// So I ended up collaborating with my McCree for my McSombra Gift Exchange! My giftee is @shadowathighnoon Sorry I kept you waiting Lovely! I hope you like it! <3//
“Sueltame pendejo!”
A sinister chuckle, the sort of chuckle that sent shivers down your spine, was the response to such heated words, as though the anger that colored her tone was nothing more than a broma. Soon enough he’d learn his mistake. Her cerulean hues were narrowed in anger as she struggled against the vice-like grip of her would be captor, her slender hands balled into fists in her effort to free herself.
“Te lo juro que te arrepentiras de ponerme las manos encima de mi!” she growled, her hues trailing their surroundings.
“I don’t speak Mexican, chica. But I know the boss’ll be mighty happy when I bring you in. The famous Los Muertos hacker… Never thought she’d be a little girl. Not with the trouble you’ve caused.”
Oh, he thought she was trouble before? What a rude awakening he was in for.
“Vete a la mierda cabron!”
With a well placed stamp of her foot, she was able to shock the man into releasing her and then, she was off, running as though her life depended upon it. And as far as she knew, it did. The time for games was gone. There was much more at stake than she could know or comprehend.
Though the man was larger than she was, she was a nimble thing. And no one knew Dorado as well as she did. This was her pais, her home. Even if she’d lost her true family to the Omnic Crisis, she’d found a new one in Los Muertos. And she wasn’t about to lose them again.
The streets and alleyways of Dorado rushed by as she ran, slipping between people. She could hear him shouting after her, could hear the cries of the people he knocked around in his attempt to reach her. Letting out a growl of annoyance, she ducked down an alley, slipping through a boarded up window so that she could hide. The building was a familiar one, a safe house of the gangs that she’d used on more than one occasion to hideout.
Slowly, she moved to back further into the building, her heart racing as she kept a watchful eye on the small entrance she’d slipped through. It was then that she became aware of the fact that she wasn’t alone. Slowly, her gaze shifted to the darkest reaches of the room, confusion taking hold of her sharp features.
“Quien demonios eres tu?”
Inward he took a breath, a steady inhale through lips parted around a cigarette. A bad habit that would more than likely kill him. But it was one he couldn’t kick; like the city around him. He always came back
Dorado. When he first had entered this world of a city that was stuck both in the past, and the ever growing future. He was a child then, eyes wide and mouth agape staring in wonder at the lights that were a brilliant array around him. The sounds of music, dogs, and weeping remembrance of death. The stench of piss that came from a drunkard’s shriveled cock; ammonia and tequila being the aroma that wafted upward. Where the man had pissed near all over himself. The Gringo from America always seemed to find a dog to take the drunkard’s place. Beyond that it was the luring smell of food. Ripe spices being churned into a rich batter of corn and wheat. To the perfume that clung to a youth desperate to run and be in the arms of her forbidden lover. Music was the lyrical heartbeat that pulsates within the city. It didn’t matter how far he was from a six-string; the hum of a spanish guitar seemed to be constant. Dorado had been a city of strange mesmerizing beauty, and deadly promise. But, Dorado always repaid him in one way or another.
God how the city didn’t change, despite the years of not being in the city.
Smoke
Grey and slow as it trailed upward; his eyes the color of burnt amber watched the lazy tendrils that twisted above his head. The grey smoke was the death brand to an addiction. The acidic poison that would burn him from the inside out, like the cigarette that hung between his lips. A slow inhale came, and an exhale through his nostrils. Adding to the slow twisting smoke above his head, casting the man in the black hat in a haze of tobacco and nicotine.
:McCree. Location. Where is the informant?! Do you have eyes on them?
Eyes on the informant? Well, not entirely. But he could hear her. He never came to Dorado unless the city had reason to pay him. This case, he was being paid to find a person. Track them down, and obtain information from them. Locating the woman was not a simple feat to accomplish. He had spent days searching the streets. Each corridor within those desolate backroads seemed to leave him nowhere. He finally managed to find his break on a bitter man spitting, and hissing about a woman that matched the desired description. Like a wolf on the hunt, he trailed the weak creature that searched for the woman. Like the prowling wolf, he waited, and listened. Outside the simple hovel he listened to the struggle within. The heavy breathing could have been mistaken for more, more than a scuffle. But that passing thought was disrupted at the severity of hissed words, the final spat of hate towards one another.
:McCree?! Do you come in? Do you have location on the target?
In his ear the low growl reminded him to answer, and bringing a gloved finger to press against the mechanical piece of tech wrapped to his ear.
“Keep yer’ shirt on, Boss. I have her in my sighs. Jus’ waitin’ on the right moment,” His response was as low and slow as the many exhales that came around his cigarette.
:Don’t fuck this up Kid.
The unseen man over the radio frequency demanded of him, only for silence to follow. Fuck it up? He didn’t plan on it. Not for how long it had taken to find her, where he could have been in a bar drowning out memories that always came back in unwanted dreams.
He had been over the threshold of the small hovel. Atop the grating of a metal roof that was unstable and shoddy at best. He was sure as the sun burned hot that if they had not left from being within the threshold that the slab of metal would have fallen down on top of them. Activity became quick and heavy as the target fled from the hovel. She was quick, lithe like a doe that loped to be free from danger that loomed over her. From being crouched above, waiting with knees bent uncomfortably, he came down to the hard ground. Boots hit the pavement, and he gave chase after her. She went through the streets quick, agile as the cats that chased after mice. Where she had been three strides ahead of him, he was fast to follow at her shadow. Did she know of him? Did she sense he lurked behind her? Even as she finally found solace, and sanctuary?
She had passed into the safety of a home, small and simple. Modest by standards of the city. Defenses were limited from what he gathered. Locked doors, weak windows, and likeliness of tech didn’t seem evident. Searching around the simple shelter, it wasn’t hard to find a door with a lock that trembled to his hand. A quick shove of a broad shoulder against it, and it easily swung inward. Darkness fell heavily over his shoulders, cloaking him in darkness and offering him the shroud that came with the shadows. The hallway was short as he followed it forward, listening through the walls covered in plaster. He could hear her; close and within the shadows itself that his amber eyes searched for. Finally the shadows gave birth to her. Through the darkness he saw her.
Barely in the light that managed to pierce through shuttered windows, he could see her. The olive skin damp with perspiration. Her hair loose, and tousled from the mad sprint she had taken at. Every breath she took his eyes watched the fluttering flinch of muscles that quivered beneath her flesh. Her heavy breathing rasping in the air, her eyes wide and searching to ensure she had arrived alive. Perhaps though it were the closeness that they had finally become that her skin began to prickle. Where her eyes so vivid, and expressive searched for him. That he stood in the shadows that the weak flickering lights from beyond the window couldn’t pierce. Where night offered him a chance to do what Blackwatch taught him. Hunt as a predator and make the predator become the prey.
Her words caught him as odd, and strangely amusing. In the shadows that were darka round his face; he smirked at the situation. She had been accosted by a man that was bitter against her. Wanting to cause harm where she likely had stiffed him on a deal. Yet she had gotten away, feeling confident. Only for her to realize someone else had been there all along.
But he released a breath that had been held in his chest, and answered her question that had been there. “Yeah, been here a while Darlin’,” He spoke with warmth deep in his voice. If the southern sun needed a human vessel it was the man that slowly stepped into view of the dim light. “Ah, ease there. I mean you no harm…” He had heard the scuffle she had with the man previous, and he was damned sure that she could fling hands that could be daggers. Still, he edged closer to her as the lion tamer did the beast in cages.
“Ease. Jus’ need some information from you. I truly mean you no harm, ‘kay?” He repeated words he had spoken just prior. Easing closer to her, but still ready to take stance should she prove dangerous. “I’m assumin’ yer’ Sombra? Well nice to meet’cha, now if you’ll be sweet as strawberry wine. I’ll need you to come with me.” His hands were raised; a symbol and sign that meant he meant little of harm to her. However he paused to lift one hand upward, fingers touching his hat in greeting to her. He had to have been a strange mixture of a man to her. Coming to her in the mid of night. Clothed in black, and holding his hands up in peace. Though, the waiting colt at his hip said otherwise. He still waited, he still edged closer with every throbbing pulse of his heart in his chest.
It was as though time froze in that moment. There was little window of opportunity for her to escape. She had no means of getting away. Not from this man. The only hope she had was to try and get to the window she’d come in through before he could get to her. He was a smart one to have avoided her detection until now. She was normally attentive, aware of her surroundings and any who’s attention she might attract. THis last run in had been far too close for her to take her normal precautions. Now she was paying the price for that. Had he been following her this entire time? There was no way to be sure. Her sapphire hues were wide with a mixture of fear and worry as they searched the darkness for him. How ironic that she should fear that which she had become; la Sombra.
She moved to push back the damp hair that had fallen forward in her haste to escape, her hues narrowing as she tried to hide the fear she felt. It was much too late for that, however. He would have seen it by now, would have accounted for it in the approach he finally made. She slowed her breathing as she moved to bring a slender hand to rest on her hip, canting her head as he finally spoke. The time to escape had passed. She had no choice now but to face him head on and hope that she was smarter than he was.
His tone was warm, almost comforting in nature. Like a warm sunrise. Que raro… Raro mas was the way he was dressed. She watched as he slowly moved to step out of the shadows, the light falling upon him as he sought to comfort her with his words. The hat he wore was reminiscent of a cowboys. As were his boots and his overall demeanor. Was it all an act or was this truly his personality?
“Y como voy a saber si dejas la verdad?” She moved to arch a thin brow as she watched him, intrigued by the fact that he persisted with his approach. Something about him made her want to trust him and yet… When she lived in a world of traicion y muerte… How could she? She had never been one to trust a person on first sight. Hell she wasn’t one to trust anyone. Period.
She tensed once more at his words, at the mention of /information/. “No soy dulce… You’ll find that out soon enough. Informacion es poder… /Vaquero?/ What makes you think that you or your /jefe/ have earned it?” Her slender hand moved to her hip where her machine pistol rested, ready to draw it should she feel he was moving to attack. She watched as he revealed what he knew of her. If he knew her name, he knew her reputation. And still he had come to take her in. “Asume correctamente. Y tu? Como se llamas, huh?”
She watched as he moved to lift his hands in a sign of peace, something that contrasted with his words. She scoffed as she moved to shake her head, damp purple curls brushing against her cheek as she did so. “And why the hell would I do something as stupid as that, hm? I have no idea who you are or who you work for. For all i know, you could be working for the man I just escaped from. No te creo, Vaquero. Perdoname pero… I’m not going anywhere with you.” She moved to draw her weapon then, aiming it at him. She had no intentions of shooting him, but she wanted him to stop moving closer. Her heart raced in her chest as she watched him, her jaw clenching. She could only hope that the presence of her weapon would convince him of the danger she could truly pose.
“Que te quedas donde estas, por favor. I would hate to get blood on that lovely hat of yours.”
And yet the opportunity was not lost upon the Hacker. If someone was looking for her, had /hired/ someone to track her down, there was no other conclusion to come to; she was getting close to the truth. Which meant this man had to know something. Or he would be the first step for her to get to those who /did/ know the truth. Either way, she would find out. As the opportunity presented itself, her violet lips curved into a smirk. Slowly, she moved to close the distance between them, her machine pistol pressing to his waist as she canted her head at him once more. “Pero usted… You’re going to tell me /everything/. Starting with the name of your jefe.”
If she ran, he’d chase. If she tried to fight, he would have to subdue her. There wasn’t a question of letting her go, letting her run off into the night. They. They being the ones that held the leash to the collar that was shackled to his neck. His objective was simple, and here she was in front of him. Moments passed; silent moment before she spoke to him. A thick purr of words to his ear. Slow rolling R’s that that showed itself smoother than black velvet beneath the glow of an amber flame. She had to have friends nearby, they had to have been listening for her. This wasn’t a simple ask to follow, and comply. No one like Her would simply allow without friends knowing where she was, or at least enemies keeping tab. Seconds that passed meant that others would be aware of their location. That much closer to finding them… Securing the informant was superlative. Failure was not an option, not for him, not for any man that once walked with Deadlock Gang and into the thick of territory full of Los Meurtos.
“Right Darlin. I understand, you think I’m some Gringo walkin’ in here demandin’ you come peacefully.” Words were followed with him walking closer. Each step was measured by the inches he took till he found the air full of soap, and perfume from her skin, to the hint of salty sweat that lingered. “Now listen to me, we aren’t safe standin’ here. I had to chase yeh’ this far to find you, just for a conversation. My Boss will happily be wantin’ to talk to you. No harm will come to you, ‘n that I promise. I’ll risk even my left arm if that’d make you feel some peace.”
She wanted him to stay there. To stand where he was and allow for her to run off, be gone like a sigh in the wind. But the firearm that she had present, could rip him apart… if she managed to wrap her hands to the grip fast enough. Fast enough; his fingers reflexively curled an action of readiness to pull the revolver at his hip. The man that held the leash to the chain around his neck, would surely be furious would she be delivered injured. However, should she become a risk, he could wager a reason for why a bullet wound to the shin to be a valid reason. But his mind flinched from the thoughts of completing such an action. Dangerous or not, the thought of injuring a woman or dare bringing their life to a violent end twisted his gut painfully. No; he couldn’t risk her blood being spilt. On some unspoken law of a gunman, he refused to allow that to happen or transpire. Out her breathed, a steady sigh and a following motion of his hand beckoning for calm.
“Please, Darlin. I’m jus’ here to do my job ‘n make sure yer’ safe. I really don’ feel like having my ass chewed out by my Boss,” if a man could be charming in a moment where he stood on the edge of a precipice that ended with the edge of a gun’s barrel pointed towards him, this was it. He tried to smile. Upward lift of his lips, and a show of a woflish-grin. But it quickly faltered and whiskey-toned eyes left the woman that were few short feet from him.
The key to survival was having all surroundings cued into. Attention paid to the smallest of things from the rat that was outside the door skittering around in a crumpled wrapper. The dog that barked at the cat atop the fence. The woman that was across the street making food for a family that eagerly awaited a worthwhile dinner. The world beyond the shelter he had followed her too had fallen silent. The dog whimpered, and cowered away from the cat that audibly hissed in protest and fear. The rat? Probably huddled behind vomit encrusted filth. His eyes searched through the slatted blinds that obscured his vision from pinpointing what had caused the sudden silence. It was the shadow that stretched along the wall of the conjoined building littered with glistening graffiti. One- two-three- four… six… Either it had become a hydra twisting from the shadows distorted, and disfigured as the nightmare they were. Or, it was something of a threat that he had to be ready to deal with. The shape of the weapons became apparent. .
From the low rumble that his voice had been, warm as a summer sunset. It became quiet. Dangerous, yet a steady calm of a trained man, “I need you to be quiet, and calm. I’m going to draw my weapon. Someone’s outside yer’ door. Need yeh to work with me.” Briefly had his eyes cut away from the door that he had been trained on, than it were kicked open.
Inward the door clattered against the wall, breaking the plaster into crumbling sheets. The men that made movement to storm in were not trained. Their clothing gave them away as no one of military standing. The jerseys showing some football team they followed with the large printed numbers across the flimsy material. The chains that hung around their neck, and the dark ink of tattoos across their faces and necks. The Vaquero had seconds to respond. The latch along the holster at his thigh was quickly flipped, and in the heat and grip of his palm was the revolver. Upward his arm was lofted, the iron sites of the weapon quickly leveled to the shadowy head of one, then two, three. A succession of trigger pulls came with every time the arm turned to the next. The curled metal of the trigger a familiar feel, the squeezing action bringing a responsive recoil of the weapon to his hand and forearm. Practiced muscle kept the weapon that he held at deadly accuracy from faltering. To the bullets that exited the weapon, blood splattered the air. Thick droplets painting the stone colored walls a dark crimson that could have been ink black in the night. Their heads snapped backward, then forward with a lazy lull of their chins touching their chests as life left them and they fell downward to the ground. Three bodies, three names, three more lives to be added to his gun.
“Move, move, move! Lets go, now!” He yelled over gunfire that erupted inside.
His hand came forward, grabbing the informant’s arm. He pulled her behind him, pushing, forcing her to move with the weight of his body that pushed her down the hall. Bullets dug into the walls around him. Light Bulbs from overhanging light fixtures burst from the deadly impact of the gunfire. Glass and sparking electricity rained down onto the canvas of his hat. In the adrenaline infused movement that came from retreating to cover, he felt it in the thick of muscle, against his shoulder blade three bullets that punctured his flesh. No man could ignore the pain that came from a bullet wound. But he could ignore faltering and buckling beneath that searing burn of metal capsules that found a warm embrace of flesh and blood.
The Vaquero was a persistent one, of that she was certain. It was in those amber hues of his; defiance and a desire to accept the challenge her capture offered. And yet there was no malice in him. She wasn’t sure just how she knew that, but she did. He was a true caballero, a rarity in the times they found themselves in. He was rough around the edges though, something evidenced by his Southern drawl and the wolfish curve of his lips. He’d seen his fair share of violence, something she would investigate once she made it out of this sticky situation she’d found herself in.
“I wonder, Vaquero… Are you in the habit of making promises you can’t keep?” she purred, a nicked brow lifting as she held his gaze. “No harm will come to me by /your/ hand… But can the same be said of your compadres?” Her gaze flitted to his arm, a flicker of confusion marring her sapphire hues at the reference. Her gaze shifted back to his as he spoke once more, attempting to charm her into submission. Pobrecito. He clearly didn’t understand just how stubborn the Hacker could be. He persisted, urging her to relax, to allow him to do his job and get on with it. He was a handsome one. And had she been in a better mood, she may have indulged him. But there was something in those whiskey hued eyes of his, something that made that debonair smile fall from his lips. His body tensed before her as silence fell around them.
“… Vaquero…” The word was issued on a whisper, her lithe frame tensing as his gaze took in whatever threat loomed behind her. Whatever he saw outside wasn’t good. For either of them. His tone had shifted, the Caballero disappearing to be replaced by the Vaquero. The air around him seemed to shift as he spoke, almost darkening in a sense. Everything in her urged her to run, to not trust him. How could she know this wasn’t a trap? Once more she took note of his features, at how focused he had become, at the deep timbre of his voice, the sincerity lacing his tone even as concentration furrowed his brow. She offered him a curt nod as the sound of splintering wood broke the silence.
She thought she was quick, but she was nothing compared to the man who stood before her. No sooner had the mercs stormed the room than he had drawn his weapon and fired off a few rounds. The metallic scent of blood filled the air as the sickening sound of metal crashing through flesh and bone echoed around them. The sound of their bodies hitting the floor was soon followed by a chorus of gunfire. She ducked at the sound of it, feeling the bullets as they whizzed through the air around them. They had to move, and fast. Lucky for her that the Vaquero had the same idea.
She found herself pushed behind his broad frame, the warmth of his grip on her arm causing her brow to furrow. She was a little thing, a far harder target to hit than he was. And still he shielded her, ushering her down the hallway and further from their assailants. The sound of destruction erupted around them as they open fired upon the safehouse, Sombra flinching as errant bits of debris bounced against her. The muffled sound of bullets burrowing into flesh echoed in her ears as the scent of /his/ blood burned in her nostrils. “/Mierde./” Still he pressed on, forcing them down another hallway so that they had some semblance of cover.
It was her turn to catch hold of him, her gaze holding his as she yanked him flush against her. Her freehand reached for a glowing purple light at her hip, her heart racing in her chest as she moved to throw it out the nearby window. Her gaze lifted to his as she held him close.
“Confia en mi.”
She could hear the approaching footsteps, could hear the gunfire drawing closer even as she allowed her hues to flutter shut. The mercs rounded the corner, guns lifting towards the pair. As the first round of bullets tore through the air, the pair began to pixelate into bright purple light. And just like that, they were gone.
They reappeared several feet outside of the safehouse, the sound of gunfire echoing down to them as she moved to release him.
“No pierdas tiempo. We have to /move/.”
She caught hold of his arm to yank him towards a nearby alley, tugging him further into the darkness of its shadows. Her heart was hammering in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins as her gaze shifted to his once more.
“Asombrarse… Do you always cause this much trouble or am I just lucky?”
Shaking her head, her gaze shifted to where the blood had begun to seep through the fabric of his shirt. Guilt flickered across her sharp features at the sight of it. He’d taken a few rounds for her, a desconocida… Why? Swallowing slowly, she clenched her jaw.
“I know a place. It’s off the grid. Completamente. If I take you there… Don’t make me regret it. Me entiende?”The barrel of her machine pistol pressed to his ribcage as she held his gaze. “You may have saved my ass back there, but I’m not in the habit of making friends. Nor am I about to surrender to you and your jefe. I’m gonna patch you up, and we’re going to forget this even happened. Esta de acuerdo? Por que si no, tell me now and I’ll save myself the headache of dragging your lifeless body from the building.”
The words were harsh and she only meant about 50% of them, but she had to get her point across. Things had become far more dangerous than she had accounted for. She couldn’t afford any liabilities. And that was what the Vaquero would soon become. She was a creature of stealth, working in the shadows. Out of sight and never detected. He was far too /loud/. She was going to regret this.
“Vamanos, Vaquero.”
The machine pistol was holstered as she moved to step away from him, giving him room to move so that he could follow her further down the alley. There was a jalopy waiting there, black and nondescript. She motioned for him to get in before she started it.
“Don’t let appearances fool you, this car has gotten me through its fair share of scraps. It’s never let me down.” There was something akin to affection in her gaze as she moved to pat the dashboard. Letting out a soft chuckle, she moved to pull out of the alley. They still had a ways to go before they were out of harm’s way…
Ahhh what an amazing contribution! You two should write a fanfic together – I bet it would be great! Thank you for participating in the event and thank you to your partner for helping out as well! I hope you two had fun! <33
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