Bad Name (McCree X Reader)

Chapter 20: Sombra

"I feel like we've met before." You squint at the woman. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"We may have met before. Who knows." She snaps her fingers. "Otra cerveza, por favor."
The bartender brings her an ice cold bottle of beer, which she opens and takes a sip.
"Well... Who are you?" You throw your head back and let a tequila shot slide down your throat.
"Call me Sombra. And you are?"
Sounds like a fake name, you should come up with one, too.
"I'm Shannon. Nice to meet you." You hold your hand out to Sombra and she shakes it. You grab another shot glass and slide it over to her.
"Aw, you shouldn't have." Sombra snickers as she downs the glass. "Now, you look upset. Wanna talk about it?"
You comb your matted hair back. "How can you tell?" You and Sombra share a laugh before she moves to the barstool next to you. You open up to her, while lying about certain details. "Last night, my boyfriend got hit by a car while proposing to me. I also got shot in the chest."
"Damn." Sombra's eyes widen. "Gang-related?"
"I assume so," you lie, "we were in a pretty bad part of town. I'm okay, but J—"
You nearly smack yourself to stop yourself from saying Jesse's name. Sombra leans in and squints at you.
"...what did you say his name was?"
"Joel!" You blurt out. "Joel is in the hospital. He's not doing so good..."
"So you came here to drink your stress away?" Sombra rests her elbow on the bar, reaching for another shot glass.
"How'd you know?" You let out something that sounds like half a laugh, half an exhausted sigh.
"I feel you, Shannon." She raises her glass up to you.
"Cheers to that, motherfooker." You toast with her before simultaneously taking your shots.
About an hour into hanging out with your new drinking buddy, Sombra is completely plastered. You two end up laughing and singing old songs. At one point, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone.
"Listen, chica," Sombra hiccups, "I like you. Joel is a lucky man to have a girl like you. Now you go home, get some rest, and go see your man at the hospital."
"You're right." You stand up from the barstool. "Oi, you gonna get home alright? You're plastered."
"Eh, I called an Uber. Should be here any minute." Sombra grabs a napkin and scribbles something on it with a purple pen. "Text me when you're stressed."
You take the napkin and stuff it in your pocket before giving Sombra a hug. Looking back, you leave the bar and start walking back to HQ. On your way back, you stop by a few stores to pick up things for Jesse.
Under the cover of darkness, you slip into the elevator and make your way up the mountain face. Your relieved sigh is stifled all of a sudden.
"Moonlight, you're outside of headquarters after curfew," Athena's voice rings out.
"Shhhhh!!!" You whisper-shout. "You'll wake everyone up! I was just buying some things for Jesse..."
"Your blood-alcohol level is 0.13%," Athena states.
You sigh. "Can you keep this between us, please? Just this once..."
Athena pauses, as if thinking about it. "Just this once. I'll keep the lights off."
You smile and sigh. "Thank you so, so much." You hold your bags to your chest. "Oh, and how is Jesse doing?"
"McCree's average heart rate has dropped from 51 beats per minute to 43 beats per minute in the past hour." Athena, somewhere in her voice, sounds almost... sad. "He developed a fever of 40.5° Celsius three hours ago. His condition is worsening. His prognosis is... poor. He... may not survive. "
Your happiness fades as you look down at your feet. All of a sudden, you feel absolutely nothing. Sobered. Empty. Numb. Silently, you exit the elevator and walk into HQ. Approaching the hospital wing, you don't even flinch when the hallway light turns on.
"Moonlight, it's after curfew. Where have you been?" Jack's voice echoes from behind you. "Answer me."
You don't respond, turn to face him, or even stop. You just keep walking, as if he was never there. You hear Jack's footsteps follow you, only to be cut off by you shutting the door of Jesse's hospital room. The room is dark, lit dimly by heart monitors and other devices. You walk around the room and place thing around the room. Flowers, balloons, comic books, cards, and photos adorn the walls and tables. Letting out a long sigh, you squeeze yourself into Jesse's bed. The heat of his fever radiates off his skin as you wrap your arms around him and listen to his slow, deep, pained breathing. You weave around the countless tubes and wires to get comfortable. You close your eyes and attempt to fall asleep, but your quiet crying keeps you up all night.