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Little Lion Man

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Genji had disappeared for two weeks at least, not warning anyone where he was going. Or for how long, why, or anything, really. The most anyone got out of him was that he was heading out-of-country to find someone who needed to be found. He must've told Angela though, because she avoided the topic as if talking about it was a sin. Zenyatta must've known too, considering how close the two were. He didn't talk about it much either.

After said two weeks, the cyborg returned to watchpoint, clearly exhausted. Nevertheless, he looked more at peace. Whatever he'd gone to do had been done, no matter what it was. Now they could drop this and never speak about it again. Yes. Good. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary could happen now.

Then Hanzo Shimada came in the next week’s transport ship.

Clearly Winston felt the need to not formally tell anyone (except, once again, Mercy, who wasn't shocked at the arrival of the highly trained assassin, with weapons, arriving unannounced to base), because the scientist stated to everyone that yes, this arrival was planned, and no, he's not there to kill any of them.

Reinhardt, who'd grabbed his hammer at the first sight of the stranger, dropped his weapon and gave Hanzo a hearty laugh and a forceful clap on the back, which had the ninja rebalancing himself.

Everyone greeted him in their own way, each as equally welcoming and sincere. Hell, even Angela was being nice, and that smile on her face was most definitely not fake.

Everyone got along with the archer just fine. He fit into training routines, had his own eating schedule (not usually with the rest of the team), and was a faithful ally on missions. It was as if Hanzo had always been there, and it wasn't a major difference.

Hanzo Shimada fit in perfectly, and it infuriated McCree to no end.

Jesse McCree was not a rude person,but it was obvious to anyone that knew him whether he liked someone or not. It was also obvious that, right now, his actions were... questionable.

He was never openly rude to the Hanzo, he treated him like everyone else; a human being. But it was more the little things that you noticed that showed that the cowboy was a little ticked about the other man's presence. He didn't call Hanzo by pet names, he didn't initiate conversation with him, and he didn't even attempt to train alone with the archer. Don't even try to keep him in the same room alone with him. And that's just some of the list.

McCree wanted to get along with Hanzo, he really did. But every time he looked at the archer, all he could see was what Genji had been when he first came to Overwatch, and what he'd made him become. He didn't deserve what the elder brother had given him, and Jesse was having trouble letting that go. So yeah, he was just a might bit peeved at the archer who waltzed his way into the every-day life of Overwatch.

Right now, everyone had just gotten out of de-briefing from after an incredibly stressful mission, and McCree was in desperate need of a smoke. So he went out to a balcony and did just that, leaning on the railing and taking a drag every now and then. Should he get some beer? Beer would be nice.

Of course, his solitude wouldn't last forever; if he hadn't known Genji as long as he has, he wouldn't have noticed the quiet whirring of the cyborg that announced his arrival. The other walked up to where Jesse was, and leaned against the railing next to him. The lack of a greeting had already let McCree know that something was on Genji's mind.

"I have noticed that you aren't very fond of my brother."

Ah, yes, there it was. McCree took another drag of his cigarello, then looked at Genji, twirling the half-smoked stick with his fingers.


“What makes you say that?" The cowboy responded, sounding more sarcastic than sincere. He couldn't care less, though.

Genji sighed (can cyborgs do that?) before turning his head towards Jesse. He had his faceplate on, so it was very hard to tell his emotions there, but it was obvious in his actions that this was something that bothered him.


“You do not show him the same care you show others. I'm not the only one that's noticed."


McCree, who had turned back out to the view to take another drag, tilted his head to look back at the Genji.


"Oh, really now?" He drawled out, a curious tone present in his voice. Who had found out? Sure, he wasn't trying to hide his disdain, but he sure as hell wasn't projecting it to the world either.

"Yes. Angela noticed that you act a bit... peculiar, around him. Not like yourself." The younger man responded, once again looking out to the scenery.


The sun was setting right about now, and it looked pretty damn beautiful in Jesse's opinion. It would be a whole lot better though if the topic of the day wasn't being discussed right now. Why did he have to justify his feelings about Hanzo? He almost killed the cowboy's best friend, and that that event alone informed McCree just enough about the elder Shimada.

McCree took the cigarello out of his mouth and made eye (mask?) contact with the younger man.


“Damn, that obvious, huh?" He drawled, forcing a bit of a grin. If McCree got any more sarcastic, Genji would probably throw shurikens at his ass, and one good look at said ninja confirmed that thought.


Right, not the time to mess around. The smile the cowboy had plastered on slowly and gradually faded to something neutral, and he averted his gaze.

Genji, who had been practically glaring daggers at Jesse, sighed and turned back to the ocean. He reached up, and began undoing the latches to his faceplate. He pulled it off, then lay it gently at his feet before looking at the view yet again. There were birds flying by now, sun just barely visible.


"I know his presence might upset you, after all the information you've been told, but as I've said, I've forgiven him." With his mask off, Genji was much easier to read, and the face he was currently wearing practically screamed 'tired'.

"You might've, but that doesn't mean I gotta. You saw what he did to ya. We all did. That's not just something you forget." The gunslinger retorted, twirling his cigarello with his right hand. He could really do with a smoke from it right now, but he needed to do something with his hands; something to focus on.

Genji looked at the other man with a gaze that screamed ‘are you fucking serious’. Oh. Right.


“I am aware that's something you don't ‘just forget’, McCree. Or did you forget that my brother had quite literally cut me into pieces before running away.” Genji deadpanned,eyebrows slightly raised.


Jesse, who now felt rather bad, turned away. He was being insensitive right now, he realized it, and knew he had to stop. As much as he was pissed, the events happened to his friend over here, not himself.

"Right. Sorry, partner. Just ain't used to it, ya know? I remember back when ya first came here, threatening to kill him- and damn, I agreed. I wanted to, too. It's just... weird, I guess. Bein' all buddy-buddy with the guy we both bragged on about wantin' ta' kill." Jesse knew he was rambling now, but that was his way of coping with issues; ramble on so you don't have time to think of the bad shit. Unhealthy, yet effective.

Genji sighed for the umpteenth time that night, and looked up to the sky. Sun long gone, the stars shone brightly above the two of them, and was quite the sight for sore eyes. After minutes of silence spent looking at she vast sky above, he turned back to McCree before reaching down and putting his faceplate back on.

"I know. Back then, I was full of rage, and I thought I could never feel anything towards him again besides anger and sadness. But Zenyatta showed me forgiveness, and I've accepted what has been done. It was not entirely his fault, Jesse. You and I both know the story. The clan might've killed us both, and just like I, he was not ready to die." He continued on, despite the slightly shocked expressions McCree wore.

"He regretted his action, and still does. He wishes to make amends, and he needs an environment that will let him do that. So please, McCree, try to be friends with him. If not friends, at least don't hate him for what had happened." He finished, then with a nod, turned to leave. He scaled the wall in a few swift movements, then was gone.

McCree, who had turned towards Genji fully towards his little vent about his brother, sighed a very long drawn out sigh, then tossed what was left of his cigarello to the ground and stomped it out. He looked out to the view once again, then to the stars aligning the sky.

He decided, after careful consideration, to try and befriend Hanzo. If not for the archer's sake, but for Genji's.

He would try.

Chapter Text

The next time McCree saw Hanzo was the following day at the shooting range. Of course that was to be expected, everyone usually heads to the training range on days void of missions, but this time it was just a bit different. Surprise, McCree and Hanzo were alone.

 

The cowboy had sauntered into the training room, more or less either expecting the range to be full or empty, but wasn't expecting it to be occupied by one person alone. Was Hanzo really that threatening that nobody wanted to be in the range with him? McCree, after some thought though, because about three days ago Jesse had seen the elder Shimada training with both Pharah and Angela in the range. McCree hadn't stayed too long that day, because on one hand he would get caught up in the two women's’ relentless flirting, and on the other, the archer was the only other one there.

 

Now McCree could easily turn tail and leave right now just as he did a few days ago, but he briefly reflected on his talk with Genji, and decided to man the hell up and stick around. Couldn't be too hard, right?

 

He set up his own area a few rows down from the Shimada; not enough to look like he was avoiding Hanzo (which he would love to do right about now), but enough to give each other their own personal space. He could see Hanzo's targets from where he was set up, and Jesse was pretty sure the ninja could see his, but he didn't mind nor care, really. As long as he could shoot at his targets and wouldn't end up shooting someone else, the cowboy was fine with people spectating.

 

Not that it looked like the archer wanted to, though. He was engrossed in his own targets as of right now, and Goddamn was he having a hell of a time sending piercing arrows into every single one of them.

 

One by one as targets appeared, they were knocked down with a single arrow that somehow always managed to hit it's mark (the chest, dead center) without fail. While setting up his own targets (similar to Hanzo's, humanoid and can dodge), he decided to watch Hanzo strike down foes as they appeared. If the archer noticed the eyes watching him as he shot, he didn't acknowledge them. He continued firing, as if the rest of the world around him didn't exist.

 

Now, Jesse isn't all too sure how long he sat there simply watching Hanzo fire arrows into the chests of enemies, but it must've been a while, because the scoreboard very boldly showed the entirety of the training range that Hanzo Shimada had performed 347 fatal shots so far. Damn.

 

McCree realized that he should probably do something besides stand still, do nothing, and watch someone shoot. Yeah, because that's not creepy. He saved his training mode, not ready to fire but not quite ready to leave either. Nah, he had to do something first.

 

He walked over to the archer, careful to make about as little noise as possible; which was made a bit harder than it looks, thanks to his choice in clothing. Hey, having an aesthetic is important, and old west is a perfectly acceptable one. Shut up.

 

Alright, Jesse had promised Genji he'd try and be nice. Now that he actually had the chance to, though, he was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone like Hanzo? ‘hey man nice bow! Remember when you almost killed my best friend’? No, that was very much not the right approach. He began to actually think now, searching for any idea that's at least a fraction more thought-out than his original one. Just a little bit more, and he'd find something to say. Probably.

 

Of course, though, his silence was interrupted by a certain assassin turning his head and arching a single brow at the cowboy. Damn it, spotted.

 

“If you are going to stand around and do nothing, I suggest doing it somewhere not near my line of fire.”

 

Damn, prickly-ass son of a bitch, isn't he?

 

Jesse decided to ignore the elder Shimada's comment, and turned once more to look at the scoreboard, smirking. It really was an impressive kill-count; most days, Jesse didn't shoot past 150. Of course, he probably stays for a shorter amount of time than the Shimada. How long had the other been here? With a kill count of over 300, probably a while, now. It was still early, around 1 pm, so that means he must've been here some time in the morning. Maybe he got here around 11? Who knows.

 

Ok, Genji said play nice. What's a nice things to say to a trained assassin? C’mon, think, Jesse, think. Hanzo shoots, and he's good at it. That's literally all Jesse knows about him. God, this was hard. Oh, now Hanzo was glaring at him, marvelous. That definitely helps with the thinking process.

 

Jesse, after drawing up a blank for two minutes, finally had an idea hit him. Oh thank God.

 

“Pretty handy with that bow.”

 

Bingo, pure genius.

 

He watched the archer freeze, momentary shock setting in. Jeez, the compliment couldn't have been that bad.

 

“I- uhm, thank you.” Hanzo nodded, turning back at the range in front of him and resetting the targets. McCree watched, satisfied with the reaction. There, wasn't such a prickly-ass son of a bitch when he was getting complimented, now was he?

 

Hanzo was now focused on his targets once more, racking up the kill count again. Well shit, now Jesse was bored. But now he didn't feel like shooting, felt more like talking to Hanzo. Damn, he actually wanted to talk to him. He never thought that day would come. Sure, it was a very small percentage of him that wanted to talk to him, but it was still present.

 

The sharpshooter eyed the scoreboard again, letting out a low whistle as he surpassed 360. Man, he was one hell of a shot with that bow, wasn't he? Jesse can understand that; years of using the same weapon for the same purpose (which he named peacekeeper, thank you very much) would more or less make you a good enough shot with it. That stands the same for every member of Overwatch, really.

 

The silence switched to a far more awkward one, mostly because standing there with nothing to say but a million thoughts racing through your head isn't an ideal situation, so to speak. It was like he was back to stage one; what the fuck do you say to a trained assassin?

 

Finally, the silence was broken by Hanzo, who placed his bow down after a staggering amount of 423 kills. God damn. He turned to face McCree, posture solid but eyes giving way to his wariness.

 

“If you were waiting for me to finish so you could use this range, you may.” with that, he turned around and picked up his bow, going forward to the range to retrieve his arrows from the scattered targets throughout the range.

 

Oh. It was McCree's turn to speak now. Right.

 

“Naw, I jus’ felt like watchin’ ya shoot, is all. I don't think I'm gonna shoot for m’self today.” he shrugged, patting his holster where Peacekeeper was safely secured. Actually he was planning to shoot, but now he just felt too unfocused to do that. Well, unfocused on shooting, anyways.

 

“oh?” Hanzo lifted his head up from where he was crouched over a target, pulling an arrow out of its chest. Standing up to make sure there were no more to extract, he walked out of that he range and back to the cowboy.

 

For the first time, Jesse realized how much shorter Hanzo was than him. He'd never really noticed; the elder Shimada always gave off a controlling vibe that screamed dominance, so it was never the most obvious thing. But right now, they weren't in a battle or in some kind of high tension moment, so that first impression of dominance slowly ebbed away.

 

“Yeah, I think I'm just gonna head to the kitchen, grab somthin’ t’ eat.” McCree chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand. A nervous habit of his, more or less.

 

Hanzo studied him for a moment, before nodding and giving the cowboy am polite smile.

 

Holy fuck, he can smile.

 

“Of course. Have a good day, McCree.” another nod, then with all his things in hand, the ninja walked past Jesse and out the door, which shut behind him.

 

He can smile. Why was that such a shock to him? Nobody is physically incapable of smiling (except maybe Jack), so what was different about this? Maybe it was because of the fact that Hanzo acts like he's got a stick up his ass 24/7, or that he just never really seems to chill out.

 

Regardless, he still smiled. And damn it, it was kind of cute.

 

McCree stared at the door the archer just walked out of, eyes wide and face slightly warmer than before.

 

Ok, maybe talking to Hanzo wasn't Genji's worst idea.

Chapter Text

Hey guys I abandoned this fic mostly because school had me stressed to no end, and my summer was busy as all hell. Looking back on the writing now makes me physically cringe, as im still growing as a writer and this is almost a year old. What I'm doing is scrapping it and switching to a new plot line. I'll leave the old chapters up until I've got the new stuff ready, as this sometimes gets a kudos now and then. Thanks yall <3