Chapter Text
Hanzo stares out at the horizon line, across the expanse of the Alboran sea. The crashing of waves against the cliff face and the occasional chirp of crickets are the only sounds that interrupt his own breathing. The tranquility is practically surreal after everything that’s happened, after everything that he’s been through.
The cast at his right side is heavy. The bandages wrapped around his head and midsection feel tight. His legs, still wobbly from disuse. But sitting here on a rock near the cliff face, breathing the briney, crisp evening air in to settle beneath ribs that were broken just a few weeks ago, Hanzo Shimada has never felt more alive.
The fall on their mission hadn’t knocked him out the way that he thought it had. No, that wasn’t what caused him to go under like that. It was a… medically induced coma, Ziegler had said. One that was only supposed to last a few days, just so the good doctor could look after him and make sure he recovered just fine. “Head trauma is not something to take lightly, Mr. Shimada,” she had chirped at him when briefing him on all that had come to pass during the few weeks he’d been gone.
Instead of only a handful of days of recovery, Hanzo’s body refused to awaken after his surgery and subsequent recovery. Was it the physical stress? Was it the ideations he attempted to push to the back of his mind? Was it that his body had simply needed more time to mend itself? Or was it his mind that needed the mending? Hanzo wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he starkly remembered everything that had gone on in his subconscious while he had been, for lack of a better term, “asleep”.
“Han, should you really be out here? Thought that Doc had you on bedrest.”
Hanzo lets his eyes slip shut, a smile crossing his features at the sound of a familiar voice behind him. All whiskey and honey, it soothes over him in a way that nothing else could, not even the crashing of waves against the rocks below.
“I simply wanted to take a walk, McCree. I have been cooped up inside for too long. Don’t deny me this simple pleasure now,” Hanzo says without turning his head to look at him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Han. Mind if I keep you company?”
“Not at all. I would appreciate it.”
Spurs approach him after that, followed by a grunt and a soft noise as Jesse sits by him on the flat rock, joining Hanzo while he watches the sun as it lazily descends towards the sea. Hanzo places a hand between them to prop himself up better. McCree gently places his hand over Hanzo’s in kind.
Ziegler told him that Jesse had been at his bedside constantly during the few weeks he’d been under. Hell, Jesse had been the first one to rush to the pile of rubble Hanzo had fallen on back at that mission, right when his comm had cut out. Hanzo figured that he had just blamed himself, as Jesse McCree is wont to do, and tried not to let the thrill of what that could possibly mean worm itself under his skin.
However… Ever since he woke up, Jesse has been there beside him, rarely giving him enough space to breathe, let alone think about the underlying meaning behind his actions. It was only brief moments, like right before bed or just minutes ago, where he had had a chance to process everything that happened.
Fighting tooth and nail to survive, fighting against his own body and mind, made Hanzo realize he’s been taking far too many aspects of his life for granted.
“Jesse,” Hanzo says softly, voice so quiet it almost cannot be heard over the waves and the gulls, but he knows that his friend hears him by the way his hand shifts on top of Hanzo’s and he leans closer to him. His heart hammers against bruised ribs. His palms sweat in trepidation. Still, he soldiers on.
“I… I know that I am… not the best at discussing these things , but, well, after…” Hanzo sucks in a deep, stuttering breath, wincing only slightly at the way his lungs push against the tight bandages around his chest, before he continues on, “after all that happened, after almost dying, I can’t afford not to say this to you…”
And there, he stops. The words are there in his throat, begging to climb out, clawing at his esophagus and trying to escape him in a rush. But he can’t manage to push through the knot in his midsection and the fear of rejection that’s draped over his back like a cold, wet blanket. The silence between them is deafening. He can feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes in frustration. Why can’t he just–
Jesse squeezes his hand tightly.
Hanzo’s eyes widen.
“I know darlin’, me too. Me too.”
Euphoria rushes through Hanzo, starting as a warm buzz in his midsection until the tips of his fingers, toes, and even his nose are alight. He feels the same . Jesse scoots just the slightest bit closer to him and lets go of his hand, only so he can wrap an arm loosely around his midsection. Hanzo cannot stop the smile that blooms across his bruised features, even as he leans his head down to settle on Jesse’s shoulder. He tries to convey what he couldn’t say by rubbing his cheek against the fabric of his shirt, by resting the hand that McCree was just holding against his thigh, and sits there pressed against him as best as he can be.
Right here, right now, watching the sunset across the Alboran sea, cuddled up to Jesse McCree, Hanzo knows that there is no place in the world that he would rather be.