Let Your Heart Come Home to Me - McHanzo

Let Your Heart Come Home to Me

It was 1:26 in the morning. Nobody was awake aside from Winston and I. He, like me, was waiting. Unlike me, he was waiting for some kind of communication from the mission. I was anxiously waiting for my husband to return. The one and only Jesse McCree Shimada.

"Mr. Shimada, I suggest you let this go," he huffed, "Since they were ambushed, we've had no signal from anyone. We don't even know if they made it-" He explained, trying to confide in me. I stood up abruptly, sending my stool hurdling behind me.

"I will not! My husband is on that mission, there is no way of reaching them at all, and you're expecting me to simply 'let this go'?" I looked him dead in the eye. His gaze was fleeting and evasive. He turned away from me and scoffed, almost selfishly. "You seem as if you don't even care."

I felt my eyes become misty. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My bottom lip trembled. My posture crumpled, losing all sense of dignity. Stifling my gasps and weeps, I started to hiccough. Winston clambered over to me, clearly concerned.

"Mr. Shimada," the scientist sighed, "I'm sorry you think this way. I care immensely, but there is nothing you can do but wait. I'm trying my hardest." He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"You don't understand." I ducked away from his touch. My entire body shook and became weak. Breathing itself became difficult. My tears were relentless. My quaking hand opened the door to my empty, two-person dorm in the Overwatch building. I made my way to our shared bed and collapsed.

If they don't return in the next four hours, they probably didn't survive, Winston's grim voice echoed through my mind. He told me that four hours ago. My chest felt like it was caving in. I turned my gaze toward the digital clock. It almost taunted me as it read 2:01 AM. My feelings only worsened, knowing that I should try to do something to get my Jesse back. But the pain was crippling and I was paralyzed.

I lied there for what felt like eons, staring at the golden band on my finger as I wept. I reminisced of when Jesse slid it on to my finger the day we got married. Remembering moments like that brought me a painful joy.

Moments like that were like staring into complete darkness. You know what you have and what you don't. But you don't know what else may have been conjured into existence while you stare, which could either be beautiful or horrifying. All I hoped for what was waiting for me in the dark was Jesse. He was my light. Even if I punched out his light, he'd always come around again.

I didn't want to know what lingered in this darkness. Thus, anxiety is formed. I embraced it for what it was and tried to sleep. It was the only way I could escape that awful, broken-hearted sensation. I was grateful for the sleep once it arrived. I didn't have to face the heart wrenching feeling while I was asleep.

But I woke again to the darkness. The unknown. 3:17 AM. Goddammit, I thought. I sat up in bed just to look around and fall down again in pathetic tears. I curled up on my side, hugging his pillow to my chest, hoping it would soothe the pain that lurked there.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I thought I was imagining things, attempting to make myself feel better. In spite of it, it allowed hope to grow in me. I pushed myself off of the bed, tearing myself away from the comfort of Jesse's pillow. I trudged toward the source of the noise.

Winston stood at the doorway. All the vestigial hope that had built up died. He looked at me with gentle eyes. He broke eye contact as he pushed up his glasses. He sighed like he did several hours ago.

"Some have returned from the mission," he grunted. My eyes widened. I was going to make my way around him but then he motioned me to stay. He gulped before he broke the last bit of the news. "And a few haven't, and Jesse is part of that few."