"Reaper," not Reyes. The ghost had a name and it was his own, not that of the dead man he had been.

The anguish wasn't missed, eyes narrowed behind that mask as he didn't let go of McCree, but his hold loosened enough that he could easily pull out of that grip. Not trapping him, not wanting him to feel trapped on top of whatever had him running through those doors.

Reaper's head tilted. "Why would anyone be down here."