I am wondering. [He confirms, more harshly blurted than he would have liked. A softer correction soon follows. ] Have been wonderin'. [Not really a correction.
Betty Sue marches on, each hoof carrying the passing moments of silence with a heavy weight. McCree was wondering a lot of things about Jack and 76 and the man and the times that passed in-between. It's not like he doesn't know that time and hardships change people--he's seen it plenty with his own eyes, but it's another sight to behold when it's a such a dramatic change with Jack, and furthermore to be on the receiving end of that unfettered violence, even if for just a moment.
The more McCree wonders the more he thinks he should stop wondering, a tarry sad acceptance of pity ruling his gut. It's sad. Just plain fucking sad and not a damn thing he could have done about it. He was helpless to see Overwatch crack and crumble, helpless to watch his former comrades and mentor figures die or disappear one by one, or worse, helpless to think the worst of them found themselves in an organization like Talon.
Any more he wonders about it he'll start wondering that the hell he's doing with himself--why he bothers to fight the good fight and keep his morals morals--but that's the line he always finds and backs away from with solid resolve. If, after all the things he's lost and was forced to lose, all he had left, like hell he was going to let anyone, lest of all himself, sabotage.
Jack seems to have crossed that line somewhere between then and now. It's sad. Makes him angry because whatever Jack lost of himself McCree continues to carry on in his virtues.]
Makes us even. [He wonders why he bothers to still feel guilty for smashing his visor when he just smashed his wrist in kind.] Just not in a good way.
I'll help you get your visor back. [If he's not doing it for 76's sake, he's doing it with boyscout Jack in mind.]
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Betty Sue marches on, each hoof carrying the passing moments of silence with a heavy weight. McCree was wondering a lot of things about Jack and 76 and the man and the times that passed in-between. It's not like he doesn't know that time and hardships change people--he's seen it plenty with his own eyes, but it's another sight to behold when it's a such a dramatic change with Jack, and furthermore to be on the receiving end of that unfettered violence, even if for just a moment.
The more McCree wonders the more he thinks he should stop wondering, a tarry sad acceptance of pity ruling his gut. It's sad. Just plain fucking sad and not a damn thing he could have done about it. He was helpless to see Overwatch crack and crumble, helpless to watch his former comrades and mentor figures die or disappear one by one, or worse, helpless to think the worst of them found themselves in an organization like Talon.
Any more he wonders about it he'll start wondering that the hell he's doing with himself--why he bothers to fight the good fight and keep his morals morals--but that's the line he always finds and backs away from with solid resolve. If, after all the things he's lost and was forced to lose, all he had left, like hell he was going to let anyone, lest of all himself, sabotage.
Jack seems to have crossed that line somewhere between then and now. It's sad. Makes him angry because whatever Jack lost of himself McCree continues to carry on in his virtues.]
Makes us even. [He wonders why he bothers to still feel guilty for smashing his visor when he just smashed his wrist in kind.] Just not in a good way.
I'll help you get your visor back. [If he's not doing it for 76's sake, he's doing it with boyscout Jack in mind.]