makeycuhurt.
⌠♞⌡ ;; “You say that like we’re tryin’ to erase what happened.” Mccree’s voice was gentle. He’d hardly known Amelie, back before he left, but he still felt a sort of loyalty to her – Reyes had always described him as a “lost puppy,” latching on to Overwatch like he had.
“We wanna help you, Amelie. Pretendin’ like the shit you went through never happened is the opposite of that.”
"Your idea if HELPING ME is not what I need nor deserve. It is useless. Amelie isn’t here anymore, sharpshooter.” Neither was Widowmaker. The woman sitting before Jesse McCree was some sort of broken soul, a mix of the remorseless killer and loving wife that had once been Overwatch’s heart.
The not-Widowmaker brought her legs up to her chest, trying to ignore the itch of the barely-cloth gown as it scraped across purple skin. “They will not stop looking for me.”
