GABRIEL REYES + JESSE MCCREE
GABE RUINS CHRISTMAS (KIDDING. MOSTLY.)
PG? | COMPLETE
Having his favorite – and only – boots stolen had put Jesse McCree in a low-simmering foul mood. Those boots were proof that he was a newly made man, purchased with government-issued income all on the up and up. He’d even paid taxes, for Christ’s sake. Now, he had them back, but the damage was done.
In the hopes of putting himself back in his usual good cheer, Jesse decided he was going to get his own Christmas tree today and make it look real nice. He didn’t see all that much of his roommates, so rather than bother them, he decided to set the tree up in his room. And really, he was doing alright until the stairs. He had a backpack full of ornament boxes on his back, with garland dangling from it, and was trying not to land on it as he pulled the tree upwards. He made it about halfway before some branches got jammed with the railing and he landed on his ass.
“Jesus Christ on a cracker,” he grumbled, branches in his face. “It ain’t like it’s that hard! I can fireman carry an unconscious person, why can’t I move a goddamn tree?!”
Gabriel had been to Jesse’s apartment once or twice already, but he hadn’t made a habit of it. Some independence was good for the kid, he thought, and as long as Jesse showed up to training on time, he was happy. Unfortunately, the conversation he needed to have with Jesse was the kind that one didn’t do on the fly, or in public. This Jesse was younger than the one he’d left at home. He hadn’t witnessed the fissures between Gabriel and Jack turn into canyons yet, nor had he been privy to as much of the media’s needling regarding Overwatch’s supposed overreach into world peacekeeping.
Which didn’t mean much, Gabriel knew. This conversation was emphatically under the heading of “Do not want”, but he wasn’t going to shirk out of it. He’d hidden what he’d allowed Moira to do to him for several months now. It was past time to be honest about it, particularly since his “enhancements” didn’t appear to be going away on their own.
“Different center of gravity,” he said, sneaking up behind Jesse because he was an asshole. The kid was struggling with what looked like half a department store of holiday stuff, and with a grunt, Gabriel grabbed one end of the tree, shrugging his shoulder toward the other end for Jesse to take. “C’mon.”
“God…damn, you scared the bejesus outta me,” Jesse sputtered. He immediately regretted it, of course, because it was admitting he’d been caught unawares and looking like a dumbass. Too late now. He sighed belligerently and pushed back to his feet, grabbing ahold of his end of the tree and leading the way into his room.
“I ain’t never gonna get how you move so quiet for someone so big.” There was a tree stand already set up in the corner and a string of lights haphazardly strung across the floor. The room itself was actually pretty clean. He hadn’t gotten used to having his own room yet, so personal effects were minimal. He tipped his end of the tree down into the tree stand and got down on the ground to start tightening the screws.
Gabriel grunted in reply, because his near-silence in stealth-mode was at least part of the reason he was here, wasn’t it? A little too on-the-mark, that one. “Jack’s been hard at work on his,” he said, one hand in the tree fluffing out its needles and making it look less scraggedly. “I think he’s gonna run out of time to have one in every room this year, thank Christ.” He couldn’t tease Jack too much about it, given his own Halloween obsession, but he could get a few jabs in.
...and, he was stalling. Surely Jesse could feel the tension, with Gabe quiet and willingly working on a Christmas tree, his reason for dropping by unannounced. It had hurt to confess to Jack, because it was like confirming Jack’s worst fears, and filling a mold of disappointment with sins of his own making. Jesse, though? He wanted Jesse to look up to him. Had benefited from the kid doing just that. And now…
“We’re gonna have a conversation neither of us are gonna much like.” Off of Jesse’s expression, he quickly clarified: “You’re not in trouble. I am.”
Jesse might’ve sensed the tension if he wasn’t just enjoying the fact that Gabe had come around on his own, and apparently not to hand out orders for a mission. He probably should’ve wondered why that was, but Jesse McCree and Rational sometimes headed separate ways. Or at least, he was real good at focusing on the task at hand, especially when it had a family sorta feeling to it.
“Tempted to tell him you don’t think he has time to pull it off, just to see if that makes him hustle,” he smirked, climbing to his feet once the tree was straight. He dumped out the contents of his backpack on the bed - luckily, made to military precision this morning, whew - and pulled the small string of colorful lights out of its box. “Wait, what?” He frowned. “What kinda trouble are you in?”
Gabriel was already in a crouch, fussing over a ball of lights that had gotten itself in a knot. “The kind of trouble that’s my fault,” he answered, working the string through a twist in the chain. It was easier to disentangle than the truth.
“You know Moira O’Deorain?” He knew Jesse didn’t; he’d hired Moira nearly a decade after this younger version of McCree. But if Jesse had taken any look at the future, any at all, his response would be affirmative. Not that it would change his story any so much as give it context, and perhaps he was hoping context would soften the blow.
Jesse’s frown stayed locked in place. He could probably count the number of times he’d heard Gabe admitted to doing something “wrong” on one finger. “O’Deorain? Think I saw that name in some of the future stuff I poked around in. Didn’t read a whole lot though,” he admitted, dropping his eyes to the lights in hands. “Realized when I saw a picture of me with a mech arm that maybe I didn’t wanna know so bad…”
Gabe didn’t wince, not exactly, but the set of his mouth wasn’t a happy one. Jesse had yet to lose his arm in his time, either, and the thought had gnawed on him with the same neverending enthusiasm as future glimpses of all the other people he’d somehow failed. “She’s a scientist,” he continued, sticking to the issue at hand as he finally got the knot out of the lights and tossed one end to Jesse. “Geneticist. She offered to tweak some shit and make Blackwatch even stealthier than it was already, but she needed some time and a test subject.”
It had been phenomenally stupid to agree to it. Gabriel had known that even before Atlantis. Funny how things that were stupid were all things he’d tried to keep from Jack and Jesse and everyone else he loved.
Jesse caught what was thrown at him but forgot about it pretty goddamn promptly after that. “Test subject,” he said flatly. It didn’t exactly take a genius to make the leap. Any fella brave enough to sign up for one stupid ass science project was probably dumb enough to do it twice. Jesse shifted nervously on his feet and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. “What, was super soldier slash war hero not enough for ya?”
“Shoot for the sky,” Gabe answered flippantly, because yeah, it hadn’t been enough. Jack had been all those things and more, and he’d wanted to outdo him, one way or another. They were nearing the part where specifics were necessary, and showing was easier than telling. “Her experiments worked. Unfortunately, she was also an agent of Talon behind my back, and ‘working’ wasn’t necessarily a good thing.”
With a flick of his wrist, his hand became smoke, dark and flickering. Gabe moved his hand through the tree’s branch and back until he was certain Jesse had seen the ability, and then stopped, hand solidifying to normalcy once again. “Rapid cellular degeneration. It’s a great party trick,” he said flatly, “if you don’t mind it happening when you don’t want it to.”
“Talon? What--” Jesse dropped the string of lights in his hands, startled into taking half a step back at the smoky disappearance of Gabe’s hand. “Holy shit, jefe.” With that quiet little gasp of a curse, he at least regained enough composure to retake the step he’d lost. His gaze flittered between Gabe’s hands and his face.
“It happens just willy nilly, you’re sayin’.” The thought was goddamn sobering, and his voice matched the feeling. “Are you--” No. “Does it hurt?” he asked instead.
“Sometimes,” Gabriel answered, because the pain of it was the least important aspect of it, and Jesse’s expression hit him hard between the lungs. “We’re working on it,” he said gruffly, because he had doubts about their success, but that was how Jack was choosing to deal with this and so they would do it that way. “Atlantis has doctors, magicians. Spell-casters. Whatever you want to call ‘em. The important take-away from all this is not to do stupid shit like thinking with your ego instead of your brain, and secondly, that adults are just as dumb as teenagers when they want to be. Or evil,” he added, because paranoia was also a valid interpretation of events.
Jesse wasn’t all that comforted by we’re working on it. Could be whatever doctor, magician, whatsit Gabe picked would just be out to use him too, after all. If it could happen inside Blackwatch…He hadn’t worried much about the people at home until right now, but the feeling shadowed in comparison to the ball of anxiety in his gut caused by the person right next to him.
“Right,” he mumbled, sweeping a hand up for his hat, only to find nothing and realize he must have lost it on the stairs. His hand settled nervously on the back of his neck instead. “Right,” he said again. “So.” Jesse McCree, chatty little shithead, at a loss for words. “What can I do? You ain’t gonna tell me this and then just tell me to wait for you to sort it out, right? Cause that ain’t cool, boss.”
Well, shit. Gabriel had been so focused on his own culpability that he hadn’t really thought ahead to the kid worrying about him. He should have. He worried about Jesse. But he had a fantastic propensity for sticking his head up his own ass and he’d been too focused on delivering the truth about the Problem that he’d just not… gotten that far.
“I”m not gonna drop dead on you anytime soon,” he said gruffly, and smacked Jesse across the shoulders with something resembling a comforting motion, if you squinted and gave him several breaks. “Listen around, see if anyone’s good with genetics or healing magic. Jack said he had some leads to look at. The reason I told you this is because you’re old enough to get the truth, and you deserve to be treated like an adult. Also, you’re a nosy pendejo. You’d figure it out eventually on your own.”
“You trained me to be a nosy pendejo!” Jesse laughed, because that was easier. He’d sworn he wouldn’t get too comfortable with Blackwatch. With Gabe and Jack and all the others. Because getting attached was just a recipe for trouble. But it had snuck up on him somehow. He frowned petulantly and reached down to pick up the string of lights.
“I’ll put my ear to the ground.” Keeping his eyes on the tree, Jesse tried to sound unbothered. “Since you ain’t plannin’ on kickin’ the bucket any time soon, you, uh...you wanna stay and help me trim the tree?” He barely paused before clearing his throat. “I mean I get it if you got better shit to do.”
“Nah, I brought out your natural nosy pendejo tendencies that were already there. Like some artist sculpting marble. Or tin. Tin’d work better for you.” Gabriel had already reached for the pruning shears in answer to Jesse’s question, ignoring the many outs and implied you-don’t-have-to’s that the younger man provided. They had had so few Christmases where they could just lay back and enjoy the season, and he knew that Jesse hadn’t had any before Overwatch had gotten him. The kid deserved a little decorating help, Christ.
“I hope you’ve got a hand vac because this fucker’s gonna shed,” Gabe said, and got to work.
Jesse hid a small smile by turning towards the tree too. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered as he started stringing the lights up around the tree. “This tin soldier’s resourceful. I’ll figure something out.”