Redemption From Resemblance (McHanzo)

Heat to Heart

A/N: I have done more research for this fanfic than anything else in my life, you have no idea. I swear I get too invested in characters that aren't even real.

And that isn't a typo in the chapter title.

He was warned that because the car they stowed away in was meant for bags that it would be hot, but Hanzo found it starting to become unbearable. Despite the cracks in the doors and leftover holes from bullets that were never fixed, barely any wind made it into the confined space, so there was a definite lack of cool air flow which the archer was starting to desperately hope for. Even with one arm exposed, he was so close to just pushing off the rest of his clothes and having both arms free from the heat of the cloth. What kept him from doing so was the lack of dignity that would come with bearing his chest for the man in front of him to see, even with the minimal amount of light. The elder Shimada only exposed half of himself so the sleeve wouldn't catch on the bowstring and he had no obstructions when summoning his dragons. Despite however many hours of the day he went with only one sleeve, Hanzo wasn't too keen on the idea of showing off everything to other people, acquaintances or not. Besides, he already got unwanted attention for the single pectoral out in the open, so he doesn't want to imagine what would happen if both were visible for everyone to see. One thing he has noticed though, is that the heat also seems to be affecting McCree if the serape currently laying on some suitcases and hat still fanning the cowboy is any indication. Hanzo wonders how he's still fine with the body armor strapped to his person, but remembers McCree once saying something about being from a desert area. He's probably experienced worse heat than this, and Hanzo feels the beginnings of sympathy.

"Mind handin' me one of them drinks ya got? Preferably water." Hanzo's mind comes back to him immediately at the sound of McCree's voice, and he quickly digs into the bag to grab one of the bottles of water (since that was all he grabbed in regards to drinks, not the sugary abomination that is caffeine). The drinks have sadly gotten warmer since his purchase back in the city, but they're still somewhat cool. He hands one to the man in front of him who mutters out a quick thanks and proceeds to take three huge gulps. Hanzo is thankful the gunslinger is aware they need to preserve as much of the supplies as they can, money or not. The more they manage to save on their journey, the better and easier a time they'll have. But now Hanzo is all too aware of the urgent need for something cool on his parched throat, and he finds himself waging war in his mind on whether he should open another bottle so soon or continue waiting. It would be better to conserve what they have no matter how thirsty he gets, but Hanzo is no fool. He'll need to drink at some point or risk fainting from the heat and malnutrition. McCree seems to catch onto that and Hanzo briefly wonders if he can read minds.

"Here. Ya need some of this as well." The man holds out the bottle for the assassin to take, and even with the overwhelming fact that McCree drank from that bottle, Hanzo knows he shouldn't be letting his pride take over right now. He has to drink or face heat stroke on a train. Hanzo takes the bottle, noticing the slight surprise from McCree as he takes a few sips of his own. The water is so very refreshing to him, wetting the dryness in his mouth and cooling his body from the inside. Hanzo doesn't think he's ever found the taste of water so heavenly before, and he has to remember not to moan out in appreciation. He has to will himself to stop before all the water is gone and caps it closed, putting the now half empty bottle back into the bag. Silence falls between them again and Hanzo begins to wonder how long it'll be before night falls. It'll thankfully get a bit cooler and he won't have the threat of being cooked alive inside the car looming over his head again until another twelve hours once the sun goes down. Who knows, maybe they'll get rained on instead and he can actually be grateful for being locked inside a train car instead of cursing whoever thought that not all cars need to have air circulation. Until then, Hanzo has to deal with the heat, the loud rumbling of the train, and the sharp edges of someone else's belongings digging into his back with his quiver adding to the irritation. Why has he not taken if off?