Archive of Our Own ^beta

October 19th, 2056

“What the hell is this?”

Ashe looked up from her coffee to stare at Cassidy over the table. “Pardon?”

Cole gestured to his pie, frowning. “They used cubed gala apples. You don’t make an apple pie with cubed gala apples . It’s a sin,” he complained, slouching back in his seat. 

Raising an eyebrow, Ashe decided to humor him. “What kind of apples are you supposed to use?”

“Granny Smith. They’re the only acceptable option,” he declared proudly. “And you don’t cube them, you slice them.” Despite his complaints, he went in for another bite. Food wasn’t always easy to come by, so when Ashe announced she was celebrating their newest raid with a midnight break-in to the Panorama Diner, he didn’t object. Sure, he didn’t like breaking into an innocent diner, but free food was too valuable to pass up.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t complain about the terrible apple pie, though.

“And the crust. Don’t get me started on the crust. It’s practically burnt to a crisp.” 

Ashe gave a low hum of indifference. Cole frowned. She had been engaging less and less with him. He couldn’t blame her, not really. Deadlock was growing, and it required her full attention at times.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection he felt whenever she brushed him off. He missed the days where Deadlock was just a group of friends pulling off heists. Now it really felt like a gang, and a violent one at that.

But they were still his family, and he would still stick by them.

Besides, even if he wanted to leave (which he didn’t), there was only one way Ashe would let that happen, and Cole didn’t plan on dying anytime soon.

Ashe seemed to notice him withdrawing, because she sighed. “And how do you know how to make an apple pie? Ain’t like there’s any bakin’ lessons ‘round here,” she said, idly stirring her coffee.

Cole paused. Of all the ways she had to choose to engage with him, she had to pick that one? How was he supposed to explain that his parents taught him when he was a kid without coming off like a sentimental sap? “Oh, y’know, I picked up a thing or two over my years.”

Ashe looked up at that, her red eyes boring into him. Her face twitched, the tell tale sign of her curiosity. “Care to elaborate?”

“Nah,” Cole replied, trying to hold her gaze without flinching. There was no reason to flinch, after all. Ashe was his friend, his family . 

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s your secret?”

‘Nothin’,” Cole said, just a tad bit too defensive to be believable.

“Cole Cassidy, you better tell me whatever it is you’re hidin’.”

“My Papa taught me, okay? Before the crisis,” Cole snapped. “He was makin’ a pie for my Mama’s birthday.” His Mama had walked in halfway through their baking session, bursting into laughter when she caught sight of the young Cole, who was covered from head-to-toe in flour.

Ashe’s face went blank. “Cole,” she said, her tone softer than normal.

“I know, alright? I know it’s stupid to remember that. I just…” He sighed. “I just can’t forget it. No matter how hard I try.” He couldn’t forget any of it, good or bad.

Ashe blinked. He could tell she was miffed over being cut off like that, but she put it aside. “Alright, if you say so,” she said, back to being indifferent. “Just don’t let it get the best of you. We don’t have time for sentimentality.”

“Believe me, I know,” Cole mumbled, taking another bite of the terrible pie. 

It was hard to enjoy the rest of the dinner. Memories kept springing to Cole’s mind, unbidden. How hard his Mama laughed at the sight of him, messy with flour, but so excited to surprise her with the pie. How fond his Papa’s gaze was as he observed his wife and son. How good the pie had tasted when they finally finished it.

Ashe was right, they didn’t have time for sentimentality. But that didn’t stop it from creeping up on Cole, along with the heavy feeling of homesickness. What he wouldn’t give to go back to before the crisis.

As soon as he had the thought, guilt started to creep into him. Sure, it would be nice to go back to his Mama and Papa, but he had a new family. Deadlock. And he shouldn’t be thinking about leaving them like that. 

They deserved his loyalty, at the very least.

And yet… he couldn’t stop thinking about them. His parents. The first people he ever loved. It wasn’t bad to miss them, was it?

But it wasn’t helpful, either. And no one in Deadlock had room for anything that wasn’t helpful. 

“Stop thinkin’ so hard,” Ashe said, red eyes still trained on him despite her facade of indifference. Cole opened his mouth to apologize before stopping himself. Ashe hated when people apologized too much. Called them pushovers.

And Cole Cassidy was not a pushover. He couldn’t afford to be.

“Just… stop thinkin’ about them! They’re dead, and that sucks, but you can’t change it now.” Cole can’t help his physical flinch at the reminder. Ashe presses her lips together “Look, Cassidy, if people see this side of you, they’ll think you’re weak. And Deadlock doesn't have room for people who are weak. So just focus on something else.”

A bitter feeling swept through Cole. What would Ashe know? Her parents hadn’t been good to her, but Cole’s had. They had held him after every nightmare and tucked him in every night and attended every school play. So how could Ashe possibly understand what losing them meant?

The feeling of guilt came back, this time tenfold. If anything, Ashe had it worse than him. She grew up isolated, alone. He had no right to think about her like that. 

“You’re right. I… yeah,” Cole said, trying to make the words sound confident.

It must have worked, because despite his stutter, Ashe nodded approvingly. “Good.”

“Good,” Cole tried to agree, taking another bite of the apple pie. He ignored the horrible quality this time.

They finished their meal in silence, Ashe throwing glances at Cole every few minutes. For his part, Cole thought he did pretty well pretending he wasn’t still struck with thoughts of his Mama and Papa.

Ashe believed him, anyhow, and by the time they were done, she was feeling affectionate enough to pat him on the shoulder as she walked by. Even touches like those were taboo in Deadlock, so it caught Cole by surprise.

“Get some rest, Cassidy. We need you up early tomorrow. Busy day and all that,” she said, throwing him a smirk over her shoulder. “After all, the rich assholes ain’t gonna rob themselves.”

Cole smiled, his first genuine smile since his parents were brought up. “You got it, Boss,” he said with a mock salute. 

Ashe smiled, shoulders shaking with silent laughter as she left the diner. The grin slid off Cole’s face. However genuine his sudden moment of light-heartedness might have been, it was also brief.

In its place returned the dreaded memories of his family. This time, they weren’t so pleasant. His Mama, screaming at him to run from the chaos surrounding them, only seconds later getting shot through the gut. Cole did run, but not in the direction his Mama intended. Instead of running for his life, he ran back to her, shaking her shoulders as tears dripped from his eyes.

“Mama!” He had cried, despite knowing, even at his young age, that she was gone. “Mama, wake up!”

It was a miracle he had gotten away alive, but the attacking Omnics had been so busy trying to create chaos that none of them cared about the harmless little boy crying out for his dead mother. Cole tried to be grateful for his survival, he really did, but it never felt much like a miracle. 

It felt… bitter.

Cole sighed, putting his slice of pie aside. It was only half-way finished, but clearly it was bringing up too many memories for him to handle. Besides, he was getting tired, and Ashe was right. It was a big day tomorrow. They were raiding an highly-guarded facility, and Cole would need his energy.

So, still trying to shove the invasive memories aside, he stood, stretched, and made his way out of the diner, leaving the apple pie behind.

June 12th, 2058

Cole stared straight ahead. The factory in front of him was unassuming, just a large, grey building. There were no bloodstains, no screams of terror, no signs that it was anything other than a plain, ordinary factory.

He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d expected anything to be unusual about it. All his research had pointed to the same conclusion: The La Presa Factory for General Goods was… just that. A normal, boring factory. It wasn’t a cover-up. It wasn’t a fraud. As far as Cole knew, the owners weren’t even skimming money off the top.

There was no reason for Cole to stand in the parking lot and observe it so closely. He had places to be, things to do, an angry commander to face. After all, he probably jeopardized the operation Reyes had spent months planning by running off. And for what? Just to see this factory with his own two eyes? Just to see the plot of land that used to be his home?

What was the point? His childhood house had long since been gone, brought to the ground and replaced with the factory. There was nothing left for him here. Every moment he spent wasting time gawking was another moment Reyes was left dwelling in his anger. Cole really should head back to face the music.

And yet, the thought of turning around, of walking away, felt impossible. It felt like a betrayal. A betrayal to his Mama, his Papa, even to himself.

How could he walk away? How could he just leave this place, leave the memories it held like they didn’t matter?

Instead, he stood, stock still, even as his jaw clenched and his fingernails dug into his palm through his gloves, even as his muscles started to cramp from being locked up. 

It wasn’t clear to him how long he stayed there. Time had faded away, as had everything else. He didn’t move, even when he heard heavy footsteps approaching him. Even when a presence settled in beside him. 

Cole didn’t bother to ask how Reyes had found him, and Reyes didn’t bother to tell him. “You almost compromised the entire operation,” he said. Despite his accusatory words, his tone was neutral. Cole wasn’t sure what to make of that. He had expected much more… rage. “I should probably yell at you.”

“I know,” Cole replied, his voice thick with something he couldn’t place. Heat flared in his cheeks, shame welling inside of him. He should be able to control his emotions better than this.

Silence filled the air between them. Cole watched the factory. Gabriel watched Cole.

“C’mon, kid. Talk to me,” Reyes finally said, placing a large, warm hand on Cole’s shoulder.

Cole let out a bitter chuckle, managing to tear his gaze away from the factory for the first time so he could look down at his boots. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, jefe ,” he mumbled, trying to fight off the waves of emotion rolling through him.

Reyes sighed, and from the corner of his eyes, Cole could see the frown on his face. It wasn’t an angry frown or even a disappointed frown. It just seemed… sad. “Whatever it is you’re dealing with, you don’t have to deal with it by yourself. You’re not alone,” he said, squeezing Cole’s shoulder slightly.

A memory floated into Cole’s mind, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. His mother, his sweet, caring mama, holding him in her arms when he was just a kid, stroking his hair out of his eyes, which were leaking with tears. It had been the first time he’d ever scraped his knee, and it reduced him to sobs.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’ve got you, Cole. You’re not alone,” his mama had said, running a soothing hand through his shaggy hair. “You’re not alone.”

That had been their thing, when they were upset. “You’re not alone,” they would say, A gentle reminder that they had each other, even when things seemed awful.

Cole made a sound deep in his throat, a broken, pitiful noise of distress. It was like that one, insignificant memory had opened up the floodgates, and the rush of recollections that ran through his mind was overwhelming.

His mama, tucking him into bed every night without fail, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she wished him a goodnight. His papa, laying on the floor of the living room, helping him build the lego set he had gotten for his birthday. Both his parents, building a fort out of blankets to distract him when he’d been awoken by nightmares.

Cole took a gasping breath, desperately trying to fight the tears that were springing to his eyes at the onslaught of memories which continued to assault him.

His mama’s cold, lifeless eyes that stared straight ahead no matter how hard he shook her, no matter how much he begged her to wake up. His papa’s laboured, wheezing breaths as he lay in the cot at the makeshift hospital that had been set up during the worst of the Omnic war. Himself, attending the memorial held in honor of victims of the crisis in La Presa, Texas, all alone because he had no one left to attend with him.

A strangled noise tore its way out of Cole’s throat, despite his attempts to quiet it. “S--sorry,” he whispered, keenly aware of Reyes’ presence beside him. Keenly aware of the fact that he was making a fool of himself in front of his boss, his commanding officer. 

“It’s okay, Kid. You’re okay,” Reyes said, wrapping his arm around Cole’s shoulders, guiding him away from the factory. Cole let himself be pulled along, following Reyes’ lead in a haze, still struggling against the emotions, the memories, everything that was trying its best to overwhelm him. 

They ended up in an Overwatch mission van, Reyes in the driver's seat and Cole in the passenger’s. For a few seconds, there was silence, save for the sound of Cole’s heaving breaths. The quiet was broken by the revving of the engine as Reyes started up the car.

Cole wasn’t sure where they were going, and he wasn’t brave enough to ask. His best guess involved Overwatch headquarters, where he was sure to get punished for running off in the middle of an operation.

That, or Reyes was taking him to a supermax prison, to spend the rest of his days. After all, it had been pretty clear in their agreement that Cole was on thin ice. One wrong move and he’d be out of Blackwatch.

The thought of spending his life in a supermax would normally make him panic, would make him plot an escape, but he just couldn’t muster the energy to deal with it, not when he was so busy trying not to burst into tears.

As Reyes began driving, Cole just stared out the tinted window at passing cars, trying to hide his teary eyes from his boss. Despite his efforts, he was pretty sure Reyes knew what he was hiding.

But he didn’t mention it, which Cole was grateful for. By the time the car slowed, his tears were dry. Looking out the window, he saw that Reyes was taking a turn. He prepared himself to come face to face with a prison he would be dropped off at.

It made him do a double take, even a triple take, when they pulled into a McDonalds’ parking lot. He glanced over to Reyes, whose expression was relaxed. “What do you like on your burgers?” his boss asked.

“Huh?” Cole replied, utterly baffled.

“What do you like on your burgers?” Reyes repeated. “Or are you more of a chicken nugget guy?”

The words did very little to clear up Cole’s confusion. Still, he found himself responding, almost on instinct.  “I like everythin’.”

Reyes nodded. “I’ll be right back.” Then, he got out of the car, leaving Cole even more baffled.

Reyes had… left him? Alone? What was his play?

It was possibly a test, to see if Cole would run away again. Then again, it seemed way too obvious for that to be the answer.

Maybe Reyes was just that confident in his abilities that he didn’t mind Cole getting a chance at running away.

Or maybe he even enjoyed it, chasing Cole down. Giving him a taste of freedom only to snatch it away. That one didn’t seem entirely likely, though. Reyes was efficient and even ruthless at times, but he never struck Cole as cruel.

Hesitantly, Cole reached out for the door handle, jaw dropping when it clicked under his hand and opened the door. It wasn’t even locked? What the hell was Reyes playing at?

Before he could run, though, he saw his boss exit the McDonalds with a paper bag in hand. Cole shut the door as quietly as he could, hoping Reyes hadn’t noticed it ever being open.

He entered the car without a fuss, digging into the bag so he could pass Cole some food. Cole hesitantly reached out, taking the burger from Reyes’ hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten McDonalds.

The burger was greasy and heavily processed, so unlike what he was used to. With Deadlock, he had mostly had stale leftovers and whatever other food they’d been lucky enough to scavenge. Even with Overwatch, the food was annoyingly healthy.

Taking another bite, Cole let his eyes close for just a second, savoring the taste. This was very likely the last good food he’d ever eat. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Reyes asked after a few bites, once again catching Cole off guard.

The food scraped against his suddenly dry throat as Cole swallowed. This was it. This was his last chance to save himself from a life in prison. His chance to make up some excuse that would justify him compromising an entire operation. “I… I’m sorry for runnin’ off, Sir--” 

Reyes was quick to interrupt. “Cassidy, I’m not mad.”

“I really didn’t mean to, uh, ruin your plan, I promise it won’t happen again--”

“Cassidy.”

“I’ll do better, I promise. Please, if you just give me another chance--”

“Cole.” That made Cassidy shut up. Gabriel looked at him, eyebrows drawn into a crease. “I’m not mad. I’m worried.”

Cole… didn’t know what to do with that. “Uhm…”

Reyes let out a deep sigh, staring Cole down with an intensity that made his shift in his seat. “I know this is hard to understand, but I’m not… this isn’t Deadlock, kid. I’m not gonna toss you out for a single mistake,” he said.

Cole felt his skin prickle, as it did every time Deadlock was brought up. The urge to defend them and condemn them waged war in his mind, and he was left unsure which action he should take. After all, they gave him a home, they gave him food, they even gave him something like a family.

But they also gave him an overwhelming sense of fear whenever they were brought up. It was disconcerting.

“I… I know that, Sir.”

“Do you? Because it doesn’t seem like it,” Gabriel said. “Cole, I need you to work with me here. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

That was something Cole had been hearing a lot lately. From doctors, from Captain Amari, hell, even Strike Commander Morrison had been getting in on the action. But Reyes hadn’t said it until today. “I… why would you want to help me?”

Something shifted in his commander’s face at his words. “Because you’re a kid,” he said, holding up his hand to stop Cole’s objection. “Don’t deny it. You’re a kid, and a good one at that. You didn’t deserve half the shit that you’ve been through.”

“I…” he trailed off, coming up short in his search for a response. It had been so long since anyone had said anything halfway kind to him.

“Look, Cole, I know your life has been hell. All I’m doing is trying to show you that things can get better. You can have people who care about you, people who want to help you.” Reyes was looking at him intensely. 

“And you wanna be one of those people?” Cole could hear the disbelief in his tone, but Reyes didn’t appear put-off.

“Yeah, I do. But I can’t if you won’t let me.”

Cole played around with those words in his mind. Reyes… didn’t usually get emotional when talking to his underlings, at least not within work hours, but Cole could clearly see the sincerity in his face. A part of his mind, twisted from his past experience, kept insisting that it was a trick.

But there was another part of his mind, growing and hopeful, that said maybe, just maybe, Reyes really wanted to help him. And, for the first time since he was a child, he listened to it. “I used to live there,” Cole admitted, closing his eyes as his childhood home came into focus in his mind.

“At the factory?”

“Before the factory existed. It was my home, during my childhood.” Cole paused, waiting for Reyes to interrupt. When he didn’t, Cole continued. “My Mama and Papa raised me there. Before they… before they died.” The admission hung in the air, heavy and cloying. “And I know it’s stupid, but I thought-- I don’t know what I thought. I just…”

Reyes continued for him when he didn't finish. “You just needed to see it.”

Tears raced to Cole’s still-closed eyes. “Yeah,” he said, voice thick. “I just needed to see it.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. That… that’s really shitty.”

A wet chuckle sprung out of Cole. “Kinda, yeah,” he agreed, wiping at his teary eyes.

Silence filled the car for a few more moments, though not uncomfortably. Reyes seemed content to just let Cole have a minute to feel miserable.

Somehow, though, when his eyes dried up, Cole felt better. Not perfect, not even good. But better. “Thank you. For listening,” he said, resting his head back on the headrest. 

“Anytime, Kid. I mean it. You ever need to talk, you can come to me.”

Cole didn’t know if he’d ever be brave enough to take Reyes up on that offer, but having the option was relieving, if only a little. “Thanks, boss,” he mumbled, a small smile gracing his lips.

“You got it, kid.”

December 8th, 2071

Cole Cassidy never liked the cold. It was downright awful, in his opinion. Nothing good had ever come from it.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. A memory floated into Cole’s mind, one of a Christmas spent with his Mama and Papa. There had been a town celebration, and almost everyone from the tiny town of La Presa had gathered together and had a very merry Christmas. Cole had gorged himself on candy and hot cocoa, while his parents watched fondly.

“Shut up,” Cole mumbled to himself, shaking his head as if that would dislodge the memory. He didn’t need to think about that.

What he did need to think about was where he was going to stay for the night. It was too cold to sleep outside, like he normally did, but he was running low on funds, and motels were expensive.

So Cole kept walking along the street, having lost track of where exactly he was. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t exactly staying anywhere. Just… drifting, looking for the next job.

Just like he did as a teenager.

“Shut up,” Cole repeated when more memories flew into his mind, this time of his years spent as a street kid. That wasn’t important, either.

All that was important, he repeated to himself, was finding a place to get some shut-eye. That was it. There was no need for cumbersome memories or painful recollections. “Okay, think. Somewhere warm. Or, at least, somewhere not below freezin’.” 

But all the buildings along the streets were boarded up tightly, trying to prevent drifters like him from finding a rest. A scowl worked its way onto Cole’s face, not that anyone could see it. His serape was wrapped around his face up to his nose, and his cowboy hat was bathing the rest of his face in shadows. 

Besides, even if his expression was clear to see, no one would be paying enough attention to notice it. The streets of this small, dirty town, which Cole couldn’t remember the name of, were filled with people just like him, and people like him didn’t have time to pay attention to anyone but themselves. 

Which was good, because if anyone spared him a second glance, they would surely notice that he was the outlaw with a multi-million dollar bounty on his head. And although Cole was confident in his abilities to take most anyone in a fight, he didn’t want to. Not right then.

All he wanted to do was find a damn place to sleep.

But maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this would be the end of Cole Cassidy. Maybe he would be killed by the cold, of all things. 

What a way to end his life. Anti-climatic and freezing. A perfect fit.

For the third time that evening, a memory crossed his mind. His father, helping him try on different shoes. “Look, Cole,” he had said when they finally found a pair that worked. “It’s a perfect fit!”

It was an odd memory to keep in his mind. Cole didn’t understand why some things were so crystal clear, while other, far more important things, were simply gone.

But, he thought to himself, none of that mattered . The insistence had lost meaning with how many times he had said it, but he would keep repeating it until it stuck. Or until he died of the cold. Whichever came first.

A muffled noise cut off his thoughts. Cole’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he tried to find the source. It sounded like a scream.

It happened again, and this time, he was paying enough attention to be able to locate it. A dark, threatening alleyway. Cole paused in front of it. He really should just keep on walking. He had no obligation to help whoever it was that needed it.

And yet, he knew he would.

Cole quietly crept into the alley, unholstering his gun as he strained his eyes to see what was causing the commotion.

“Shut up, and open that purse of yours,” a man was whispering. Cole could just make out his silhouette. In front of him, with a hand over her mouth and a gun pressed to her head was an old woman, who was trembling violently. Cole approached, years of military training allowing him to be perfectly silent.

Just as the old lady was opening her purse with shaking hands, Cole wrenched the gun away from her head and punched the mugger in his nose.  He let out an undignified shout as the gun clattered to the floor, thankfully not misfiring. “What the--?”

“You best be goin’ now,” Cole said, tone unyielding. “And I better not catch you doin’ this again, y’hear?”

The robber looked about ready to object, but then Cole flashed his gun. Seeing he was outskilled, he booked it, practically tripping over his feet in his urgency. Cole stared after him until he was sure he was gone.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Ma’am,” he said, turning back to the old lady, who was standing there, watching him with wide eyes. “You oughta be gettin’ home. It ain’t safe ‘round these parts.” As he spoke, he picked up the gun from the ground, examining it. It was a few years old, its wear far from unnoticeable.

“You… saved me?” The old lady’s voice was high-pitched with shock. 

Cole shrugged, unloading the gun and pocketing it. Always nice to have a backup. “Don’t mention it.”

“Cole Cassidy just saved my life,” she said. Cole froze. He was hoping she hadn’t caught on to his identity.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Think you can keep that bit quiet?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically. She was sure to call the authorities, meaning he had to get out of town. Quick.

 The woman regarded him, clasping her purse tightly in her hands. “I… why?”

“‘Cause I don’t much fancy bein’ chased down by blood-hungry police.”

“N-no. Why did you save me?” That gave Cole pause. 

Another memory flashed through his brain. His Mama, storming into his school the first time he got detention for standing up for a little kid who was being bullied. The bullies hadn’t much appreciated him intervening, and had given him a black eye for his troubles. 

As a result, everyone involved in the fight had gotten detention.

His Mama had been furious at the principal for punishing Cole, and although she hadn’t been able to get him out of detention, when he got home, she had given him a tight hug and taken him out for ice cream. “You did the right thing, Cole. I’m proud of you,” she had said. 

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Cole told the old lady after some time.

She considers that for a moment. “I thought you were a criminal.”

“I am,” Cole agrees, beginning to walk away. He needed to skip town sooner rather than later. There was no telling when this woman would get tired of conversation and begin to call the authorities. Cole did not intend to be there when that happened. 

“Wait!” she called out, causing him to freeze. “Can you walk me home? You were right about this area not being safe.”

For lack of a better term, Cole short circuited. “You… want me to walk you home?” he asked, turning to face her with an incredulous expression.

“I do,” the woman agreed.

“I’ve got a million dollar bounty on my head,” Cole said, trying to figure out if it was a trap.

The woman shrugged. “You saved me. That has to count for something.” She began to walk out the alley, leaving Cole behind, still too surprised to function. “Are you coming?”

He considered his options. On the one hand, this would be a really stupid trap to fall for. But on the other hand… she was asking for his help, and he couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, especially after her already having been mugged once.

“O...kay then,” Cole said, following the old woman out the alley. “Lead the way, Ma’am.”

On his walk to the old lady’s house, Cole learned several things. Firstly, he learned that her name was Mally. Second, he learned that she talked. A lot. Whether that was a natural part of her or something she did when she was nervous was unclear. What was clear was that she had no qualms filling up Cole’s silence with friendly conversation.

Cole wasn’t sure whether to trust her or not. She seemed… too nice.

Maybe that was just his paranoia talking, though.

“Home sweet home,” she announced after a few minutes of walking. They were in front of a dingy apartment building. Cole nodded, giving her a small smile.

“Well, have a good day, Miss Mally,” he said, tipping his hat toward her. He began to turn away.

“Wait,” Mally said, and when Cole turned back to face her, she was rifling in her purse. She pulled out her wallet, before quickly grabbing a few bills. “Take this.”

If Cole were a better man, he would’ve denied any payment. After all, Mally wasn’t in the best financial situation, if where she lived was anything to go by. But… he needed a place to sleep, and she was offering.

Still, he hesitated before reaching out for the money. “You’re sure?”

Mally smiled kindly, wrinkles deepening. “Of course. Get yourself somewhere warm to sleep,” she told him.

Cole nodded, pocketing the bills. “Alright. Goodnight, Miss Mally.”

“Goodnight.” She sent him one last smile before unlocking the door to the apartment and entering. Cole stared after her for a few moments.

His Mama would probably have been like that, had she still been alive.

The thought caused ice to spread through his veins. He shivered, pulling his serape tighter around himself, hoping to chase off the cold. His Mama wasn’t alive. No amount of missing her was going to change that, so what was the point of it?

Trying to forget about the encounter, Cole made his way to the nearest motel, counting the bills he had gotten from Mally. All together they added up to $95, more than enough for a night or two at a dingy motel. 

The thought was relieving. He didn’t want to die stranded in the cold. In his opinion, there was no fate worse than that.

So he made his merry way to the nearest motel, which was luckily just a few blocks away. The building didn’t look particularly comforting, but it did look sturdy, which was the best Cole could ask for. 

He quickly paid for the cheapest room available, relieved that the front desk boy was too tired and overworked to recognise him. The whole place smelled of mold and musk, but Cole had been to worse places. So he sucked it up and made it to his room, settling down on the dinky bed.

The sheets were tattered, the springs were poking into his back, and there was no blanket, but he still fell asleep almost instantly. The last thing he thought of before he fell into unconsciousness was his parents. Everything from their warm smiles to their deaths flashed through his mind. He frowned, but didn’t have time to distract himself before he was sound asleep.

In the morning he would once again shake the thoughts from his head, would try to ignore the homesickness burning in him, would try to focus on survival instead of sentimentality.

But that night, he couldn’t stop the dreams of his parents from invading his mind, filling him with a deep feeling of loneliness.

September 20th, 2075

“Hey, Darlin’,” Cole called out when he heard the front door open.

“Hola, Vaquero,” Sombra replied. Cole frowned, looking up from the tablet he was scrolling through. She sounded… hesitant. Unsure, almost. It was so unlike Sombra to be anything but wildly confident that he felt a spike of worry shoot through him.

“You okay?” he asked, watching her closely as she stepped into the living room. His apprehension was not helped by the fact that she was clearly hiding something behind her back, nor by the way she was chewing on her lip. 

“Yeah,” she said, not elaborating any further. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she approached him until she was standing in front of his position lounging on the couch. There were a few seconds of silence. Cole’s concern increased.

He was left wondering if he should act on his worry or leave her be. On the one hand, he wanted to help her, to try and fix whatever was clearly bothering her. Then again, he didn’t want to overstep. She got prickly sometimes, when he tried to look out for her too much. No matter how many times he assured her that he was doing it because he cared, he knew it could come off like he didn’t believe in her capabilities.

He wasn’t left in the dilemma for long, though, because after a few seconds of silence, Sombra seemed to snap out of her trance. “I got this. For you. If you want it.” As she spoke, she revealed what she was hiding behind her back, holding out an old, worn piece of fabric.

Freezing in place, Cole stared at what Sombra held in her hand. He sucked in a breath, holding the air in his chest until it started to burn.

It was a cross stitch. The one his Mama made for him, right before she died. The design was relatively simple, compared to some of her other works, just a small, toy-like bear with a cowboy hat. On the bottom left corner, the words ‘For Cole, my darling son,” were embroidered in a deep red.

Cole sat up, ever so hesitantly reaching out, delicately taking hold of the fabric. The colors had faded from age, and some of the stitches were fraying, as were the edges. Cole couldn’t rip his eyes away from it. The last time he had seen this cross stitch was before he joined Blackwatch. Back in his Deadlock days, it was the last thing he had of his Mama. Once he left, he thought he’d never see it again.

“How…” he trailed off, trailing his thumb gently over the stitches. It was so small, so delicate in his hands. “How did you…”

“I pulled in a few favors from your old friends. Turns out they kept some of your stuff,” Sombra replied. Cole finally tore his eyes away from the fabric to stare at her. He opened and closed his mouth several times, no words coming to him.

She clenched her jaw, shifting ever-so-slightly under his intense stare. “I didn’t… I’m…” The words were quiet, unsure. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” she eventually managed, observing his reaction carefully.

“No, you didn’t… You…” Cole paused, taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts. It was hard, though, as he couldn’t seem to think through the waves of emotions that were drowning him. “ Thank you , Sombra. This-- This is… more than I could’ve ever asked for. Thank you .”

Sombra’s shoulders slumped slightly, and her fists uncurled. “It’s nothing, Vaquero .”

Cole shook his head, reaching out to take her hand in his. “No, Sombra, it’s not ‘ nothing ’. This is… Thank you .”

A small smile spread across Sombra’s purple painted lips. “You already said that,” she noted, intertwining their fingers. The grin that spread over Cole’s face was involuntary. 

“And I’ll say it a million more times, Darlin’.” As he spoke, he gently tugged her hand towards him, a silent plea for her to sit with him. 

She obliged, settling down onto the couch and tucking herself under his outstretched arm. “You’re a sap,” she mumbled, curling up as close to him as she could.

Cole had half-a-mind to tell her that she was the one pulling in valuable favors just to provide him with the last piece of his childhood, but the words died on his tongue as he looked at her, resting securely against him. “I love you,” is what he said instead, trying to infuse as much sincerity as possible into his tone.

Sombra paused, her gaze meeting his. “ Yo también te amo ,” she replied. A soft smile lit up Cole’s face, crinkling the corners of his honey brown eyes. Sombra matched his expression, reaching up to give him a quick peck. 

Cole pulled her in close to try and elongate the kiss, whining when she pulled away. Sombra laughed, booping his nose. “Relax, Vaquero. I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him, tucking herself into his side. 

He smiled, adjusting his arm so it wrapped more securely around her. Although she hadn’t meant anything by her words, they still meant the world to Cole.

Because they were true: Sombra wasn’t going anywhere. She was by his side, through thick and thin. He had no doubt that she would do anything for him, anything at all. He would never ask her to, of course, but she would do it anyway, because they loved one another. Because they had found a home in each other, something that both of them had been deprived of for so long.

And although Cole would never forget his old home, although he would always have that bit of homesickness in his veins, he also knew that he wouldn’t trade what he had with Sombra for anything.

“I think my parents would’a loved you,” he said, somewhat randomly, after the lull in their conversation had lasted for a few seconds.

“I’m not the kind of girl parents love,” Sombra replied. Her voice seemed strained. 

Cole frowned. “Well, they should. And my parents would’ve adored you.”

“You really think so?” she asked, looking up at him. The hopefulness in her face hardened Cole’s already strong resolve.

“Yeah. I do.”

Sombra’s smile was bittersweet. “I think I would’ve liked them, too,” she said.

Cole sighed wistfully. “Y’all would’a had a blast embarrassing me, I’ll tell you that much.” He could picture it perfectly, his parents pulling out his baby photos and filling Sombra in on all kinds of embarrassing stories. The feeling it elicited was… strange. It wasn’t homesickness, not like Cole had experienced so many times before.

Rather than sadness and pain, the feeling was closer to a bittersweet acceptance.

His parents were gone, and they wouldn’t ever come back. Cole would always miss them,  of course. He would miss them desperately, with everything he had. 

But, at the same time, he knew they would be happy for him. He had found a home, had found contentment, had found Sombra. Despite all the odds, he had made a life for himself, one he loved.

And knowing that, if they were alive, he would have his parents blessing, Cole smiled. Settled back into the couch, and held Sombra close. Pressed a kiss to her hair. Let himself relax. 

This was his home, now, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.