#batoid

ldksakds 

A/N:  (For the Hurt Meme.)

TY!  

I'm thinking of probably continuing this at some point, b/c I had some ideas.  If so, I’ll tag you in those posts, in case you wanted to read the follow-up.

(Also posted on AO3.)  

The arrows fly with speed and precision, hitting their marks before bullets have time to fly his way.  He focuses on the area in front of him, McCree at his back, the sound of gunshots piercing his ears.

He ignores it and concentrates on the task at hand, the wave of enemies becoming smaller and smaller.  

He’s drawing back another arrow, about to let it fly when he hears a startled, pained shout, followed by a series of gun blasts.

He takes out the man he’s aiming at, then whirls around.

McCree’s on the ground, Peacekeeper at his side and his head absent of his signature hat.  Hanzo watches as he pulls a dart from his arm, tosses it to the side as he winces and pants, body collapsing.

He watches the man try to push himself back up, arms once more giving out.  He lays still, chest rising and falling.  His face shifts from a display of pain to confusion.

“Darlin’, Han, I- I can’t see.   What’s happenin’ to me?”  

He can sense the rising distress in the cowboy, the way it flickers through his features.  And he has every right to be afraid, because, much to Hanzo’s horror, the lacerations along the man’s arm and face are beginning to emit smoke.

Hanzo glances around, quickly checking their surroundings for would-be attackers.  Seeing none, he moves toward his partner, kneeling by his side with his bow still clutched tightly in hand, ready to use at a moment’s notice.  He spares no time in paging for a medic, then focuses his attention on Jesse.

“McCree, be still.”  The words come out harsher than he means and he internally berates himself as he changes his tone.   “Do not move.  You will be fine.”

The injured man stops his attempt at uncoordinated movements and gazes up at the sky.

“H-Han, somethin’-  somethin’s wrong.  My arm don’t feel right.”  

The way Jesse’s voice trembles around the words, around the nickname, sends a surge of panic through him.  The man’s eyes blink slowly, dazed and unfocused.  There’s a slight shaking in his limbs as the plume of smoke, dark as a night sky obscured by storm, grows and curls into the air.

Admittedly, he feels more than uneasy over the idea of touching him while he’s in this state.  (He’s not really much for physical contact regardless, but...as much as he hated to admit it, the man and his ways had begun to grow on him over the months.)  He forces himself to grab onto McCree’s hand, squeezing the metal gently, but firmly, enough so the sensation would register..  

He could allow him this small comfort.

“It will be fine.  The doctor will be here soon.”  He eyes the dart by Jesse’s side.  He scoops it up, examines it.  

He’s seen poison darts before, but nothing about this screams a content he is familiar with.  What could make a human smoke like this?

“Hanzo.”  He flicks his eyes back up to the man’s face, the hand clutching his like a lifeline.  “I’m sorry that I-”

“Hush.  Hush, McCree.”  He stares down at him, thankful that the man cannot see the look on his face, the utter concern and fear that must be screaming in his eyes.  

“You have no need to apologize.”  He should be the one apologizing.  He hadn’t protected him well enough, had allowed the enemy to sneak up on them and attack.

He curses himself for this display of weakness.  Curses himself more for allowing this man past his walls.  Especially so soon.

He does not know how he allowed it to happen.  Much like this attack, it seemed to occur without warning, taking over before he could stop it.

He does not understand.  But he knows, now more than ever, that he cannot afford to lose this man.

“Han-”  The voice tears him from thought.

“Shhh.  Be quiet for once.”

A light smile graces the cowboy’s face and Hanzo feels the slight pressure, almost ticklish, of a thumb brushing his hand.  “Sure thing, Sweetpea.”

They fall into silence.  A breeze blows, cool against their burning skin, hot from action and injury and the beating sun.  In the distance is the echo of gunfire and turrets.

After awhile there is the sound of something landing on the roof.

Hanzo quickly yanks his hand from McCree’s grasp, turns, grabbing his bow and readying himself.  

He lowers it slightly when he catches sight of the outstretched wings, anxiety twisting for a moment into relief, and then back again.

“The doctor has arrived.”

He moves away from the cowboy, giving Mercy room to work. He nears the edge of the roof,  looks out at their surroundings.

In the background he can hear McCree trying to lighten the mood with his words, can hear the hum of the doctor’s staff.

He looks out and tries to distract himself from the memory-  the shock and dread written on her face.  The look in her eyes that told him that she had seen this before, that the scene before her was like a ghost from the past coming back to haunt.

that whole album gives me LIFE  and i can def see the genji vibes A++