Never Let Me Go (A McHanzo Fanfic)

A Ring in the Air

Hey yo y'all!!! How's it goin?

Thanks for all the wonderful support I've gottn on this book. It's almost ending, maybe 2-3 chapters, and I hope you'll still join me in this journey til then. May your year end with a bang!

*Looks at Junkrat* No.

Ok, let's go! Sorry if it's too long!

Don't forget to vote, loves! :*

Three days after he had been subdued by the forces of the magistrate, Hanzo found that the towering grief in his heart had waned, and his tired bloodshot eyes had ceased their steady flow of tears. In the end the siren was robbed of all strength, and he sat there limply, with only the borders of his confines keeping him sitting upright. Below his ashen face was the woven basket Preacher had brought in some time ago, a vessel to collect the pearls that would form from the merman's tears.

And at the moment the once empty hollow was filled to the brim with dozens and dozens of the precious pearls, each having its own luster and size. Some lacked that perfect white glow, while others could put a clean elephant ivory to shame. Some came in smaller spheres, bigger spheres, while others were baffling to look at with their uneven, asymmetrical shapes.

But to the magistrate the differences were trivial, and they all screamed one common denotement: money.

Money that he'd use to further expand his wealth, to better his already principled reputation.

Is that not how one wins in life? To have more than all the others? To be able to do as one pleases without having to trouble himself with the woes of tomorrow?

However for the siren, winning would have meant being able to peacefully at night, with the lingering knowledge that Jesse was safe, sailing the blanket of rigorous ocean waves and starting over with his mates in the warmer coasts the pirate used to voyage to a long time back in their years of excursions and lucrative crimes. It was a paradise away from Preacher, away from the noose, away from England if the gods permit it possible.

Away from any misfortune.

Oh, Hanzo could picture it clearly, even as his languid being nearly refused to keep him upright, let alone provide the strength to keep his eyes open.

He pictured Jesse, standing on The Huckleberry's bow, just behind the golden figurehead, with the salty wind blowing his hair back, drying the sweat on his face. But his face--it had the glow brought upon by a smile, a genuine smile that spoke for the usually jolly soul that McCree carried everywhere with him--even in the middle of a gun battle.

It was one of the attributes that led Hanzo to fall for the man; it was one of Jesse's more lovable traits after all.

And one of the very things the siren so gravely missed from the captain.

With his hands rendered useless behind his back, all the merman could do was eye the dejected bloody hat that fell outside his confinement in the flurry of the subjugation that happened once Morrison set off the word that the captive had finally shed tears.
So for quite a while, it had remained there on the exact same spot, and dust has started to settle down on the leather surface like fine, little gray flakes of pepper and salt.

In a few moments Hanzo knew his fate would be sealed, and once certain that the last of his tears have slipped down to become the precious mineral, the merman began to tick the time away in his head, counting down to when Preacher would finally come in through the narrow entrance to check on him like he always did.