I'm such Mchanzo trash so I decided to write another somewhat, Overwatch Alternative Universe; I couldn't resist! Also, we are fast approaching 50K, Which blows my lil' brain so thank you for all your continuous support and patience! (Requests are open!)

"Pretty handy with that bow,"

Mark, master bowman; Had joined the alliance based in Ireland to get away from his headaches and dark past and he had, well he had gotten away from his dark past which he knew at some point he would have to face it instead of running from the dark cloud which would inevitably catch up with him but that was another story for another time. He had instead, met the human version of a headache though and apparently, headaches had Irish accents and green hair. Mark knew the man was a value to their alliance, he was good with a gun but the ego inside him told him that anyone could use a gun. Perhaps that's how the ended up here, at the shooting range because Mark let his ego speak for him. Telling the Irishman he wasn't any different from any of the other members of the team because hell, the green haired mans ego could come down a peg or two.

There were moving targets as well as immobile ones, Mark spent most of his time here helping calculate his shots and target his enemies from different angles but his short time here, he hadn't scoped out were the targets came from. Jack had been here since he was a teenager, being pulled from his gang. Even if he did babble and annoy Mark with his ridiculous pick up lines and persistence, he did listen to him now and again. Parts of this mans past which he displayed were intriguing, Mark envious of how he could admit and face everything; Something Mark had yet to do. Turning his attention to the human version of a headache, he spoke.

"When you lose, does that mean you will leave me alone?" Mark asked, a smirk in his voice as he drew his bow from behind his back. Jack rolled his eyes, classic revolver in his hand. "And when I win, I get to buy you a drink." Mark narrowed his eyes. "What do you get from buying me a drink?" This time it was Jack whom wore the smirk, eyes twinkling. Mark had seen this too often, he was about to hit him with a line; one that he was unashamedly proud of no doubt.

"I get yer company of course." Mark just rolled his eyes, that was not going to happen because he would win and have peace.

;

Well, he had completely under estimated the Irishman, whom could really use a gun. His revolver had six bullets, and he managed to kill 8 enemies with them; lining them perfectly and then rolling backwards as he reloaded, Mark knew he was showing off and hated it because it was impressive. After fixing his posture and jaw, he rolled his eyes as he loaded his bow. His shots were accurately thought about, taking time to scope out the little robots who sometimes moved back and forth; His scatter arrow (his favorite) managed to knock out three of them and he hit four more, by this point the Irishman behind him had muttered a "Pretty handy with that bow," and it nearly knocked Mark of his guard. Nearly. Yet, he had lost by one point much to his dismay. He was sure he was gonna win. Of course, the ever egotistical Jack had that grin on his face. "One drink, Irishman." He sneered, a sore loser.

;

Mark should have mention that he didn't handle drink all that well and hadn't drank since he was back in his home town but he did not because, perhaps with drink burning his throat and clouding his mind; he could ask the questions he wanted to ask, get personal without a care. And he did, as soon as the first drink went down the hatch.

"So," He spoke, oddly composed.

Jack just gave a soft 'hmm' as he sipped his drink. Perhaps he could handle his drink way more, seeing as he's Irish and all.

"How do you do it? Live with all the things you have done?" It came out harsher than intended, and Jack choked on his drink a little, clearly not expecting that question. Mark wondered if maybe he shouldn't have started with that, fingers grazing the rim of his glass and circling it. Jack could have mistook that for a nervous thing but seeing as how composed the man still looked, he doubted it.

"You have too. If people can forgive and accept what I've done in the past then I should. You can't be anchored down for the rest of your life; Only so much running and now I wear it like a badge almost, saying I lived through it, I carried an umbrella and brushed off the rain." Jacks tone was soft, yet you could hear the hurt in it. The words swirled in Marks brain a little, nodding.

Another drink.

"I am envious of you," Mark muttered, still maintaining his composure, Jacks last answer still hand him stirring and he needed a distraction from the words ringing in his head like a thousand bells. Jack replied with a bout of laughter, a genuine noise in which Mark smiled slightly at but quickly returning to his usual sneer.

"Yer jealous of me!?" His accent was thicker and laced with confusion.

"How can overcome such things. Not because you can shoot." Mark smiled, dropping his sneer slightly. Jack hadn't ever seen him smile or laugh in his few months at Overwatch and his stomach knotted seeing the grin upon his face which looked too natural; why didn't the bowman smile more often?

"Careful, Archer; That was almost a compliment." Jack returned the smile, a different one from one he wore usually.

Another drink, a little more confidence; a little less care.

"Another thing, why do you have so much persistence with me? You are a flirt and I do not understand why you've latched onto me." Mark breathed, placing his glass on the table with a clink. He knew he had said "just one" but they were here now. Jack seemed to flush slightly, like it wasn't obvious how much he'd been flirting with the other man.

"You're handsome and handy with a bow I mean, what more could a guy want?" Mark rolled his eyes at that, trying to shrug off the way Jack had spoke, almost too genuine. "An' you're mysterious, I don't know much about ya and 'm curious." Jack sat back, as if he had just placed all of his cards on the table. He had.

Mark hadn't meant to place all his by the time they were outside, the alcohol in his stomach cooling; his head pounding.

"My past is too dark for me to face, I do not accept anything I have done." He uttered, clinging to the Irishman walking him home.

"Alright, darlin' watch your step." He was listening, but he was trying to stop the man from talking, from spilling too much he wasn't committed to spilling.

"I betrayed my clan back home, I betrayed my family. I killed my brother." He was on the verge of tears now, not caring if he regretted this; it plagued his mind and he had to get it off his chest, once it was said aloud perhaps he could face it.

"You hafta tell me the full story when you aren't so drunk, Mark. I don't believe you killed your brother for nothing."

He was sobbing now, into Jacks shoulder as he struggled to unlock the door. After nearly falling into his apartment, Jack lay the man onto his couch.

"I'm just gonna sleep on the floor, make sure you sleep okay." Jack spoke, his voice soft and quiet in the dark. Even after that confession, he had not changed towards Mark. Perhaps because he knew, with being pulled out of gang; baby faced and a hit on his head that things are not as black and white as they seem.

;

Mark woke, head spinning and he wore he heard sizzling. Panic rushed as he sat up immediate regret as he felt dizzy. "I thought you would be training." Mark muttered towards the small bit of green hair he could see standing at his cooker.

"Figured you'd need a hangover cure." Mark laughed at that.

"I hope I did not embarrass you too much." He sat up, much slower this time; oddly at ease. His usual sneer and grumpy exterior dropped.

"You're a sappy drunk, ya know." Mark could tell he was grinning even though the man had his back to him.

Sitting down for breakfast, Jack spoke.

"Tell me about your brother, please." So, he had brought that up last night; curse his foolishness in his drunken state. Rubbing his temples, he nodded.

"I grew up in a clan. I was always jealous of my younger brother whom had almost a free reign were as I, was molded into the heir; the perfect son who followed orders at all costs. Including, when I was sent to kill my brother. I was foolish, plagued by rules thinking it was for the best. Then, My brother came back to the castle in which we grew up. very much alive and we fought until he left into the night and I ran. I could not face my brother in such state." Mark bowed his head, not meeting Jacks gaze as tears threatened to roll down his cheek.

A hand rested on his cheek and blue eyes blazed into his.

"He told me he had forgiven me and that I must forgive myself but how can I, when my brother has a metal body and scars on his face because of me."

"Hes right. I see how much pain it causes you. You have too go find him and make up for lost time, Mark. You need to heal."

Jack said it as though he deserved to heal.

Mark nodded, turning his head to ease into the embrace. He had always sneered and drew daggers to Jack but here; he felt as though none of that mattered and that maybe, maybe he could face past.

Jack hadn't expected Mark to go away so soon, for them not to address anything and for him to be gone for so long. Yet he knew some things had to be done and Mark facing his brother after all these years was certainly one of them. Jack wished he had said something before he left though, maybe like "When you get back we're going on a date." But the cat had his tongue it seemed.

;

Six months, Ten missions before Mark had come back. The missions helped calm Jacks racing mind; gave him something to concentrate on and he was grateful. So when he was buttering toast at 8 in the morning when he heard the door open and footsteps, he nearly stabbed himself with the butter knife. Stood in the door way was Mark, in all his red headed, pierced face, glory and standing beside him, a man with long floofy looking hair stood next to him.

"Lack of coffee or are ya actually standing here with red hair?" Mark chuckled in reply and nodded.

"This is my brother; Thomas." The man, Thomas, had the same eyes as Mark and some facial features but aside from that you could not tell they were brothers. Thomas looked robotic metal plates on his legs, arms and chest, something oddly charming to Jack. Mark had explained that his brother was not whole and he assumed this is what he meant. "So, this is the Irishman you would not shut up about." Thomas smirked, extending a hand out to Jack.

Mark just waved a dismissive hand as Jack shook Thomas' hand.

;

After breakfast and Mark introducing Thomas to the rest of the alliance Mark and Jack were left alone as Thomas was shown around.

"Thank you, Irishman. You helped me conquer my scariest demons, I am eternally grateful."

Jack beamed, he hadn't realized how much he had missed Marks presence. "Nah, that's all you. I can tell how much that took; ya should be proud."

Mark starred at his feet and then looked back up again. He wished he could put into words how much that morning helped him, pulled him into light and opened his eyes. How, seeing Jack treat him no differently after he heard he was a brother killer, family betray-er; Made everything seem better.

"Do you like the new look then, Gunslinger?"

Jack nearly choked. When Mark was this close, he could see the piercings which were far from new and the brightness of his red, almost pullable, hair.

"Seems like Thomas is a good influence on you. How many piercings ya got then?"

"Perhaps I went overboard." Mark smiled, closer. The time he spent away, catching up with his brother, taking his advice; He felt fresh and realized that sneering and making off hand compliments at the Irishman would not do any good. He felt brave.

But not brave enough to make the move.

So of course Jack did it for him and suddenly they were kissing and hair was being pulled.

"Show me all of those piercings and Ill die a happy man."

Piercings shown, in many places Jack hadn't expected but was glad none the less, Mark in his bed happier than hes ever seemed well, Jack could die a very happy, happy man.

Not that he was planning on dying when he had to tell the whole alliance that he finally "seduced" Mark.