Work Header


Chapter Text

Jack Morrison was born in Indiana to John Morrison Sr. and Nadia Morrison, a mated Alpha pair, on a cold winter morning. The youngest of five, Jack grew up rough housing with his brothers and sisters, working the farm and helping his parents for harvest every year.

When he presented as an Omega, the first Omega born in his family in three generations, his parents decided not to alter their son’s entire life because he was different from his siblings. And continued to raise him like an Alpha.

As a result, Jack Morrison was not like any Omega Gabriel Reyes had ever met. If he hadn’t scented the blond the moment they met, Gabe would never have known the kid leaked from the ass instead of growing a damned knot.

Oh course, the little shit didn’t take anyone’s sexist shit and kicked the crap out of every single Alpha and Beta put up against him. Even Gabe, though that was a close one, but Gabe knew he was fucked the moment Jack punched him in the goddamn face.


He’d fallen for the prickliest fucking Omega in the world. He could hear his mother laughing at him all the way from L.A.

It also didn’t help that he likely had a kink for getting the shit kicked out of him by a hot blond with a killer smile and the narrowest waist in human history.

He knew he was majorly fucked when he wondered how those hips would handle bearing a child; in the middle of knife combat instruction with the yellow haired prick.

When they were both chosen for the SEP, Gabe thought at least these scientists would have the sense not to put an Omega in the same barracks as twenty Alphas.

They didn’t. Instead, they shoved him and Jack in the same bedroom together on the first day and Jack looked Gabe dead in the eye, and put a fucking combat knife under his pillow. Warning received. No touching.

Got it.

“Who the fuck raises an Omega like a fucking Alpha?” Gabe asked one night, kept awake by the drugs that pumped through both their systems.

“Two Indiana Alphas with four Alpha children,” Jack answered. “Facing the first Omega born into both their families in three generations.”

“Shit,” Gabe said in disbelief. “So what’d you do during heats?”

“Hot water bottles, chocolate and ice cream,” Jack answered. “Heats are just bad cramps without an eligible Alpha there for the hormones to kick in.”

Gabe took Jack out to dinner a week later, under the guise of roommate bonding.

Three dinners later Jack kissed Gabe. Gabe always had Jack make the first move after that.

SEP finished and they were thrown head first into the Omnic Crisis. Jack met fellow no nonsense Omega Ana Amari and Gabe had never seen an Alpha go down so hard as when Reinhardt decided to challenge Ana to a fight.

Reinhardt lasted all of five minutes before Ana kicked him in the face. Gabe was quite sure that was the moment Reinhardt fell in love. There must be some correlation between being hit in the face and falling in love.

There had to be.

Ana and Reinhardt mated a year later. Gabe almost felt sorry for Ana, bearing a Reinhardt sized pup.

Five years later, Jack came to Gabe flushed and leaking, eyes blown wide from the Heat, six weeks later Jack bore a claiming mark on his neck.

Little Fareeha was very happy. She got to be flower girl at the ceremony.

Six months later, the UN named twenty-six year old Jack Morrison Jr. the new Strike Commander of Overwatch. Jack wasn’t happy about it. Neither was Gabe.

Jack had been chosen because he was an Omega. The UN thought he could easily be controlled.

Jack proved the UN wrong.

Jack showed every single one of those sexist assholes exactly what they had gotten themselves into, and the public loved him, so they couldn’t replace him without some serious shit storm being thrown in their directions.

Jack Morrison was thirty-one years old when Angela handed him a blood test report that told him one, sure thing that would bring his whole world to a stand still.

He was pregnant.

Gabe was thrilled. Ana was thrilled. Everyone was thrilled.

Jack, slowly, got excited. Of course the Media documented every single stage of his pregnancy, people started polling on what their child would be. Boy or girl? Alpha or Omega?

“I just want a healthy baby,” Jack said as Gabe peppered kisses over his six-month pregnant belly. “I don’t care about anything else.”

“I want them to have your eyes,” Gabe replied. “They’re the prettiest eyes in the world. I’d like an extra set running around. Oh, and they’ll need to have four more siblings. I want to beat my sister.”

Jack smacked him on the head and Gabe laughed.

Daniel Alejandro Morrison-Reyes was born a little in the middle of summer on a scorching afternoon.

After three days of labour that Jack was never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Going through again, Gabriel.

Gabe cried when he met his son. The tiniest creature he had ever seen, all caramel skin and soft black hair.

And his eyes were a startling cornflower blue.

Chapter Text

Jesse McCree had never seen Captain Reyes so much as think about smiling in his entire two months of Blackwatch training.

He was a punk kid with no training save for the spit of regime he’d gotten from the Deadlock Gang, or so Captain Reyes had so kindly pummelled into him the last few weeks. Jesse had bruises in places bruises shouldn’t be and was expected to be grateful for it.

He was, don’t get it wrong, but he didn’t think gratefulness meant crying yourself to sleep every night from pain and frustration in a tiny bunk every time his CO decided he’d had a bad day.

And Reyes always seemed to have bad days.

Today though, something was different when Reyes waltzed into Blackwatch’s training area. The main difference was he was grinning like a man who’d just won the Kentucky derby, the other being everyone else in Blackwatch seemed to know exactly why he was smiling given the shouts of congratulations from the other agents.

“What’s goin’ on?” Jesse asked Milton, who turned to him with a sour look, but Milton’s partner Jenkins grinned around the grouching Beta and reached over to clap Jesse on the shoulder.

“Cap’s gonna be a dad,” Jenkins explained. “Lil’ Amari girl’s been tellin’ everyone she can since she found out last night.”

That explained it, Fareeha Amari had been forbidden from speaking with Jesse after her daddy, the big German fella, had seen her pestering Jesse the first week Jesse had been allowed to walk around base without Reyes’ leash wrapped tight ‘round his neck.

“Who’s the Captain’s mate?” Jesse asked, realising he’d never seen some lil’ Omega toting around after Reyes, or even heard of any kind of Omega the Captain probably liked anywhere in Overwatch.

Probably someone off base, Jesse figured, in a cute lil’ house, all dolled up for her big military mate to come home every night.

Jenkins and Milton looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and Jesse had the modesty to realise that his assumption wasn’t true.

“Strike Commander Morrison is Cap’s mate,” Jenkins said slowly. “Didn’t…didn’t anyone tell you Morrison’s an Omega?”

No, no one had told Jesse that, and he said so.

Jenkins whistled low, and Milton rolled his eyes and walked away as Reyes came closer.

Morrison, the hard ass that Jesse had seen sparring with Ana Amari on his first day at the compound, and later on TV every chance he got to watch the news, was a god damn Omega.

Reyes came to a stop in front of Jesse and scowled.

At least Jesse’s life wasn’t any different with Reyes’ upcoming fatherhood.

Reyes watched him, dark eyes cold black pits of ruthless assholery that Jesse had come to expect, and then Reyes raised a hand and Jesse flinched.

Reyes placed the hand on his shoulder and squeezed firmly, but not harshly.

“I saw your target practice report from yesterday,” Reyes said. “Good job, kid. Keep it up.”

Jesse’s legs didn’t give out from shock until he was sure Reyes wasn’t looking at him. And he sat there for a while before getting his ass in gear and back into training.

Maybe his life might’ve changed a little.

Jesse was assigned to protection detail for the baby announcement press conference; his job was to be a second set of eyes for Ana Amari, who was hiding somewhere high up. Jesse didn’t know were. Jesse wasn’t allowed to know where.

Jesse was going to get his head rung like a bell if he didn’t do as he was told. Reyes told him so. Reyes didn’t lie about ringing heads like bells.

Jesse knew from experience.

He was stationed at the side of the stage, the left side, and had a clear line of sight over the crowd. His job was the first four rows. Amari and his fellow Blackwatch agent, Lee, had the rest. There were other agents in the crowd as well.

Jesse wasn’t allowed to know where they were either.

Jesse wasn’t allowed to know a lot of things, apparently.

All in all, the press conference went smoothly. Morrison made the announcement, Reyes glared at everyone like the over protective Alpha Jesse guessed he could be, and Morrison took a few questions that Jesse thought the world didn’t really need to know, in his honest opinion.

To this day, Jesse would never know what it was that made him look at row five, seat nineteen. The man sitting there was unassuming, a little funny looking, with a lame eye and a balding head. But nothing dangerous about him.

Not until he pulled out a fucking hand cannon and pointed it at Strike Commander Morrison.

Jesse, though, was the fastest draw in the Deadlock Gang, and faster still in Blackwatch.

Peacekeeper practically flew from the holster and into his hand and he fired off three shots. Two in the chest, one in the head, before Reyes even had the chance to pull Morrison away from the podium.

It was over in seconds, Jesse had holstered Peacekeeper by the time Reyes looked over at him, and Jesse sent a small smile in Reyes’ direction.

The most shocking thing? Reyes gave a grateful one back.

Jesse liked babies. He’d never been a big brother, but he helped his neighbour with her babies when she needed to go to the store for a few minutes and got a few dollars out of it as well.

Dan Morrison-Reyes was the littlest baby he’d ever seen. Probably because he was still brand new, and all the babies Jesse had seen before then had been a few months old.

He was a cute lil’ thing too. Lots of dark curly hair and the roundest cheeks ever. Those big ole eyes were gonna make him one hell of a tease one day. In an honest opinion, they might’ve been too big for his face, but Jesse used to have big ears, and his Ma used to tell him he’d grow into them.

He still hadn’t, but that was beside the point.

Jesse was sitting quietly in Reyes’ office, little Dan was quite happily snuggled in a baby carrier on Reyes’ desk, dressed in a bright blue one piece covered in tiny paw prints, and in little socks that were really cute. Jesse smiled at the baby, and Dan didn’t smile back. Dan was actually making a face that Jesse remembered his neighbour’s baby making right before…

Dan started crying, screaming actually, and Jesse jumped into action because Old Habits Die Hard.

He tried soothing Dan with a toy Reyes had on his desk, and then checked for a pacifier or rattle. Of which there was none.

Jesse picked Dan up then, supporting his tiny head as he checked to see if he needed a diaper change, all the while bouncing gently to create any kind of soothing motion for Dan to calm down.

Dan calmed as Jesse bounced and rocked him, and just as Jesse decided that it was safe to put him back in the carrier, Reyes decided to walk back into his office after being dragged out by his lieutenants after something happened in places Jesse still wasn’t allowed to know about.

“Listen, Reyes,” Jesse said before Reyes decided to rip him in half. “He was cryin’, an’ I remember from freshman health class tha’ leavin a baby t’ cry is real bad for ‘em. Developmentally an’ all.”

It was true. It had to be because his health class teacher had nine kids and told all of them that babies didn’t handle crying well upstairs and everything. Six of her kids ended up being doctors apparently, so she must’ve known something.

The other three ended up in Deadlock with Jesse, but that didn’t mean nothing so far as he was concerned.

Reyes watched him as he placed Dan back in the carrier, and then Jesse sat down in his seat. Waiting.

Dan went to sleep, drooling all over his nice one piece.

“Thanks,” Reyes said after enough time to make Jesse start sweating bullets. “Daniel gets cranky when he’s not with Jack. But Jack only got six weeks maternity leave before he had to start getting back the body he had before Daniel came along.”

Jesse had no idea why Reyes was telling him this, but he suspected it had something to do with the dark circles under Reyes’ eyes and the six week old snoozing on Reyes’ desk.

“Did you want me for something, Captain?” Jesse asked carefully.

Reyes nodded. “You’re with me on a raid tonight. And after that Jack wants you on his personal protection detail. You’re young enough that people will assume you’re his aide and not an agent, and Jack thinks he can trust you not to get him, or Daniel, shot,” Reyes’ eyes fell on the sleeping baby, and his face softened. “And now we know you’re good with kids.”

Jesse blinked, and then sprung to his feet grinning wide. “Thank you, Sir!” He exclaimed. “I…I…”

Reyes grabbed him by the front of his shirt before Jesse could say anything else.

“I still own you, kid,” he said. “You report to me before you report to anyone else. When you’re with Jack you’re there to make sure he doesn’t get shot. You’re his shadow, you go where he goes and you tell me if someone so much as blinks wrong at him. Got it?”

Jesse nodded, and Reyes released the front of his shirt, and Jesse left as quickly as possible.