the building. Your captor looked at you in concern then span around to face the doorway. He moved around you, behind your chair and pulled your hair so your neck was on show. A loud crash and then suddenly there were three people all in dark clothing looking through the doorway where a rickety door has once stood.
“Long time, no see, McCree.” The man said, now pushing the blade against your bare throat.
“Get your dirty hands off of her, Max.”
You whimpered, struggling in your bounds on the chair. The grip in your hair tightened, making you take a short breath and changing your view so all you could see was the ceiling.
“You ain’t in a position to tell me what to do, Jesse. Unless you want your sweetheart’s blood spewin’ everywhere. Say, how does it feel? To have somethin’ you love taken away from ya?”
“Let her go.” A voice you didn’t recognise said.
“Uh uh. Not until the lil’ rat here understand what Overwatch did to my gang. And how betrayed I felt when I learnt he’d gone off gallavantin’ with ya.”
You could feel the blade dig in deeper, droplets beginning to form. The pain in your leg was excruciating.
“She’s got nothin’ to do with that.”
Your breathing was becoming heavier, the tightness by your throat and the general aches and pains from your leg, ribs, cheek and hair were becoming too much for you. The room became incredibly warm, your hands and feet becoming tingly and limp and eyes drifting shut.
“Looks like she’s already given’ up, Jesse. You’re too late.”
You heard a muffled crack in the air before you let yourself drift off.
You leaned into the touch of someone stroking your hair back from your face. You stirred, eyes shooting open and breathing increasing from what you last remembered.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. You’re safe.”
You quickly scanned the area and all you could see was white. White ceiling, white walls, white bed. Bed. You turned to where the voice came from and there was Jesse. Your Jesse that had come to save you, perched on the edge of the chair waiting anxiously. You leaned back onto the cushy pillows and let out a sigh. You glanced him over. His beard was more scraggly and under his eyes were dark. You held out your hand towards him, him instantly taking it in his grasp and holding you tightly. His thumb rubbed over your engagement ring.
“Jesse..” You croaked.
“Stop. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded gravelly, broken. “I thought I could protect you.”
You squeezed his hand in reply, trying not to say anything which could damage your throat.
“I should'a been more careful. I should'a done what you said and told them about us. They could’ve protected you more than what I could.”
You frowned at this.
“I did this to ya. I wouldn’t be surprised if you up and left me.” He covered his face with his free hand, rubbing his forehead.
You retreated your hand slightly before slapping him on the wrist.
“Don’t you dare. You rescued me. What’s done is done but we’re here now. Safe.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, brown eyes meeting yours. A small smile formed on his lips before darting around your face and taking in what Deadlock had really done to you. It faded.
“Wounds heal, Jesse.” You reassured, catching on to what he was looking at. “I never doubted for a second you wouldn’t come for me.”
“Could'n'ta done it without Reyes.”
“I’m sure he’s lovely.”
“He’s the one that took me in after Deadlock.”
“Even more so.”
Jesse relaxed a bit, glad to see that you had woken up and hadn’t changed a bit.
“So I’m guessing Overwatch know about us then, huh?”
“I had to.”
“Not under the best circumstances.”
“I wish it could’ve been better.”
You turned your head towards him so you were facing him fully. You grabbed his hand that was still laying on your pristine sheets with both hands, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. You hesitantly glanced down at your wrists, ropeburn clearly showing.
“I love you, Jesse McCree. Don’t you ever forget or think that anything will come in between that.”
“I love you too, (Y/N).”