#piercedflora

"An inch of time is an inch of gold but you can't buy that inch of time with an inch of gold." - Chinese Proverb

It was supposed to be an easy mission.  But Jesse should’ve known by then to take those words with a grain of salt.  Hell - he was pretty sure Athena didn’t even know what that word meant anymore.  Either that, or the AI needed some serious upgrades.  But yeah - easy.  Make their way into the abandoned Talon base, deal with any remaining ‘security measures’ and scavenge whatever tech and files they could find.  Winston and Tracer had gone after the files, Jack and Anna were dealing with security, which left Hanzo and himself scrounging through empty laboratories looking for anything that might be useful… or help them get a bead on what Talon’s next moves might be.

Jesse had to admit that the entire mission had felt… off from the beginning.  Why was the place abandoned so suddenly?  Athena didn’t have any intel on that.  But Talon has left in a hurry and Overwatch (still trying to find itself in this new world) needed all the help they could get, so they’d acted.  Now, as he watched Hanzo move quietly along beside him, Jesse hoped things here were exactly what they seemed.  He allowed the hint of a smile to cross his lips as he thought about his previous night with the archer.

What they had was… unexpected.  But also damn good.  How Genji’s wayward brother had managed to become such an important part of his life in such a short amount of time was something Jesse didn’t question too closely.  The man made him happier that he’d thought possible, and that was enough.

Forcing his mind back to the present, Jesse kept his eyes on the corridor as Hanzo moved ahead of him into the next room.  A brilliant blue light suddenly flooded the hallway from the door… before it closed with a soft ‘whoosh-click,’, sealing him off from Hanzo and whatever had been triggered by the archer’s entry into the room.  With a curse, Jesse bounded for the door, trying to pry it open.  “Winston, I gotta problem,” he called into his comm.  “Somthin’s goin on, an’ Hanzo’s stuck in tha middle of it!”  There was a staticky crackle of what might’ve been his teammate’s voice, but nothing discernible.  With another curse, Jesse did the only other thing he could think of - he turned his gun to the door’s control panel, and fired.

The door popped open about an inch, blue light flooding the corridor once more and Jesse leapt forward to pry it the rest of the way open.  Inside he couldn’t really make sense of what exactly was happening.  There was a platform, and in the center was a thrumming, swirling circle of blue light… and it was inhaling everything that wasn’t nailed down!  Hanzo had managed to grab onto a support beam, but his lower body was already within the ravenous void.  Feeling himself being sucked forward as well, Jesse angled for the same beam as Hanzo, grabbing onto his lover with his prosthetic arm, and holding onto the beam with the other.  

Just as he did, Hanzo lost his grip.  Jesse still felt himself holding onto the other man, but the archer was completely within the portal now.  “No, dammit!”  As if crying out could change whatever was happening.  He tried not to crush Hanzo’s arm with his mechanical grip as his serape whipped around between them, dancing in and out of the brilliant blue glow.  Jesse’s hold on the support column loosened.  His arm was in the portal now, but he could still feel Hanzo holding on, so he knew whatever this was, it hadn't killed the other man.  Yet.  

And then the room suddenly went dark.  Jesse heard a sharp ‘crack-pop-sizzle’ as his prosthetic (or what was left of it) dropped uselessly to his side.  What the HELL had just happened?!  Suddenly his comm snapped to life.  “Jesse!  What’s going on down there?!  We had to cut the power…”

Oh… oh god!  He felt his mind start to spiral, but forced words into his mouth.  “Winston!  I lost Hanzo!  You gotta turn the power back on!  We gotta get him back!”  Emergency lights began to flicker on… but the dais where the portal had been stayed dark and empty.  Oh fuck…!

Winston was talking again… asking questions.  Jesse just stared at the place Hanzo had been mere moments before.  Then the voice changed to Jack’s - more demanding.  Gaze sliding down to where his prosthetic hand had once been, Jesse forced himself to take a breath and start talking.  The sooner they figured this out, the sooner he could get Hanzo back.  He needed to focus.  Losing it wouldn’t help the man he’d so quickly grown to love.  The sooner he pulled himself together, the sooner they’d get this figured out and get Hanzo back.  Because there was no way in HELL they weren’t getting the other man back.  Jesse would see to that.

Someone had killed Death.  They all felt it - a deep, wrenching jolt, like how your insides feel when you’re falling.  And just like that, Jesse lost his best friend.  Grief wasn’t something someone like him could afford.  Hell, it wasn’t something any of them could.  They were the Horsemen, and they had jobs to do.  Caring too much didn’t do anything but make their work harder.  But the four of them were a team, of sorts, and losing one of their own resonated deep within them all.  It would’ve been different if Ashe had decided she was ready to leave.  Any of them could do that at any point - say they were done and rejoin the mortal world.  But each of them had caveats.  All it would take for Jesse to lose his title as War would be a loss in battle.  Granted, he didn’t worry much about that happening, but it could.  For Ashe, the mantle could be passed if the one she came for claimed her life instead.  He’d never even thought it was possible.  But someone had done it.  Someone he’d soon be meeting.

Although centuries had passed since Jesse’s own ascension, he still remembered those first few years - how lost he’d felt.  Becoming a Horseman - by choice or not - robbed you of your mortal memories.  You were left bare - an empty vessel with no attachments to the mortal plain.  It was jarring… and lonely.  The others had done their best to soothe those feelings - they all remembered what it was like - and eventually he’d grown into his role as War.

He and Ashe worked together a lot - for understandable reasons.  He guided the eddies and currents of combat, and she claimed the souls of those who lost their lives on his battlefields.  It was like a dance with them - one he’d cherished… one he already missed.  The woman herself wasn’t gone, of course.  When your time as a Horseman was done, you could choose to move on to the next plane, or you could choose a new mortal life.  One way or another, he’d see her again… but it wasn’t the same, dammit!

Now, the three of them stood in their pavilion, far from mortal eyes, and waited for the appearance of their new fourth.  A part of Jesse wanted to lash out at the newcomer as soon as they appeared.  This was the person who’d taken Ashe from him!  They didn’t deserve his acceptance or his empathy!  

Remember…  The voice was like a hushed breath against his ear, but he couldn’t ignore the firm command hidden in that gentle tone.  The Horseman sighed.  It wasn’t his place to judge - he knew that.  Whoever appeared before them was going to be just liked he’d been all those centuries ago.  Lost.  Confused.  Maybe lonely?  He owed it to Ashe to be, for this new Death, what she had once been for him.  A friend.  

So War sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow, shoving his personal grief into the deepest part of himself that he could, and waited for the newest Horseman to arrive.

Jesse had to admit he’d been surprised when the message came over his comm channel.  He was a bounty hunter, after all.  In his line of work he’d caught reprobates from every corner or the galaxy and made sure they got the justice they deserved.  Hired muscle was something new.  Then again, so was being offered a job.  Normally he found his own work whenever the credits started to run low.

Glancing around the cockpit of his ship, Jesse sighed.  He wasn’t in desperate need right now, but this job seemed to be promising a massive amount of credits, and he had been putting off a few upgrades that were on the pricier side.  Besides, what was the harm in hearing the guy out?  Jesse looked at the name again.  He knew it.  Sort of.  He knew the last name.  Shimada.  They were an underworld family, one that had some sort of hold on not just one quadrant, but several.  As far as crime families went, they weren’t bad… so long as you didn’t cross them.  Jesse figured he could go, see what the job was about, and probably refuse (without too much trouble) if it didn’t catch his interest.

Which is how the bounty hunter found himself docking into one of the nicest private space ports he’d ever had access to.  According to the message, he was running about 15 minutes late.  Which was typical.  He’d never been on time a day in his life… and it had even saved his ass once or twice.

Stepping out of the Deadeye, his eyes widened a little at the sight of two other vessels already docked nearby.  The Bastet and the Reaper.  Damn.  This Shimada guy didn’t fuck around.  His eyes narrowed slightly at the Reaper, wondering if Gabe had any clue he’d been invited, too.  Probably not, or he wouldn’t have come.  But that was something he’d worry about later… if he had to.  For now, Jesse was far more focused on how empty the place seemed.  Someone had to be here - they’d accepted his clearance, after all.  But the massive hangar was so quiet he could hear his own breathing.  Just as he wondered if he needed to start talking to the air, a door swooshed open nearby.

There was the sharp clack of heels and a woman rounded the bow of his ship.  Her eyes narrowed as they settled on him.  “You’re late, Mr. McCree.  Follow me.  Quickly.”

Jesse had an excuse on the tip of his tongue, but bit it off at the glare she was giving.  Something told him he could’ve said his mother had died, and this lady wouldn’t’ve cared one lick.  So instead, the bounty hunter stayed silent and did as he was told.  As they walked, he did his best to take everything in.  It was one of the things Gabe had taught him before they parted ways - take in everything because you never know when something you see might come in handy.  The place was an odd juxtaposition of ancient and high-tech, and Jesse decided he kind of liked it.  Whoever had worked to merge the two looks had taste.  Jesse didn’t - but he could recognize when others did.

The rest of the place seemed as quiet as the hangar.  It was a little unsettling; then again, the message he’d received had urged discretion regarding his summons.  Maybe that’s what this was.  Himself and the others - they were meant to be a secret.  Eventually he was escorted into a room that held the same old-world/high-tech ambiance.  The walls looked to be made of paper, but he suspected the appearance was deceptive.  Paper would be a security nightmare, after all.  Inside the room was a conference table, and all the people sitting around it turned to look as he was escorted in.  Five faces, to be exact.  Anna and her husband Reinhardt - Jesse’d worked a few jobs with them in the past.  They were damn fine hunters, and he secretly liked Ana’s ‘badass mom’ attitude and Rein’s terrible puns.  But he’d also stolen a few bounties out from under their noses, too.  That’s just how the game was played.

He nodded to both of them as he took a seat, but refused to meet the gaze that was trying to bore into him.  Gabriel Reyes.  The man who’d taught him everything.  If you asked Gabe, you’d get a lot of growling about how he was nothing but a ‘damn ingrate,’ but he hadn’t walked away from their partnership for no good reason.  Gabe had… taken things too far during a hunt, something that never sat right with Jesse, but he’d stayed (mostly) quiet at the time.  Later, when a stakeout gone wrong took most of his left arm, he used the injury as an excuse to leave, and he was pretty sure Gabe had never forgiven him for it.

Still ignoring his former mentor, Jesse settled his sights on the two men at the head of the table - one seated and the other standing slightly behind.  Neither of them looked happy with him.  He was used to that.  Both men were handsome (even when glaring with such intensity) but Jesse had to fight the urge to give the seated man a teasing wolf whistle.  This had to be Hanzo Shimada... and to say he was handsome would’ve been an extreme understatement.  The man had sharp cheekbones, curious pointed ears, and a well-groomed appearance.  Jesse wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting… but this wasn’t it.  Hanzo couldn’t be that much older than him.  Well... maybe he could.  Some aliens had different life spans, after all.  He’d done his best to read up on his host before arriving, but information had been slim - no doubt on purpose.  Even his usual contacts hadn’t been able to offer much more than basics - heir to the Shimada empire, one younger brother (probably the guy standing behind him?), and a dead mother.  There were some rumors about some interesting cybernetic-style tech… but no one seemed to know exactly what it was or what it could do.

Inclining his head to his host, Jesse gave his most charming smile.  He wasn’t sure it would have any effect, but it was always worth a shot.  “Got hung up.  ‘Preciate y’all waitin’ for me.”  Off to the side he heard Gabriel snort, but he still refused to look at the other hunter.  This wasn’t about them; it was about the man who’d summoned them all here.  So Jesse focused his attention on the one who mattered (and tried to mentally prepare himself for the confrontation he knew was likely to come later.)

Jesse felt a hand in the small of his back and resisted the urge to flatten his ears.  As Masters went, this guy wasn’t all that bad, but it was the situation that had the werewolf on edge.  He was being ‘gifted’ to some newcomer.  Well… not new, exactly.  The family was old.  VERY old.  Not surprising since they were a demonic bloodline.  But the Shimada Clan had recently changed hands (or so he’d gathered from overheard conversations and slave gossip) and his Master was offering him up as a ‘welcome’ gift.

On one hand, he didn’t like this one bit.  Not only would he have to earn a new Master’s trust… but the guy was a damn demon!  On the other hand. A new Master gave Jesse new opportunities.  After all, he wasn’t just some ordinary slave.  Not anymore.  He’d chosen to be here.  He was gathering intel.  This supernatural ring of elite Masters and their slaves was going down if it was the last thing he did.  And if he failed to please this new Master… that time might be coming quicker than planned.  His tail flicked unconsciously with agitation.

“Relax,” a voice whispered softly in one ear.  “You know I would never give you to just anyone.”

A statement which meant nothing to Jesse.  The demon’s prestige didn’t mean he’d be a good Master.  The werewolf was only being gifted because he was the best slave his current Master had.  To offer anything less would be an insult to the Shimadas.  He said nothing in reply… he wasn’t expected to.  Regardless of how much trust he’d earned with the man standing beside him, Jesse was still just a slave.  His opinion in all of this didn’t matter one bit.

If Reyes had any clue what was about to go down, the vampire would’ve been here extracting him in a heartbeat.  The entire organization had heard stories about the Shimadas and their ties to the slave trade.  When he first found out what was going down, Jesse was tempted to ask for an extraction then and there… but he realized that it could be an amazing opportunity.  Infiltrating the Shimadas?  How could he pass that up?  Jesse didn’t mind a little pain if it meant others might be saved from a life of slavery.  Hell, it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle it.  Being a werewolf made him resilient.  Jesse was sure he could handle whatever some demon wanted to throw at him.  Well… mostly sure, at any rate.

A small shiver ran through his body.  It wasn’t that cold in the room… but he wasn’t moving around… and he wasn’t wearing much.  His Master had chosen a theme he no doubt thought suited Jesse’s southern drawl.  The werewolf wore a fringed, dark red leather thong tooled with a western pattern, a red bandanna which hung loosely around his neck, and a 24 kt nipple ring crafted to look like a miniature revolver.  Beyond that, all he had to keep himself warm was his naturally furry self.  Even in his human form, Jesse tended to be on the hairy side.  Right now, he was somewhere in between wolf and man.  Another request by his Master - supposedly in order to heighten his appeal.  He wondered if the new Shimada demon had a thing for animal features.  A lot of people did, he’d learned over the years.  It was a mostly harmless and incredibly amusing fetish (at least to him.)  Lupine ears protruded from Jesse’s head and a bushy tail of deep ruddy brown swayed gently at his lower back.  All the rest of him was decidedly human.  Jesse had suggested claws and teeth, too, but had earned himself a glare.  No… it wouldn’t do to come off as threatening, would it?

The most frustrating thing about all of this (aside from the lack of clothes) was not being able to observe.  Slaves were always expected to look down.  It wasn’t just a deference thing, either.  It was meant to protect Masters from people like him.  After all, if a slave did manage to escape and make it to the authorities alive, it was much harder to identify a voice.  Sometimes Jesse would risk it.  But not here.  Not when his actions could put him and his current Master in a dangerous position.  So Jesse waited, eyes downcast, trying to take in everything he could about the proceedings.

And that was when he heard it.  A voice that seemed to thrum through him, reverberating in his very core.   Although he’d never felt the sensation before, instinct told him exactly what it was.  WHO it was.  His lifemate.  Jesse struggled not to tremble.  To force the instincts aside.  No!  It wasn’t possible!  He was misreading himself.  There was NO WAY his lifemate could be here!  In a room full of people Jesse would gladly give up his life to destroy.  Why would the Fates DO that to him?!  He wanted to look up, to catch sight of who the voice belonged to… but it didn’t take long to figure it out.  The Shimada demon - his new Master.  Jesse’s heart plummeted.  There was no helping it.  He HAD to ask for an extraction now - had to distance himself as quickly as possible.  This mission was beyond compromised… and the longer he stayed here, the harder it would be to walk away.  And he would have to walk away at some point.  Jesse couldn’t be a party to slavery… not even for the sake of his lifemate.  Even now, the thought of leaving tore at him… and for the first time in his life, Jesse McCree hated being a werewolf.