McCree x Reader |Serious|

Jesse McCree was something of an enigma to even those who knew him best. Granted the only ones who knew him well were law enforcement officers, but it was clear that even if you wanted to get close to him, it was practically impossible.

Well, save for one individual.

“Easy, Jesse. Easy.” You coaxed him into the medical bay, helping the heavy man onto one of the examination tables. If it weren’t for you holding him up he would have dropped to the floor a long while ago. You were careful in settling him down, making sure he didn’t slump over and block what little air he had going into his lungs.

The outlaw didn’t think anything of it, trying to play it cool with a pained chuckle. With his currently glitching prosthetic, he pushed the hair out of his face, signature hat lost somewhere in the scramble to get him to safety.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me.” He said with his usual arrogance, albeit quieter. “But that can’t be so; the (Name) I know’d be scoldin’ me fer doin’ somethin’ so stupid.”

“We’ll get to that part later.” You told him with a no-nonsense frown, pulling out the first-aid kit with its array of tools and bandages. “I’ve got to clean this mess up, first.”

“I believe you mean ‘hot’ mess.” He corrected you, queuing the eyeroll.

“Unless you want to puncture a lung with that fractured rib, you’d better quit talking.” You warned, taking the bright red cloth draped over his shoulders and putting it aside. He gave you a lopsided grin that wanted to tell you he didn’t care, though it was clear he was doing a poor job of fighting off the pain.

They were injuries that could’ve been avoided, of course. And it was all your fault, no less. Your first time out on the field, trying your best to heal alongside Dr. Ziegler, aka Mercy, only to forget all your training the second you were face to face with the enemy.

It was all going well until that one bad guy passed through the defenses, targeting you.

“Honestly…” You sighed to yourself, managing to break past his armor to see the severity of the wounds. “You didn’t have to jump in the way like that. You should’ve minded your own business.”

Jesse grunted softly in disagreement, knowing better than to speak. Instead he watched you work silently, eyes glazed over from exhaustion. You wasted no time wrapping up his chest, taking extra care to restrict movement and secure his ribcage. You’d already felt four of them broken, God knows how many more were fractured in there.

“Dr. Ziegler said she’s never seen you take such a beating on the field, before. You never get hurt like this. Even though you’re so cocky, you’re careful.” You repeated what she’d said when delivered emergency first-aid on the battlefield. “She has no idea what’s gotten into you. Frankly, I don’t either. I mean, what were you thinking? Jumping in the way like that?”

“I was thinkin’...” He cautiously spoke up as you tied the bandages around his shoulder, “Somebody needed to protect you. Unless o’ course, you wanted to get yer face blown off.”

You quirked an eyebrow, unamused. Jesse’s lips curved upward. “I would’ve survived if I took a hit. I’ve had plenty of defensive training from you and Jack. You really think I wouldn’t have been able to take that?”

“The bastard had a shotgun pointed straight at yer face, (Name).” He reasoned, looking rather serious, for once.

“I-I had enough time to avoid it-”

“I couldn’t have dodged somethin’ like that even if I wanted to.” He interrupted you, narrowing his eyes. “You really think I’d’ve jumped in there if I didn’t think you could handle it? I know you’re not weak, but you’re also not a fighter. You’re support- somethin’ you can’t do if you nearly get yer brains blown out.”

“Whatever.” You grumbled, grabbing the gauze and some salve once you were satisfied with your work on his major wounds. Though you found it a little more difficult to focus, considering his chest was bare, and you were right in his face to take care of all those cuts and the blood oozing from his nose. You nearly got carried away when you began to realize just how sharp his features were...the chiseled jaw...strong nose…

“Ooh.” He jolted when you pressed a little too hard on one of his cuts. You jumped back, blushing brightly. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Sorry-” You quickly apologized, “I-I didn’t mean to-”

“S’fine, darlin’.” He brushed you off, “I know it’s easy to get carried away, lookin’ at a face as perfect as this.”

And whatever attraction you had felt towards him for that fleeting moment died the very next instant.

“Don’t get too full of yourself.” You snapped, “I’m the one with the gauze, remember?”

“Right.” He was right back to behaving himself. You huffed, getting back to work. Gently, you worked on his cuts, gingerly wiping away the blood and its stains, placing bandages over the gashes littering his cheeks and forehead.

Every single injury you worked on healing just piled on the guilt.

You could see it now, the way it kept playing over and over in your head. It was an endless loop of what could’ve been your last moments on earth; the barrel of the shotgun, centimeters from your face. The sound of someone calling your name, your body suddenly crashing into the ground and watching, dazed, as McCree himself charged into the villain.

You remembered watching them struggle, the volley of gunshots being fired, and then silence. You were scared he had taken the fall for you. Then you saw the short-circuiting hand reaching for you, helping you from the ground and the fuzzy sound of his voice, asking if you were alright.

Then he fell on top of you.

You pursed your lips, putting the finishing touches on his facial injuries. That story could’ve gone a very different direction, if it weren’t for Jesse. Cocky or no, you owed him your life. Though you were feeling a little less inclined to be in his debt when you felt his eyes on you, watching your every move.

“...Is there a reason you’re watching me?”

“Not at all.” He replied, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Well, ‘cept for the fact I can’t help noticin’ how pretty you are up close.”

As if you didn’t need another reason to blush.

“Will you give it a rest, already?!” You cried, resisting the urge to poke him in the fractured rib. Jesse snickered at your indignance, hands up in surrender. Well, one of them- the prosthetic seemed keen on staying limp and utterly useless.

“You were spacin’ out, again. I was just makin’ sure you were payin’ attention, that’s all.” He replied, “You wouldn’t hurt an injured soldier, would ya?”

“You’re no soldier.” You muttered, “You’re an outlaw with an ego bigger than the state of Texas.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Just shut up and give me your arm.” You responded in kind, taking to the tools in the kit. Being a member of the medical team required you have extensive knowledge in repairing advanced prosthetics, which Jesse clearly needed. He’d made impact with that arm, of course.

A few minutes of silence passed, save for the quiet squeaking of the screwdriver as you worked on his arm. Jesse gazed down at you, watching as you slipped into that faraway expression, again. He could tell, you weren’t all there.

“You alright, (Name)?” He finally asked you, “You’re a little off. You didn’t take a hit, didja?”

“Of course I didn’t. You practically headbutted the guy before he could do anything, remember?” You told him, trading the screwdriver for another tool.

“Sure do, but...you seem to be more rattled by what happened than I am. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ through that pretty little head of yours?” He continued, expression curious. You cast him a wary glance, your frown drawn into a thin, pressed line.

“You want to know what’s going on?” You sighed, “You mean, aside from the fact that I nearly died and made a fool out of myself, today? Besides you jumping in acting like a hero, taking the hit for me and almost getting yourself killed? And then I’m over here, dragging you into the medical bay, patching you up while you’re acting like nothing’s wrong??”

Jesse stared at you, watching the tears build in your eyes. He’d never seen you cry, before. Not once.

“I-I mean, I’m worried sick about you, and you’re over here, just having a great time, like nothing’s wrong! Like you didn’t just get your arm blown to pieces and you didn’t get smashed in the nose, or get your bones broken, or anything… Geez, Jesse, why can’t you just- w-why can’t you just be serious for once?”

“...Huh.” Jesse was at a loss for words, watching the single tear slip down your cheek. What was left of his heart twinged painfully, watching you struggle to keep your composure and finish repairing his arm. You couldn’t look at him, face flushed from holding back the tears, and your embarrassment after saying what you did.

“Y-you saved my life. And I...I don’t know about you, but I think that’s really serious. The fact that you took all this on for my sake, it...it really means a lot to me. I-I just don’t get how you can treat all this so lightly.”

“I ain’t treatin’ nothin’ lightly, sweetheart. Trust me.” He said softly, looking at you with a warm respect. “I could be wrong, but somethin’ tells me you’d be a lot more worried if I wasn’t actin’ like my usual self. Serious ain’t exactly somethin’ you’d wanna get a look at. See, my ‘serious’ is makin’ sure you’re safe on the field, out there. My ‘serious’ is seein’ that man charge at you, and me chargin’ right back. My ‘serious’ is havin’ nothin’ else on my mind but protectin’ the people I care about. And when I protect, (Name), I protect.”

You fell silent, listening to him speak. It was the first time you’d ever heard him open up to you like this. You spared a quick glance, finding no mirth in his deep, brown eyes. Instead, all you saw was concern.

“I coulda lost you today, (Name). S’why I don’t wanna see you out there. What if I couldn’t’ve protected you? Keepin’ you safe is somethin’ I take real serious.” He added, gently hooking a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to him. “You understand that, right?”

“I-I do.” You conceded bashfully, brow furrowing as you stared at him. “But you’ve got to take yourself seriously, too. I don’t want you to get all busted up for my sake. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Pretty bad, I’d wager.” He said, gesturing to you. “I made ya cry, after all. Not somethin’ I really ever wanted to do.”

“I-I’m not crying.” You wiped fervently at your eyes, sniffing loudly. “I’m fine. You were just seeing things.”

“Sure I was.” He mused, tenderly brushing away the tear tracks from your cheek. You couldn’t help staring at him. At the fond smile he wore, treating you with the utmost care. As if your heart rate couldn’t get any faster.

“Jesse…”

“I care about you, (Name). More’n you’ll ever know. So don’t get too upset over me takin’ a hit or two for you. It’s a small price to pay to make sure you’re safe n’ sound.”

“Just…” You sighed, placing your hand over his and giving it a squeeze. “Just make sure you aren’t so wreckless next time, okay? If there ever is a next time, I mean. I’m gonna be doing a lot more defensive training so that never happens again.” You quickly added.

Jesse grinned, reaching up to ruffle your hair. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll be more careful so long as you are- that’ the deal right? I think I can manage that. On one condition.” He added, making you pause.

“And what might that be?”

“I get to train you, personally. Consider it a special set of private lessons, if you will.” He stated. “Might as well make sure you’re gettin’ trained proper if you’re gonna be doin’ more of it, y’know?”

“Why do I get the feeling this ‘training’ isn’t just ‘training’?” You said disdainfully, making him chuckle. Jesse shrugged, pushing off the table with his newly repaired arm.

“Can’t imagine why.” He replied with a smug grin, before planting a kiss on your cheek. You completely seized up, eyes wide in shock.

“W-w-wh-!!”

“I’ll be seein’ you later, darlin’.” He called, slinging his poncho over his shoulder. “Ten o’clock sharp’s when we start our trainin’! Don’t be late; otherwise, I’m gonna come an’ find you, myself.”

All you could do was stand there, barely touching the spot he’d kissed you. That McCree was more dangerous than you realized; he had the power to turn you into complete and total mush.

And you loved it.

…

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“Oh, (Name)! There you are. I just saw Jesse leave. I take it you finished patching him up?”

“W-wha...wha- wha- h-he…”

“Are you alright, dear? Your face is awfully red. You aren’t overheated, are y-”

THUD

“(Name)?! Oh- Ana, come quick!! (Name)’s passed out!! We need help immediately!! S-stay with me, (Name)! Don’t go into the light!”

~Ende~