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clareguilty · 3 years ago

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Food for the Heart

My first July commission fic! Thanku to Chip for helping look things over <3 Soldier 76 & Reaper & Jesse McCree & F!Reader Rating: General | Pre-Fall of Overwatch, fluff Word Count: ~3500

Sometimes -- if you thought about it -- the fact that you had some of the highest security clearance in the entirety of the UN, as well as several major militaries, could make your palms sweat and your heart pound. Imposter syndrome sure was a bitch.

You would look out on all of the heroes and saviors and geniuses of the world, unsure of how you managed to fit in and even sit at the same table as Director Petras and Strike Commander Morrison himself.

People wouldn’t stop in the halls to salute you or turn to you for input. Many of your colleagues didn’t even seem to know your name. You were nothing but background to them, just the hand that delivered documents or typed along to broadcasts. It was enough to trick you into believing you didn’t belong.

But there was a reason you were sat at the table with the most influential people in the world. There was a reason that your office was in the same wing as the other heroes of Overwatch. And you had earned your place there -- a fact you had to remind yourself of over and over again as Commander Reyes and Commander Morrison swept by your desk every morning or as Captain Amari chatted with Lieutenant Wilhelm within earshot of your workspace. Occasionally, you would even come back from lunch to find that a cowboy and a ninja had commandeered your desktop and your office chair, respectively.

You were invisible to them. Silent and unassuming. Blending in so seamlessly to the environment that they didn’t seem to notice you were there -- which is how you heard everything. Listening was your job, after all. You were a linguist, responsible for interpreting and translating any documents or meetings or broadcasts that passed through the upper command chain. You had access to the highest security channels, writing down field notes and debriefs for anyone on base who needed them.

Fluent in 14 human languages and 3 Omnic communication systems, you were one of the most valuable assets Overwatch had. Your work during the crisis had earned you a rank and pension that looked like a mistake on all your paperwork. Surely someone as plain as you couldn’t be that powerful?

And the work hadn’t finished after the crisis. You had been swept along into the ranks and shipped off to Zurich to spend your days listening to every piece of information that needed your ears.

And you heard everything.

You heard Captain Amari talking about her daughter and Lieutenant Wilhelm lamenting his losses on the battlefield, Jesse McCree joking and ribbing with Agent Shimada, who barely ever responded when you were within earshot. You overheard Strike Commander Morrison laughing with his friends and hurling orders and sighing over paperwork, Commander Reyes growling and grumbling and occasionally giving a full-bellied laugh when someone made a fool of themselves.

But no one ever seemed to speak directly to you unless they were requesting something or saying thank you. Your days were spent surrounded by people who would lay down their lives for one another but didn’t even seem to notice as you came and went.

It was certainly lonely, being in an unfamiliar country on a foreign base, working long hours in the fruitless business of world peace. You would return to your tiny apartment in the evenings -- luxurious, but small -- and try and make the most of your life of prestige and success and heroism. You had made the space cozy and perfect since you found yourself with more money than you knew what to do with. Your family had retired to one of the nicest homes you could buy them, and you still couldn’t get rid of the stuff.

So you spent your evenings cooking and baking exquisite dishes with expensive ingredients. You had gotten rather good at it. Any time someone on base mentioned a dish that they liked, you made sure to jot it down for later. Every night you indulged in food from all over the world that you had made with your own two hands.

But you found yourself with a lot of leftovers.

You were all alone in Zurich, with just a few friends in other parts of the organization that you only got to see when the stars were perfectly aligned. There was no way you could eat all this food.

So you started leaving gifts for the high command.

Strike Commander Morrison was the one who had given you the idea to make the pie in the first place. He had complained about how much he missed the sweet from his hometown, and you had found a recipe that sounded like what he described.

You wrapped a few slices up as nicely as you could and slipped them onto his desk just before he came in one morning.

The only thing you hadn’t counted on was just how invisible you truly were.

Commander Morrison made a sound of surprise when he saw the sparkling clear wrapping paper and curled ribbons. He poked his head out of his office and glanced around. No one else had come in yet, and you were already hard at work transcribing some Omnic signals that had been intercepted.

He asked Captain Amari about it when she arrived a few minutes later.

“You can’t trust random packages that appear on your desk, Jack. You should have reported a security breach immediately. Where is it? We’ll have to send it down for examination.”

Commander Morrison looked sheepish. “I ate them already.”

Captain Amari whacked him upside the head.

“I skipped breakfast!” he whined. “And it was absolutely delicious. It tasted just like home.”

Hearing those words was enough. You didn’t care that the Strike Commander was a fool who didn’t seem to notice your presence. He had enjoyed your treat, and that was all the reward you needed.

You continued to leave sweets for the high command whenever you could. You were sure at some point they would realize it was you, but they never said anything.

Cookies. Sweet breads. Cakes. Candied fruits. Pastries. You were improving as a baker at an alarming rate, considering you had nothing to do in your free time but replicate the recipes all the soldiers on base missed from back home.

The Strike Commander, Lieutenant Wilhelm, and Agent McCree were the most shameless about indulging in your gifts. The other captains and officers partook as well. You had never even seen Agent Shimada eat, though he would gently wrap a small portion to take back to his quarters, and Torbjorn would always wrinkle his nose and scoff at the sweets, but you didn’t miss him slipping a few into his pockets for later.

Despite how much you were making and sharing, there was one person whom you never got the chance to cook for. Everyone else had mentioned a dessert offhand at some point or another, only to find the exact treat waiting for them the next day. Even Agent Shimada had mentioned a fluffy cheesecake once, though he took his portion back to his quarters to eat it. Only one person eluded your gifts, and you were patiently waiting for the opportunity to strike.

You were up to your neck in transcriptions when you finally got your chance. Something you could cook for Commander Reyes.

It was just him, Agent McCree, and the Strike Commander. You were tucked away at your desk as always, invisible to everyone but listening attentively.

“Can’t believe I was in Mexico for a week and spent the whole time camped out in the jungle. I would have killed somebody for a good churro.” Commander Reyes grumbled.

“You did kill people, boss. A lot of people.” Agent McCree had his boots on the table and was grinning around an unlit cigarillo.

“You watch your mouth,” the commander snapped, but his shoulders shook with laughter.

Churros. Authentic Mexican churros. You could certainly do your best to make some and leave them for the Blackwatch commander.

It only took a few tries to get them how you wanted them, and you strolled into the high command offices the following day with a beautifully wrapped box.

Commander Reyes didn’t have a desk in the command wing, but you knew he would be by early. You left the box on the same table Agent McCree was sitting at yesterday and got to work while you waited for everyone else to arrive.

Commander Morrison lit up in excitement when he saw the enormous box waiting on the table, but, after a peek inside, he realized who the sweets were for and didn’t take any. It would have been fine. You had made plenty enough for everyone.

Captain Amari wasn’t as enthusiastic as the Strike Commander, but she let her curiosity get the best of her and gently pried open the box as well. She smirked, and you could have sworn you saw her glance your way, but you were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as you listened to a diplomatic summit presentation.

At last, Commander Reyes made his appearance. He didn’t hesitate to go straight for the box on the table, lifting the lid and inspecting the contents with an impassive expression. He was completely unreadable as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

Delicately, he lifted one of the churros out of the box and took a bite. He chewed for a moment, brows furrowed. You wished he would say something. Instead, you saw the tension in his shoulders ease just a little, and you knew you had done an good job.

And that was the end of it -- so you thought. Commander Reyes shared the churros, and everyone else remarked that they were delicious. The rest of the day carried on as usual.

Until you found yourself alone again. Even when they were on base, it wasn’t uncommon for Commander Morrison and Captain Amari to spend most of the day away from their offices. But now, even the other captains and assistants were gone, and it was totally silent.

Commander Reyes strolled into the command wing with his hands in his pockets. You didn’t think anything of it until he came right up to your desk, taking a seat on the edge.

“They were delicious,” he said, watching you intently.

So he knew it was you. He had probably had known for a while. The Blackwatch commander rarely let anything slip by him.

“Thank you, Sir,” you answered, not able to look him in the eye. “When did you figure it out?”

“You made salted caramel cookies for McCree. Cheesecake for Shimada. I need to know who is eavesdropping on my agent’s conversations.”

You flinched at that. “I only had the best intentions.” You chewed your lip. “The gifts were meant to be harmless.”

Commander Reyes chuckled. “You sure harmed Jack’s diet. The man has a sweet tooth and no spine. Put a dessert in front of him, and he can’t say no.”

“He doesn’t need to be on a diet, anyway. You’re all built like Greek gods,” you rolled your eyes. Then the reality of what you had said set in, and you were panicking in your seat. Leaving treats for your superior officers was only mildly questionable. Ogling their physiques and daydreaming about their strong arms was far less appropriate.

“I mean no disrespect, Sir,” you started to ramble. “I spoke out of line, and it wasn’t my place to say anything. Please just forget I ever opened my mouth.”

Commander Reyes laughed again, fuller this time as he leaned back on your desk. “It’s clear you’ve heard everything said in this office. You think that’s going to get you in trouble?” He was right. Conversations among the officers were far from professional. You had heard your share of inappropriate comments and spicy stories.

You looked at your hands in your lap. This was overwhelming. You were so used to being invisible. Now, the commander was confronting you, watching you closely and chatting as if it was nothing. You weren’t sure you had ever exchanged casual conversation with the Blackwatch commander.

“Why do you hide?” he asked. “Leave everything in secret and never speak up? We all know by now, anyway.”

You didn’t really have an answer for him. Maybe you didn’t feel worthy? Maybe you were shy? Neither of those explanations felt quite right.

“I never meant to hide. When I made the pie for Commander Morrison, he didn’t even seem to consider that I could have been the one to leave it. I know I’m practically invisible around here, anyway.” You shrugged. No one paid attention to a quiet linguist. Your voice was only used to relay the messages of other people.

“You’re not invisible. Not to us. We see you every day. Maybe it’s time that you let us give you a gift, what do you say? We definitely should have shown our appreciation sooner.” Commander Reyes held out his hand, eyes kinder than you had ever seen.

“I don’t- What do you mean?” you asked.

Impatient as always, the commander simply grabbed your wrist and pulled you to your feet. “I’m the boss, so you’re coming with me.” He dragged you out of the offices and towards what you recognized to be the high command quarters. You couldn’t disobey a direct order from your superior, so you stumbled along as quickly as you could.

While your apartment was in a cute little residential building on the other end of base, the high command quarters were housed in a higher security building connected to the command center via a series of secure walkways. Reyes simply keyed in a code and ushered you across the glass skyway.

“Sir, I don’t believe I have clearance to access the command living quarters,” you tried to warn him.

“You have access as Jack’s guest.” He answered as if that would explain anything. Why would you be the Strike Commander’s guest?

Commander Reyes pulled to a stop in front of a door with a mailbox outside labeled 3001. He rapped his knuckles on the metal door, tapping his foot as there was the sound of scrambling inside, and the door slid open. Agent McCree was grinning on the other side.

“You came!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you off the ground and setting you down inside what you assumed to be the Strike Commander’s quarters. “Jack and I were worried Gabe would scare you away.”

“He scared me, that’s for sure. What am I doing here?” You couldn’t keep yourself from looking around the apartment. It was nice, comfortable, with state-of-the-art appliances and plenty of space for more than one person. Much larger than your own apartment.

McCree looked offended. “You didn’t tell her anything? Did you just abduct her from her desk like some kind of madman?”

“No,” Gabe said at the exact same time you said, “Yes.”

The cowboy rolled his eyes. He took one of your hands in both of his and, with the most earnest expression, begged for your forgiveness. “The three of us wanted to say thank you for all the sweets you’ve been baking lately. Those churros were absolutely amazing, so we all pitched in to make dinner for you. Gabe was supposed to ask politely if you would join us. It would make my whole world if you did.”

You weren’t sure how you could say no to something so sweet. Agent McCree was certainly scruffy and rough around the edges at times, but you couldn’t deny he was a true gentleman, unlike his boss.

You nodded, and McCree pulled you in for another hug. “Atta girl! Jack should be back in just a moment. He had to borrow some stuff from Ana.”

Sure enough, the Strike Commander appeared just a moment late with an arm full of cookware and ingredients. He was dressed down to a faded t-shirt and his combat uniform pants with an apron. When he set everything down on the counter, you realized the apron was printed with the warning “hot stuff coming through,” and you couldn’t hide your snort of laughter.

“Ana got it for him as a gift. Jack has been our barbecue guy for the past five years now.” Reyes explained.

“I like it,” you grinned. “It’s accurate.”

You had never seen the Strike Commander blush. He fumbled with the container he was prying open. “Supper was supposed to be ready by the time you got here, but I don’t always keep cooking stuff here. We’ve got snacks and drinks, and Jesse will probably make you watch something terrible with him on the TV.”

You nodded. “Thank you for all of this, Sirs.”

“Woah, woah,” McCree held up his hands. “None of that shit around here. We do first names around here only, or embarrassing nicknames.”

You were extremely thankful for McCree- Jesse. He had a way of making you feel perfectly at ease even though you were so far out of your element. “Come on, I’m gonna show you some classic films while they cook.” He wrapped a hand around your waist and led you to the couch, flicking through the menu on the wall-sized screen. You had seen how much physical affection the high command shared, and you assumed it came from trust on the battlefield. But it seemed the comfort and intimacy extended to you as well.

“Do you need help in the kitchen?” You asked the Strike Commander.

“Absolutely not,” he winked at you. “You’ve cooked far too much for all of us, and it’s our turn to make it up to you. Your job is to keep Jesse out of the kitchen.”

The cowboy grinned at you. “They say I’m a hazard.”

You nodded. “I can see that.” Gathering all of your courage, you nestled into his side on the couch. He threw an arm around your shoulders easily and selected a movie. “What are we watching?”

“Seven Samurai. Genji showed it to me. Did you know that 1900’s cowboy movies and 1900’s samurai movies are like the same thing? He’s the only one who appreciates my Eastwood classics.”

Reyes chimed in from the kitchen. “For a bunch of assassins, it turns out my entire squadron is made up of nerds.”

“And you’re the Head Nerd. King of all Nerds.” Morrison knocked him with an elbow. “We’ve seen your Halloween costumes.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Commander Reyes is a nerd?”

“Gabe,” Jesse corrected you, “is the biggest nerd of them all. He likes musicals.”

You were smiling widely now. You had been so lonely in Zurich, and now you were being included in teasing and movies and dinner with three of the most powerful men in Overwatch.

Comman- Gabe must have finished his part of the prep work because he sprawled out on the couch on your other side. It felt so nice to be sandwiched between them as the movie played. Jesse’s fingers absently played with your hair, and Gabe’s thigh pressed against your own.

Dinner didn’t take very long at all, and the four of you sat down at Jack’s dining table. There were casseroles, baked potatoes, roasted meat, and vegetables. You made sure to put a little bit of everything on your plate.

“I wasn’t sure what your favorites are, so we made a Morrison family dinner. A taste of the American Midwest.” Jack smiled sheepishly.

“It’s great!” you loved seeing this glimpse of the Strike Commander’s home.

“Next time, I’ll have to show you how we did it in LA,” Gabe was already digging in. “Jack’s Aunt Cindy is an excellent cook, but my sister knows how to make the best tamales.”

You were already putting together a menu based on what your family used to cook. It would be so much fun to treat them to the same meals you had grown up eating.

Jesse cocked his head. “I didn’t eat much as a kid that didn’t come out of a can or a box, but Ana has showed me how to make some things over the years. We’ll have to get her to cook one night.”

The implication that this was only the first of many more nights to come, your heart felt so warm and fuzzy. You tried to hide your blush as you ate.

After finishing dinner, you attempted to help wash up and found yourself forcibly removed from the kitchen by Gabe. “Stop trying to help and just let us treat you.”

And so you found yourself back snuggled up on the couch between them as the movie finished. They were so affectionate, pulling you against them and wrapping their arms around you. It felt natural. You had been working in the same office as them for years, hearing all of their conversations and watching them care for each other. Now, instead of an invisible bystander, you were a part of the family. But you had never truly been invisible. Clearly, everyone else had always considered you as one of them.

You must have dozed off at some point because Jack gently shook you awake. “Jesse can walk you back to your place,” he pushed a container of leftovers into your hand and wrapped you in a hug. “Don’t hide so much from now on, ok?”

You nodded. “Next time, you have to let me help cook.”

#Overwatch #overwatch fanfic #jesse mccree #Jack Morrison #soldier 76 #mccree #Reaper #gabriel reyes #fluff

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