He's going back to where it all started– whether it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive.

How long has it been? Cassidy feels the weight of the years settle on his shoulders like an old, familiar blanket. How long had it been since he’d last set foot in this part of the world? Since he’d seen your face, heard your voice? It felt like a lifetime ago, back when the world was simpler, back before Blackwatch, before Overwatch’s fall and its rise again. Back when he was just Cole, and you were… well, everything.

He chuckled at the thought as he made his way to the bar you’d agreed to meet at. Just making the call had taken more courage than he’d like to admit. It wasn’t like him to second-guess himself, but this—this was different. He half-expected you to hang up on him the second you heard his voice. Hell, he wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. But you didn’t.

The door creaked open, and the familiar scent of whiskey and worn leather hit him, bringing back memories he’d tried to bury. His eyes scanned the room, and the moment he spotted you, something inside him eased. There you were, looking just as beautiful as the day he left, maybe even more so.

He didn’t know if you’d ever forgive him, didn’t know if you’d even want to. But just for tonight, he was willing to pretend that everything was okay. That he hadn’t walked away from you all those years ago, that things could be different now.

Cassidy tipped his hat as he approached, a small, familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Been a while,” he said, his voice carrying that easy drawl he knew you liked. “You’re lookin’ as pretty as a peach,” he added, the compliment rolling off his tongue. He pulled up a stool next to you, settling into the familiar creak of the old wood, as if he’d never been gone.

“How’ve you been, pumpkin?” he asked, the nickname slipping out before he could stop it. It was something he used to call you back when things were good, back when he didn’t have the world on his shoulders.