#youngmchanzo

Hey guys, this is only a small piece that I’m doing of the Deadlock!McCree AU. Tell me what you think anf or if I need to add a little some thing. okay?

The Black Hearted Sweetheart.

 Jesse is the new head of Deadlock Gang when he killed his previous boss. The gang expand internationally under his reign, being the biggest crime syndicate in the most of Southern U.S and Latin America. But the facts stayed that he’s head over heels for one brother killer. He found him in an accident and saved him. But will Hanzo stray from the path of redemption to follow his heart and fall for this crime lord? Will he revert back to being a criminal after years of righting himself? Will those red, merciless eyes stop staring at him with pure adoration that confuses him and makes him filled with butterflies in his belly at the same time? Plus, will his brother ever forgives him for falling in love with the criminal?

 OoOoOoOoOoO

 Jesse opens his eyes in a dark room and felt his fingers twitch minutely to the gun under his pillow. He strains his hearing to the dark room around him and hears a miniscule shuffle near his bed, which is the large, wide sofa right now. He focuses on the swishing sound and realizes that the sound is coming closer. He slowly slides his hand under his pillow and takes hold of his gun. The handle fits in his calloused hand and the cool metal bites his skin, but he ignores it. He takes in a deep breath and calms his mind. The soft padding sound is now right beside his bed.

Quick as lighting, after years of being the target of too many assassination attempts, he draws his gun but didn’t see the intruder. He looks down when a grumpy woof is heard and groans when a heavy weight settles onto him so very suddenly. He grunts out a bit when the heavy weight sits on his chest. He’s too tired for this.

Just as he thought of that, the old dog starts to slobber him with saliva.

He sputters and spits, pushing the mutt’s muzzle away from his face.

“AMELIE!!!” He yells that 8 a.m in the morning.

Just then, his penthouse elevator doors open and in walks the woman that’s guilty of bringing the saliva monster to bed. She saunters over to him with an innocent smile. It scares him when she puts that smile on her face. Her skin pale still, but not as deathly as when he first saved her. Her hair still shines a bit of violet hue in the morning ray and she’s wearing one of his favourite red flannel, too big on her person and covers only until the top of her thighs. He glares at her in annoyance as she proceeds to climb on the sofa and settles on top of him and pulls his flesh arm under her to wrap it around her waist. She tucks her head under his chin as she snuggles to him, the dog turns his attention to her and snuggles to her chest.

“Don’t be mad at Gerard. He only misses you.” Her French accent came out strong, seems like she just woke up herself.

“Pfft, he only misses me ‘cause I keep on sneakin’ ‘im snacks.” He deadpans.

“Your own fault then.” She smiles as her eyes starts to droop in sleepiness.

“Ahh hush up and go to sleep.” He grumbles, eyes tired and body exhausted from the trip back from Germany.

A soft hum is her response and her breathing smoothes out, indicating that she already sleeps. He sighs, running his fingers in her loose hair and was about to get some shut eye when a ding from the elevator is heard.

The door opens to an older Japanese man and he bows to Jesse.

“It’s good that you’ve returned safe, Young Ma-“He was cut off when Jesse holds up his finger.

“I mean, Mr. Eastwood.” He smiles and rolls his eyes when McCree smiles a bit smug. He clears his throat and starts to make his way to the penthouse’s kitchen, preparing his coffee and breakfast for the others.

“I take it that the meet up went well?” He asks, pausing from wearing a plain white apron to look at Jesse and he’s got a sheepish smile in return. He sighs in exasperation, he knows what it means.

“Did you at least dispose of the body?” He inquires, hands on his hips as he stares Jesse down.

“I did! I just thought that he’ll make things easier and just goddamn agree. I think I’m banned from Germany now.” He huffs indignantly, his mouth in a pout. All the while in his rant, the asia man went to the kitchen to start on breakfast. 

“Any witnesses?” He starts to make a pancake batter, mixing the ingredients in a large bowl. His eyes and focus are on the task at hand but his mind is still on trying to pry the information from the gunslinger.

“Nope. I’m better than that.” He yawns out. He needs to shave again, his stubble is getting out of hand.

“How’s here been doin’, might I ask?” He slowly raises himself just to lean against the armrest. He removes his arm from under Amelie and she growls in annoyance but otherwise doesn’t wake. He runs his fingers lightly on her hair and her face softens again.

“Everything has been doing fine, Amelie had a bit of trouble in her memories and her, dare I say it, ‘heart reactor’,” He makes an air quote with his free hand, “…is acting up again. But a little fix and meds did wonders to her.” He flips a pancake and stacks them on a couple of plates.

“I need to check up on that.” He mumbles to himself, his mind already on the schematics of her artificial heart and trying to identify the problem that would cause it to act up again. When he zones out, Norio is already setting up the breakfast table and as he pours the dog food in the doggy bowl, said dog wakes up instantly and jumps off of McCree. Stepping on Jesse’s abdomen and he oofs in slight pain. He glares at the dog lightly and Amelie stirs awake next to him. He gently shakes her awake and she sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Well, good mornin’ there, Charlotte.” He snickers when she throws an icy glare at him.

“Someone is going to die this morning, and that someone wears a ridiculous cowboy hat.” She growls out, her hand already reaching for his throat.

“Now, hold up… Don’t bite the hand that feeds ya! Amelie, no.” He raises his hands in mock surrender and he smiles unsurely.

“Amelie yes.” She hisses.

“Now, Miss Lacroix, I have prepared pancakes and as much as you would like to, as you say, ‘hand his ass over in a silver platter’, I would very much appreciate it if you do it after breakfast.” He finishes setting up the breakfast table, the dog already started eating.

She lits up a bit when the smell of pancakes wafts into her nose. She slides off of Jesse and pads over to the table, smile widening as she regards Norio like he’s an angel.

“What did he do to deserve you, Norio?” She asks as she regards the full breakfast table in awe. She raises her glass of orange juice to him in mock salute and he lightly bows his head to her. Jesse gets up from the sofa and makes his way over to them. He nods his thanks as Norio hands him his morning coffee and takes a light sip before humming in appreciation. Norio had always known his coffee preference.

Amelie starts of her breakfast with a stacked pancakes and swipes a few strawberries from the bowl near her. Jesse takes a couple of bacons and eggs, his glass of orange juice next to his prosthetic.

“Y’know, sometimes I wonder who takes care of who here.” He muses out loud as he checks his pad while simultaneously reads the daily news on it.

“I wonder too, Jesse-san.” Norio muses, his mug of steaming tea in front of him. His plate consisting of a couple of pancakes and two bacons.

“Any troubles with Overwatch lately?” He sips his coffee and takes a bite out of his bacon after. The news stating that Overwatch just busted an attempted robbery. He sees one of his subordinates in the background picture. He needs to speak with him later.

“Not any that I know of, Jesse-san.” He replies, he sneaks a couple of bacons under the table to feed the old dog. Jesse knows that they’re all just spoiling the old coot, despite the doctor’s order, but they couldn’t help it. Gerard has been with them from when he brought in Amelie. He found her when Talon practically abandoned her after an attempt at his life, she was having a panic attack from what he could see. Her breaths coming out short and erratic, her eyes unfocused and panicking. He wanted so bad to put an end to her misery, his revolver already cocked and aimed directly at her head, but … he couldn’t when she started to sob pathetically. So he took her in, checked up on her and found out that she has heart problems, and that her heart was slowly decaying. He built her a new heart, and he didn’t know why, but she just woke up one morning confused and different from the heartless, cold, tongue-like-a-whip, sniper. Her bark is just as bad as her bite though.

When he asks what she does remember, she replies that her name is Amelie Lacroix and that she knows someone of the name Gerard. That was nearly two years ago. Every now and then she would regain bits and pieces of her memory, like when she remembered the man named Reyes. He curses that she knew that bastard. He’s been on his tail since his name came out, not publicly, but being a leader of a big and successful mafia group makes you known in the black market. Hell, his head alone is a cruise ship with an indoor jacuzzi. He doesn’t want to know what they’ll do if they caught him alive.

It was hard for her to adjust living with him. Mostly because she thought that he kidnapped her and wanted to use her as some kind of whore, which he later exclaims that he does no such thing, then she thought he wanted to use her as a mistress, who still uses that term? When he told her that he swings the other way, she just sighs is relief, stating that she can do better than a cowboy with a poncho, which he later whines, saying it’s a serape.

“Then what do you want me for, cowboy?” She asked that night, facing the glass wall, staring over the city below, her skin deathly white then, and her expression lost and longing for things she can’t recall. People whose names she can’t remember and a life she can’t return to.

“I think I just got a bit lonely ‘ere at the top ‘o the world.” He responded, his eyes over the twinkling city lights and his cigarillo unlit between his chapped and bleeding lips from when she punched him when he accidentally walked in on her in a towel earlier that day. She apologizes profusely afterwards. She couldn’t remember why her body started to move instinctively like that and it frightened her.

She tucks her legs under her, snuggling into the armchair that she dragged to the glass wall, and wraps her bathrobe tighter around her person. He walks to her when she seemed to dwell into memories on her mind that she can’t catch. The memories slipping through her thoughts like sands on a beach. He picks her up, she shows no resistance, and he places her on his lap. Her head on his chest and his arm around her shoulders and the other resting lightly on her hip. He wanted so bad to send her away when she woke up, her heart already replaced and her health seemed fine to him. But the look of fear and lost, similar to when he looked like when his parents were killed and Deadlock took him in.

“You don’t seem to mind the loneliness here, cowboy.” She whispers out, her voice the only sound in the dark living room, the rain starting to drip on the glass. The thunder rumbles in the far distance.

“I may not look it, but I’m lonelier than a ghost in these empty walls.” He murmurs, a deep sadness lacing in his voice, his arms tightening around her and his brows furrowing, creating a small wrinkle between it. His young face looking older in the shadows when he scowls like that. She reaches up and lightly runs her fingers at the fringes of his shaggy brown hair. He takes in a deep breath and slowly breathes out, relaxing the tense in his shoulders. When his previous boss recruited him, he was only around 13. Just a dumb kid that thought the world was at his feet. Thinking he could out beat anyone in a shooting challenge, and boy did he won plenty back then. His pa was a good and honest sheriff, the small town where he came from, they still use that ancient term, back home. The people admired his selflessness and easy going nature. He remembered when he showed him how to hold a gun correctly and taught him how to shoot. He remembered that they both enjoyed cliché cowboy movies. Some awful, some good.

His ma, well…she was an angel to both the McCree men. She was the one Jesse would run to when the bullies would pick on him for his petite frame. She was the one that sang to him soothing Spanish lullabies when he couldn’t sleep in stormy nights. She was the one that would pull his ear till it’s red when he misbehaves. She was the one that told him to hide in the basement when those men came their home. Her screams were what he remembered when they killed her, his pa tried to protect his family, he tried his hardest, but he ended up with a more than a few bullets on his person. Not a peep came from him all night long. That morning when he heard shuffling atop his head, his hope high, hope that his parents were alive shattered when more men came.

After they took him captive, he was presented to their boss. He didn’t know what his boss saw in him, but he took Jesse in and gave him a home, if that’s what you could call it. He took in Jesse as his disciple for when he’s gone. He taught Jesse a lot of things when in his care. Never raised a hand when he missed a shot, never yelled when he messed up in a small heist. When Jesse asks him one day when he was just 17, he told him that he was just repaying a favour and also that he wanted Jesse to kill the men that took his family away. Jesse did just that. He was only 19 when he first killed a person, but instead of just stopping, he went and took out the entire gang, with a team under his command.  

He was 25 when his caretaker asks him to pull the trigger on him. It was hard for him, to kill the man that became his father figure. Taught him how to use his newfound skills properly. Jesse found out about his Deadeye when he revealed that all McCree men possess them. He was hurt when he thought that he only wanted him as a weapon, but that hurt disappeared when he explained why he took Jesse in. But that’s a story for another time.  

“Well, you are not alone anymore, Mon amie.” She declares quietly. Her voice bringing him out from his memories back to the present, with Amelie smiling up at him and the pitter patter sound of the rain on glass.

“And I’m grateful fer that. Thanks, Charlotte.” She scowls at the nickname, but otherwise leaves it be.

He was brought back from his musing when Gerard places his head on Jesse’s lap. Amelie still eating pancakes that seems to have restocked on her plate and Norio sipping on his tea, eyebrow raised at Jesse’s direction. He waves off his concern and eats his breakfast. He slips his one of his bacon to Gerard.

“Heard anythin’ bout Blackwatch?” He swallows his breakfast and washes it down with coffee.

“Nothing as of now, Jesse. It seems that they’re letting you free reign for now.” He hums when he sees an interesting article in his newspaper. He prefers the paper rather than the tablet, saying that they could be reused again in the near future. Jesse only rolls his eyes at his recyclist friend.

“Did you bring me any gifts, Jesse?” Amelie asks from across the table, a stray maple syrup on the side of her mouth. He reaches forward with a napkin in hand and wipes it off for her. She smiles, pleased.

“I got some dark chocolates fer you and a pair of new gardenin’ gloves fer Norio and also a nice lookin’ pair of combat boots fer me.” He smiles triumphant like.

“I thought you like the cowboy boots I got for you.” She pulls out her bottom lip in a full pout and sags her shoulders, sniffling dramatically.

“Darlin’ don’t pull that frown on me! Makes me feel like I just stomped on a kitten.” He flails a bit in his seat. “I like the boots! Really I do, Darlin’. I just don’t want them ta get more dirt and blood than necessary.” He smiles lopsided when she seems to brighten at the statement.

“There’s that million dollar smile.” He gushes and she throws a pancake in his face. He peels it off his face, “And there’s the Amelie I know and love.” And feeds the pancake to Gerard. He still needs to check over her and interrogate a certain subordinate. But he’ll enjoy his first day back in the states with good breakfast and with people that he cares for. He doesn’t want to ruin a good morning after all.