Post lines from a WIP for you, your cat or whatever~
So this one's for @cuteskitty 's amazing idea of an Overwatch Ult combination fic! This is my first time setting foot in the Overwatch writing half instead of reading so, umm, keep that in mind?
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It starts like the best stories do, with a hero, a love story and a happy ending.
Now, now, don't make a face. I c'n see it from here.
What never makes it into the books (yes, plural, don't you think about sassin') is how the hero ain't exactly a hero, least wise the sort that makes it into books for kiddos to read.
The love story ain't conventional neither— not with two men who look like they've fallen out of stories they're supposed to be the heroes of; two sharpshooters, masters of their particular brand of weapon.
I reckon the happy ending's just a happy endin' but y'know, took a hell of a time gettin' there.
A holiday treat for Ashe. A look into the future for Jesse, from the story Shine. A magical!au with now teen!Jesse and his R76 dads, and a side of pre-McHanzo. He’s growing up well in the hands of his adopted family. Warnings for mentions of murder, mentions of a character being held by controlling family members.
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The sun dawns weakly over a horizon covered in white, the faint rose gold of it barely leaving a tinge of color in the cupola where he makes his bed. The small wood stove in his room below is steadily feeding a radiant heat around him, meaning either Jack or Ana are already awake and put more wood on for him. Piled under the softest wool blankets in the whole Coven, Jesse can’t seem to get himself out of bed.
He loves his home at the Watch Tower, where the years have been endlessly good to him. His only grievances are the short rainy seasons of early summer and the long, harsh winters. Though, honestly, Jesse is the only one to find it harsh. The air is sharply cold and snow clouds hover in the skies for days before dumping their load or petering off without so much as a flurry. The days grow shorter, and as the sun lingers less and less, Jesse finds himself chilled and miserably feeble.
Any other day in any other season, Jesse is up with the sun and the first to greet the others of the house. It takes a great gathering of nerve and an insistent hunger to pull him from his nest of wool and flannels in winter. He climbs down the ladder from his cupola and gathers up clothing from his drawers quickly, moving to stand as close to his wood stove as possible as he takes off his pajamas to pull on his longjohns, his denims, and a flannel shirt. He doubles up with wool socks and drapes a small blanket around his shoulders before he steps out of his quarters.
She must have been keeping an eye out for him, because Ana is waiting for Jesse at the bottom of the back staircase with a mug of near scalding coffee for warming his hands and a kiss on his forehead. He has the reflexes to hold his mug up and away as Fareeha barrels into him with a squawk of, “Happy Wintertide, brother Jesse!” It’s early for the child to be up, but it is a holiday she’s been excited over for weeks.
The three of them move into the kitchen for breakfast, and are greeted by Reinhardt singing carols of stars on snowy nights and sleigh bells jingling under lantern light as he mans the stove. He’s produced an impressive pile of honey cakes so far, and in the process of making more. They’ll have more than enough for any visitors that may come by for the holiday, even with the appetites of growning boys like Jesse, Genji, and Winston, who will snack on them all day.
Fareeha joins in with Reinhardt as she scrambles up her chair at the table, singing misheard lyrics as she tucks back into her own buttered and syrup soaked cakes. Torbjörn takes up percussion by tapping his spoon and fork against mugs and plates. Winston and Genji sing with full mouths, laughing as they’re scolded by Angela for being gross. Jack smiles indulgently, humming quietly as he eats, with Gabe, awake hours earlier than he’s used to, leaning against his shoulder and giving a sleepy smile.
There’s an unspoken rule between Jack and Jesse in the winter months, that no matter where they sat, Gabe would sit between them. Gabe was a living furnace that Jack had lived with for so long, so he didn’t handle the cold quite so well. Jesse needed the warmth to make up for the lack of sunshine, and Gabe’s presence was very much welcome. Gabe finds himself sandwiched between them at every turn and takes it in stride.
Jesse joins them at the long kitchen table, and takes his usual seat at the open space on Gabe’s other side. Reinhardt sets a plate before him, stacked with a healthy helping of honey cakes, and Jesse covers them in syrup. They’re fluffy and sweet, but Jesse eats enough for them to sit like cement in his stomach. Between the cakes and the coffee and sitting in range of Gabe’s personal space, he’s warmed from the inside out and finally ready to take on the day.
When everyone is at a point where they’ve had their fill, Fareeha stands on her chair and begins directing the clean up detail. Reinhardt finally sits to eat as the rest of the Coven washes the dishes and packs away leftovers. As they finish each of their duties, everyone migrates into the parlor, where Gabe puts fresh logs in the fireplace and lights them with a lazy flick of his fingers. When they’ve all gathered and made themselves comfortable, Jack takes his place in front of the fireplace to the sound of cheers. He shakes his head in amusement as he shushes them, the boys clamoring louder for it.
Once there is quiet, Jack tells the story of The Longest Night, the appearance of the first Mage. In a time long ago, on the shortest day of the year, a snowstorm blotted out the sun, leaving everything in twilight. A band of travelers were lost in the wilderness with the whiteout conditions and feared they would die if they could not find shelter by nightfall. One traveler begged the heavens, pleaded to the stars hidden beyond the snow filled clouds to give her the answer that would free them from the blizzard. She thought she was not heard, but as she sighed in disappointment, the clouds parted for her. Above, the night sky shined with stars and the travelers used them to find their way to the nearest town, their heroine leading the way to exhale and chase away the storm. It’s morning by the time they arrive, but they are safe and sound, the heavens having given what they needed to survive.
As the tale comes to a close, Jack picks up his gift from the pile that filled the corner. “And so, we give to each other something needed on the shortest day, in hopes that we will be able to make it through the longest night…”
Starting the chain, Jack hands the wrapped box to Winston, who opens it to find notebooks of graph-lined paper. Winston finds his gift and gives it to Genji, in it a polish perfectly suited for dragonscales. Genji passes Gabe a box with a small rainbow in spools of thread. It’s Torbjorn that has the gift for Jesse: wool lined leather gloves, with a stitch so fine, Torbjorn must have talked Gabe into making them. The fit is perfect and Jesse will wear them the rest of winter if he can get away with it. Jesse’s gift to give this year is to Fareeha, and she squeals in glee as she unwraps a small stack of books about birds of prey.
The last present is always for Jack, and in a tradition started by Gabe, the gift is always a gag or prank of some sort. This year, Ana is the one to present a present to Jack, though the box has Gabe’s name listed as the recipient. Both Gabe and Jack nearly laugh themselves sick when Jack pulls out a leash, complete with a collar and tags that hold Gabe’s name.
“Do you think they’ll let you wear this on the Council Floor?” Jack asks with a leer before he peels off into laughter again.
“Maybe if someone else holds the leash,” Gabe snorts. “I’m sure Director Petras would love the illusion that he had some sort of control over me.”
Jack sits with Gabe on the loveseat and gently cups Gabe’s face with his hands. “No one controls a wildfire.”
It’s Gabe that leans in to Jack for a kiss. “No, but I let you contain me freely,” he says.
Jesse joins in the chorus of younger voices calling their display of affection gross, but inside he aches. He knows he growing up now that cooties don’t seem quite so bad anymore, he just hasn’t let anyone know that yet. He dreams of being a strong, confident man much like Gabe and Jack, but he also dreams having a love like theirs, too. A love that is open and beautiful, that stands defiant in the face of all those against them. He dreams of raven hair and dark eyes, of blue and gold dragonscale.
The next few hours are lazy until the Vishkar arrives. Jesse’s in the kitchen for another honey cake and cup of coffee when the knock comes at the door. The Vishkar stays long enough for Reinhardt and Jack to sort out the messages and make sure that no other household has mistakenly slipped in, and leaves with a large bundle of honey cakes for his troubles. The mail is passed out to each recipient, the boys all scrambling to see who’s cared enough to send them good cheer.
Jesse whoops as Jack puts three letters into his hands and he rips his gloves off to tear into the envelopes. He opens a card of Wintertide greetings from the Crusaders, Reinhardt’s birth Clan. The jovial bunch had taken a shine to little Jesse years ago, on his first trip to the Mage Council halls, and they message Jesse often and ask Reinhardt about Jesse regularly. The second letter is well wishes from the Sherrif in Mesa, who Jesse learned was kin to Jack and the reason Jack and Gabe came out to find him all those years ago. He’s been so thankful of her interference in his life, knowing he probably wouldn’t have made it here without her. He hopes she receives the message he sent for the holiday in return.
The third letter is unexpected, a real mystery. At first, Jesse has no idea who it’s from, as there’s no return address and no real signature, just an… -H. Before he even has a chance to read it, Genji is pushing into his personal space to see. It dawns on Jesse in just that moment who -H might be, and yanks the letter away.
“Oh, is that from an admirer?” the Dragon Mage asks slyly.
If it is who he thinks it is, he can’t let Genji see. Jesse shoves him away and tries to leave. He all but crashes into Gabe, who is sturdy and quick enough to keep the boy on his feet. He takes one look at Jesse’s face, probably red as a tomato by the heat Jesse feels in his cheeks, and lets him go. Gabe will probably distract Genji to give Jesse a little time, but Gabe will come looking for him later.
He climbs up into his nest in the cupola, the light of the high noon winter sun shining bright in the clear sky, making a glow as it pours through the windows onto Jesse. Jesse reads the whole thing and rereads it again.
Dearest Sun,
I hope this finds you well, even as the shortest days are here. Think of longer days, when we might meet again, to help make it through. I do.
Yours,
-H
Hanzo. Jesse knows it’s Hanzo.
His heart hammers in his chest and he shoves the letter under his pillows. He wants to see Hanzo, too, but he doesn’t know how to take those words. Are they friendly, or more so? Does Hanzo maybe feel the same way as Jesse? Would they ever have a chance with the Shimada Clan controlling everything Hanzo does? Could it just be that Hanzo wants to know how Genji is doing? Jesse smothers himself with a pillow and yells his frustration into it.
He’s thinking of rereading the letter again when there’s a knock on his door below. After giving a halfhearted call of admittance, Jesse sees Gabe’s head peeking above the ladder. He takes a moment to eye Jesse, probably gauging his mood, before he grumbles.
“Up too early. Nap time.”
Jesse groans. “Aww, no. If you nap here, Jack’ll come looking, and I ain’t got the room for both of ya’ll.”
Frowning, Gabe narrows his eyes at Jesse. “That was never a problem before.”
“I ain’t as small as I ustah be!”
“No, but you’re kind of gangly still…” Gabe disappears for a moment, only to come back up with a thermos of tea and a plate with a bastardized ham sandwich, using honey cakes for bread. Jesse knows a peace offering when he sees one and lets Gabe join him, but he still sighs in exasperation for good measure. He is a teenager, after all, and has an image to cultivate.
Gabe gets comfortable at the foot of Jesse’s makeshift bed and already it’s warmer in there with his presence. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the frame of a window, closing his eyes for just a moment. Jesse waits for either soft snores or the third degree.
“So, Genji thinks you have a secret admirer.”
No snoring, then. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push’em,” Jesse says, fiddling with the edge of a blanket.
“When next you see him, you should tell him that. Why did do it, though?”
Jesse thinks of the letter under the pillow, of the two brothers ripped apart by their own birth Clan. He thinks of Genji’s pain and anger, of Hanzo’s regret and confinement. Uncovering the letter, he smooths out the wrinkled page against his thigh and hands it to Gabe. He watches as Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“I think it’s Hanzo. Didn’t want Genji to see, iffin it was…”
Gabe reads it over again before handing it back. “He courting you?” he bluntly asks.
Jesse sputters an indignant, “N-no!” He knows his face is going red, though.
“You thinking of courting him?” Gabe asks with a tilt of his head, reading Jesse like a book.
Jesse folds the message neatly and tucks it back under a pillow, avoiding looking at Gabe all the while. Finally he sighs, sitting back again a window slowing fogging over with the heat of a Fire Mage furnace, and turns his eyes to Gabe. “I like him well enough… but… Genji… his Clan… And I don’t right know if that’s juss… Hanzo needing a friend or him really being sweet on me, y’know?”
Gabe makes a sound of sympathetic agreement. “I’m proud of you for at least trying to keep your head over your heart.”
“But it’s so confusing, Gabe,” Jesse says, running a weary hand over his face. “My head knows what’s right, but my heart don’t wanna listen. No matter how much I try saying it won’t work, my heart… juss wants to see him smile. It’s like sunshine…” And they both know how much Jesse actually needs sunshine.
They sit in silence for a few moments before Gabe sighs, a smoky trail lifting from his lips. “I actually hate that story Jack tells every year,” he says, voice low. “He never tells about how everyone was so terrified of her that they later slaughtered the Mage in her sleep. Or how she wasn’t really the first Mage, there were others before her, but history has erased them.”
Jesse cringes. “I never much liked it before because it was a story about snow. That’s right terrible, Gabe.”
“I understand why he tells it, though,” Gabe says. “It has themes of looking for answers to make things better, rising up when all is lost, and sharing what you can when others are in need. Do what you have to to make it through the longest night, to see what’s on the other side… Jack and I wouldn’t be here without the ideas behind that story. You wouldn’t be here.”
Nodding, Jesse understands that. If Jack’s cousin, the Sherrif out there on The Mesa, hadn’t thought to call Jack to help Jesse, who knows where Jesse would be right now.
“To be honest, love is kinda the same way,” Gabe goes on, patting Jesse’s knee reassuringly. “You’re young, so it’s always going to feel like every person you fall for is the one. But, Jesse, if you’re willing to work the other person’s affections, they’re trying hard the same for yours, they can be the one. You both should talk. If Hanzo wants more than your friendship, and you want more from Hanzo… Then, do what you have to do to see the other side. Just keep in mind, his Clan will not be kind to you. They’ll be even crueler to Hanzo.”
Jesse swallows and nods. The Shimada Clan were cruel enough to try killing Genji for the formation of his magic, rather than just abandoning him. Hanzo was the heir to the Clan’s leader, and was being forced into the mold; anything that could get in the way would definitely be dealt with. There was a lot for Jesse to think about.
His thoughts were quickly broken by a knock at his door.
“He’s too old for sleepovers, Jack!” Gabe whines pathetically.
The door quietly opens and shuts, Jack showing up on the ladder a moment later. “Nonsense. He’s still gangly. We’ll just have to squeeze in a bit tighter.”
The windows of the cupola have fogged up enough that Jesse couldn’t even see the afternoon sun turning the sky to gold. “No, no way! You will not nap up here!” he shouts, laughing as he defends what space he has for himself.
Gabe topples over, tackling Jesse into the bedding and giving Jack enough room to sit at the top of the ladder. “Our boy is growing up, Jack. We’ve got to stop him, before he’s too strong!”
Jack leans onto Gabe, putting more weight onto Jesse, who’s howling with laughter even as he’s being flattened. “Quick, we’ll squish him back down to size.”
They’re all three laughing, and Jesse is sure the sound of it is carrying through the large house. Before long, Fareeha or Genji and Winston will come barging in to see what’s so amusing. Until then, Jesse is going to let himself be hugged and fussed over by these two men, the closest he’s ever had to parents. These two men who found him all alone in an abandoned barn, desperately wishing for a way home when he had no answers of his own. His own longest night brought him here, giving Jesse the chance to see the other side, and he’s never been more grateful. Or more willing to look forward to the end of another long night.
“He was there,” Hanzo says, voice barely a whisper. He clears his throat; he made a promise to himself that he would not get emotional when discussing his feelings about Jesse. Not that he has discussed them openly before. “You saw him, he was the only one who put in the effort to make sure we were both level-headed, that we did not devolve into physical fights when things got bad. He talked you down, he talked me down.” Hanzo looks at Jesse again. “And then he would make sure that I was okay, during the bad times when you had Master Zenyatta and I had no one, he made sure I was not alone.”
“I bet that went down well.”
Hanzo huffs a laugh. “He learned eventually that if he showed up at my door with alcohol, I would let him in.”
“You two are as bad as each other.”
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I rise from my writing cave to let you all know that I am indeed working on something I can talk about. I’m excited to share this one, guys!
