He reaches for his pistol without thinking, the grip of the talons on his arms making him defensive. They're out of the corner, in the middle of the room, heading to the door. But McCree isn't done here, and he isn't going anywhere with the Reaper.

"I ain't Overwatch, I ain't Blackwatch, and I ain't going anywhere with you." He growls, pulling out of his grip to try and level that pistol at him.

Gabriel Reyes is dead. McCree had buried him, and the rest of Overwatch had forgotten him. And McCree had ran, far and long, trying to avoid the memory of what he'd done. What he'd failed to do. If he had stayed, if he had stayed...

"Your truce don't apply to me, Rey- Reaper." His voice is shaking as much as his hand is. Could he even bear to bury the man a second time?