Summary:

"Are you okay McCree, why did you call?"

"Me, darlin'? I think anyone would feel better after hearing your dulcet tones." His face relaxes, smile more real now. He deliberately doesn't answer the second question.

He can almost hear the small dawn of a smile on Hanzo's face as he teases back, "If you spoke less often you might hear more of it."

From the tumblr prompt: Person B knowing they're undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out.

Ch. 1 Don't Rain on his Parade

'Well, this is ain't exactly the place I'd imagined it but I guess beggars can't be choosers.' McCree thinks sluggishly. The dumpsters hiding him from the mouth of the alleyway cast a long shadow which hug his form. He tilts his head back, wincing as the movement jostles his injuries.

After all he'd been through it was a mugger, a plain old mugger who got the drop on him.

He'd chuckle to himself if he had any energy. How pathetic.

He feels the adrenaline in his system rapidly slip away, his body no longer interested in either fight or flight. As he slides down the dumpster he fell against in a heap, a trail of blood follows.

Even in the haze of blood loss and stabbing pain in his side, he could appreciate the skill of his attacker; Not only shooting Peacekeeper out of his hands, but succeeding on sneaking up on him on the first place. Shameful really, being caught by surprise like that. No matter how seldom it happens, It only takes the once for it to stick.

'Well, I'm paying for it now at any rate.' He thinks remorsefully as he inches his hand to the pocket in his trousers.

A slightly battered phone clatters to the ground beside him.

He glares balefully at it lying just outside of his reach. He leans over, overestimating his capability to do so with an injury, and the ground rises to meet him.

Lying on the ground with a growing pain in his temple, he loses track of time.

Squinting his eyes open despite the pain he can see his phone taunting him, glinting in the low light. He stretches out an arm and pulls it to him as he heaves himself onto his back. With increasingly shallow breaths, he searches his contacts.

No one's going to find him in time for saving, better make this call count. Better not to die alone. McCree looks up at the hardly visible stars above, well physically alone but hopefully not in spirit.

His fingers find the call button and the dial tone rings mechanically, echoing in the alleyway, heralding something to come. He doesn't hold much hope in it being answered. Just when that thought crosses his mind the dial tone clicks.

"McCree." A tired voice answers.

"Hanzo, just the man I wanted to hear," McCree injects some enthusiasm he's dredged up from the the bottom of his boots, "How's it going?"

"It's 4am McCree." McCree can see Hanzo's deadpan expression in his mind's eye.

"So it is! Sure crazy how time flies, right?" He forces a grin. You can hear a smile on a voice.

"Yes," McCree can hear the confusion in that single word as Hanzo hesitates before speaking again, "Are you okay McCree, why did you call?"

"Me, darlin'? I think anyone would feel better after hearing your dulcet tones." His face relaxes, smile more real now. He deliberately doesn't answer the second question.

He can almost hear the small dawn of a smile on Hanzo's face as he teases back, "If you spoke less often you might hear more of it."

He was becoming more lightheaded with every second.

"Honey bunch, that sounds like a swell plan. Might have to get a rain check on it though."

"Why, what are you doing up at this hour?"

"Oh you know how it is, stomach gets the munchies so a walk down to the grocery store for a midnight snack seems… like a good idea." McCree finishes the sentence in a rush of breath as he closes while a flash of intense pain courses through him.

"It's unwise to venture out alone at this time of night, McCree." He can hear the worried note in Hanzo's voice.

"Aww darlin', I know I asked for a rain check but you don't have to rain on my parade."

He can hear Hanzo pause to himself, "But I'm not raining on anybodies parade."

"Don't worry yourself, s'just a saying."

"... English is a strange language." Hanzo mutters to himself. McCree's going to miss this, easy conversation. Everything is taking a dreamlike quality, feels like his thoughts are wading through water.

"Hey Hanzo," McCree's voice is soft now, breathy. Time's running out. "You know my ma always told me to live without regrets, though I have quite a few I don't want this to be one of them," He took as large a breath as he could before soldiering on, "Hanzo, do you wanna go out to dinner some time, just you and me?" If he had any energy left he would be tense, waiting for the answer.

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "I'd like that, yes." McCree closed his eyes, small grin forming.

"You can introduce me to some of your ridiculous American foods." McCree could hear Hanzo's smile at the last part.

A pained chuckle surfaces and turns into a watery cough, Hanzo takes in a breath on the other side of the line.

"That does not sound very good, are you unwell McCree? Do you need any assistance…"

"NO, no, I'm fine jus' the dust in the air getting to me. Maybe it's the cigars… anyway," McCree reigns in his panic, he's going to have to wrap this up now while he can, "I'm getting close to the base now, sorry for calling so late." He could hear a stifled yawn through the phone as he closed his eyes, hand sliding down his face slowly.

"I do not mind, this time." His voice is fading into the black, "Good night McCree."

"Night Darlin'"

The phone drops before the call cuts out.

A/N

Hello, this is the first fic I've ever written.
Really thought it would have been Harry Potter that I took the dive for but it turns out Overwatch got me first somehow.
Anyway I'm assuming you read it, hope you liked. Thanks :)