overwatch is a pretty good game and i think blizzard did an alright job making it but what if there was a character in it who was like, a cowboy but in the future? like a futuristic man with a cowboy hat and spurs who wears nice chaps and rolls around and says cowboy things? but its in the future where there are robots? does anyone else think this is a cool idea? i feel like it would add a lot to the game overwatch if one character you could play was a guy who is also a cowboy
“Could be a memory spell. Did his hair fall out? His body hair too?”
“From the neck down, is he smooth like a ken doll?”
“I don’t know, and I’m not checking, either.”
The problem is, as soon as Sam puts the phone down on Rowena and her barely concealed glee, he knows he’ll be checking. He might mouth off to Rowena about it, but if there’s a chance that Dean’s body hair is a clue to saving his brother and his memory, then he’s not going to pass it up.
He sighs to himself. He’s barely holding back panic by the skin of his teeth, but at the same time, the whole situation is so unbearably frustrating. Having Dean is rapidly descending into having a large, skilled toddler who has license, in the eyes of the public, to go anywhere and do anything that adults do - but without any of the sense of preservation that most adults spend their lives developing (never mind the heightened sense of awareness both Winchester’s have experienced since childhood). He feels like he has to watch Dean every second to make sure he’s not causing mischief or wandering off, putting himself into who knows what danger.
So Sam already knows that he’s going to try anything to fix this. Including checking out Dean’s body hair.
The problem is that Dean, with his dark blonde hair and fair, freckled skin, has always been so lightly haired. Sam himself is covered in dark fur on his chest, arms, legs, hell even his feet - easy enough to check. But Sam has been sharing motel rooms with Dean for almost his entire life and he knows that Dean couldn’t be more different. So he’s going to have to really look.
Laying in bed, your eyes settled on your alarm clock, the red numbers showing bright and distinct against the black face. 10:00 AM. With a groan, you went to roll out of bed, slightly annoyed when two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into bed and holding you in place against a strong, fuzzy chest. Again.
“Jesse, I gotta get up. I have chores to do.” Again you tried to get up, and again you where pulled into the man’s warm embrace.
“Just a little longer, darlin’.” He hummed, nuzzling his nose into your hair as his strapping arms gave you a squeeze.
“You said that three hours ago.” you chirped, making no effort to hide your irritation.
“Ten more minutes.” The cowboy muttered.
Rolling over in his grasp, you studied the face of your love, brushing his dusty brown locks out of his face so you could cup his cheek. He looked tired, both physically and mentally, eyes weary as they looked up at you.
“What’s wrong Jesse?” your voice was soft, soothing as you stroked his cheek. “You never stay this long. Did something happen at work?”
It was true, things had changed since that visit three years ago, when you and Jesse had finally been honest with just how much you needed each other. He visited more often now and for longer. His visits could last anywhere from a couple days to a whole month, and he rarely was gone for more then six months. He even called more often now, your phone usually ringing every other day, his gruff voice on the line, checking on how you were and keeping you updated on what he was doing. You enjoyed what you had with the cowboy. You loved him, and knew he loved you in return, but you also enjoyed the space and freedom your relationship allowed.
For two months now Jesse had been staying with you. The longest visit he had ever had. You knew something had to be eating at him. He wasn’t acting like his usual self. He slept most of the day, and was up all night. He was drinking more then usually, and just moped around the house. Today marked a full week since he had been outside.
“It’s nothing, darlin’.” he said, unconvincingly. Leaning up, he captured your lips, though the kiss was half hearted and weak.
“You say that every time. But your not acting like yourself, Jesse.” Grabbing his shoulder, you refused to let him roll over, making him face you as you insisted on getting an answer. “Please, I’m worried about you. After all we’ve been through, you can talk to me.”
Looking up at you, you could see the reluctance in his eyes, brows turned up in uncertainty as he argued with himself. He trusted you. Lord knew he trusted you. There wasn’t a thing in the world he couldn’t tell you. But he wasn’t sure he knew how to put what he was feeling into words, wasn’t sure he wanted to open that dam. But as you looked at him, concern and uncertainty in your eyes, he felt compelled to open up. He hated to see you so worried. He had worried you enough already for one lifetime. With a sigh, he sat up, closing his eyes as he tried to think of where to start.
“We lost Captain Amari…”
“Oh, hun. I’m so sorry.” Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close. At first he just lay there, but as you stroked his hair, laying gentle kisses on the top of his head, the man caved, burying his face into you as he clung to your soft form. Taking deep breaths, you could tell Jesse was fighting back tears, something you hadn’t seen him do since he was a young teen. You had heard about Ana Amari upon occasion, Jesse spoke of her with great respect and admiration. But you hadn’t realized they had been this close. A small pang of jealousy lodged itself in your heart like a thorn. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.” You hated the words that slipped past your lips. You should be comforting him, not acting like an insecure teen. Luckily, Jesse didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just ignored the statement.
“She was exactly what I needed when I first came to Overwatch. She was so rigid about training and rules, but she was understanding. She never judged me for my past. She cared so much about the people working under her. I hadn’t had that before.” I cared about you like that. “I thought I did with the Deadlock gang, but when I saw how Ana treated her people, how hard she fought to protect them, I knew I had never had that.” You thought about how you had left home, the only time in your life, you had hopped on a train, alone at seventeen, just for the chance to save the man you held now. “For thirteen years I fought with that woman. She inspired me. She made me want to be better. Make something of myself.” You fought back the bitterness that clouded your heart. You had been there for him. You had believed in him when no one else had. You had always known he would be great someday. “I guess, she was everything I had always imagined my mother should be.” Your hand stilled, no longer stroking his hair as you looked down at the man that lay curled up in your arms.
Jesse had never spoken of his mother. In the twenty four years you had known him, he had never once mentioned his mother. You had always assumed she had died giving birth to him. No one in town spoke of her and your parents had diverted the conversation the few times you had asked. But Jesse, he had never once even acknowledged the fact he had a mother, not even to you. Just as he feared, as he opened up to you about Ana, so many thoughts and feelings overwhelmed him, pouring out as he remembered so many things he had buried away for so long.
“My mom left when I was five. I still remember the way she looked at me that day. Like I was some piece of trash she wanted to throw into a burn pile. I begged her to take me with her, but she said I had too much of my father in me. That I’d end up just like him.” Rolling out of your grasp to lay on his back, Jesse’s arm rested over his face, hiding his eyes from you as he drudged up memories that had lay dormant for so many years. “I met you about a year later. I was so full of rage and pain. I tried so hard to push you away, guess I was just afraid of being hurt again. But you never left. No matter what I said, no matter what I did to you, the next day you’d greet me with a smile and a wave. Like nothing had happened.” In your mind, you saw a six year old Jesse, dirty and tattered, always lashing out, always getting into fights. But you had never minded. He had never seemed that bad to you. “I made a lot of stupid decisions when I was young, but you were always there, standing by my side. I can’t imagine how bad off I'da been without you.” uncovering his face, glossy brown eyes looked up at you, sad and remorseful as they studied you. “If it weren’t for you, my mother would have been right. I would have ended up just some good for nothing nobody, drunk in some alley.”
“Jesse, what’s going on? This isn’t like you. Where is all this coming from?” You were frightened by the look in his eyes, so weak, so vulnerable. A part of Jesse you had never seen. Laying there in your bed, he seemed so frail, spilling all his deepest, most personal thoughts. Thoughts he was afraid even to admit to himself most of the time.
“Overwatch if falling apart.” He continued, gaze shifting to stare at the ceiling. “Jack and Gabe are at each others throats more then ever. There’s so much in fighting. It’s chaos. Nothing makes Gabe happy anymore. He’s always sulking and picking fights with people. He’s been doing all this secret stuff that’s coming out, stuff I’m not sure I can support, even if he was doing them for the right reasons.” As Jesse’s hands clenched around the sheets, you moved to lay your small hands over his own, fingers barely able to wrap around the back of his hand. “The man is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, I want to stand with him, but he’s going down such a dark path. I’m just not sure I can follow him there.” You gave his hands a squeeze as Jesse closed his eyes again, fighting some internal battle as he was overcome by the struggles of his current situation. “I finally got to a good place, I can’t go back to that life of hate and anger. I was so lost in it when I was younger. I cursed the world for letting my mom leave, sticking me with that bastard. All that hatred was eating me alive. I can’t go back there. I- I just cant follow him there.” Leaning over him, you lay a soft kiss on his forehead, bringing him back to you before he became too lost in his problems.
“Then don’t.” Combing your fingers through his hair, you were comforted by how he leaned into your touch, welcoming your reassurance as you gave his lips a soft peck. “If Overwatch is in as much disarray as you say, maybe it’s time you move on. You need to take care of yourself. There’s plenty of good you can do outside of Overwatch.”
“I’m just not sure I can abandon everyone. They’re like family to me.”
“Jesse, Overwatch is going down. With or without you. You need to protect yourself. Otherwise, you’ll be dragged into the middle of things.” He knew you were right, knew he couldn’t stay. He had known that for about a year now. But for almost half his life now, Overwatch had been is world. It was scary, they idea of leaving, finding something new. Where would he go? What would he do? There was still so much in his past he wanted to atone for. With Overwatch, he felt he could do that. He could redeem himself from his past crimes. What was he supposed to do now?
As he lay there, mulling over all the possibilities in his head, you waited patiently. Petting his hair, you offered silent support as Jesse struggled with his conflict. Finally, after several moments of deep meditation, brown eyes met yours, vulnerable and sincere.
“No matter what happens, you’ll stay with me, right?”
“Always.” Leaning down, you took his lips, his fingers tangling in your hair as he reciprocated. It was a needy kiss, as if he was looking for all the answers to his questions in that contact. But as he pulled away, you were sure he found at least one of them.
“Alright. I’ll set out tomorrow. I’ll get my stuff and tell Morrison I’m leaving. Then I’m coming home.” Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he kissed along your neck. You let out a giggle, his scruff tickling your neck. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll help you with those chores.” Climbing out of bed, you admired the man’s butt as he walked out off the door, stocking off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.