Cole cassidy

The diner door groaned as you pushed it open, the midday sun casting long shadows across the dusty floor. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. The place had the unmistakable air of neglect—cracked leather seats, an old jukebox long out of service, and the faint scent of stale coffee lingering in the air. But none of that mattered. Your gaze locked immediately on the figure slouched in the corner booth.

Cassidy. He looked the same, though a little more weathered, a little grayer at the edges. His hat was tipped low over his face, boots kicked up on the table, and a half-eaten slice of apple pie beside him. It was as if he didn’t have a care in the world—like the years of bad blood between you two had been nothing more than water under the bridge.

But for you, it wasn’t so easy to forget. Your fingers twitched toward your gun, the familiar weight of it a comfort against the unease curling in your chest. You’d been enemies for too long, his smirking face forever imprinted in your mind as a constant reminder of old betrayals and the bad decisions that led you here.

As your hand hovered near your weapon, Cassidy stirred, still not lifting his head. With a lazy precision that spoke of years of practice, he drew his revolver and pointed it directly at you. His metallic arm glinted in the sunlight filtering through the dirty windows, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes beneath the brim of his hat, you could feel the weight of his attention on you.

"Now hold on there, darlin'," he drawled, his voice lazy but sharp as a knife. "Ain't no need to be reachin' for that iron. What you’re lookin' to start ain’t worth the trouble, trust me. How ‘bout you holster that thing and join me instead? Got some damn good apple pie here—best in the county. We could talk this out, maybe sort through that mess of a history we got between us."

His revolver remained steady, though the tension in the air seemed to ease just a little as he gestured toward the seat across from him with the barrel of the gun. He finally lifted his head, and you saw that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, that cigarette dangling loosely from his lips.

"Come on now, take a seat. What’s a shootout gonna solve? You and me, we’ve been through worse. Let’s talk it out like civilized folk. Last thing I wanna do is ruin this here pie."

You hesitated but ultimately relented, sliding into the booth across from him. The leather creaked beneath you, and the smell of that pie hit you full force, making your stomach twist in ways you didn’t care to admit. Cassidy, ever the smug bastard, leaned back and took another bite of his pie, savoring it like he had all the time in the world.

"Been a long time, Sunshine," he said finally, licking a bit of filling from his thumb. "You’ve been busy, I see. But mind tellin’ me why you’re runnin’ around with Overwatch property? You know as well as I do, that’s not exactly legal. And stealing… well, that just ain’t right, now is it?"

He chuckled softly, his hand resting casually on his gun as he finally let it drop back into his holster. "Still mad ‘bout that old heist, aren’t ya? Gotta let that one go, sugar pie. Ten years is a long time to hold a grudge. I was a dumb kid back then—didn’t know right from wrong half the time. Had to leave ya there, but hell, you gotta admit, your face when you realized I was gone? Priceless. Still gets me laughin’ to this day."

The smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he leaned back further, clearly enjoying your discomfort. You glared at him, trying to find the right words, but before you could respond, Cassidy continued, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone.

"And as for names," he added, almost as an afterthought, "Cassidy’s always suited me fine. Figured it was time to stick with what’s real. Too many folks chasin’ ghosts out there."

He gave you a long, searching look, his eyes finally meeting yours, revealing a flicker of something deeper, something almost vulnerable, before the smirk returned. "But enough ‘bout old names and old wounds. How ‘bout we finish this pie before things get ugly?"

Before you could react, the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the relative peace of the diner. You ducked instinctively as glass exploded around you, bullets tearing through the air. The Deadlock gang had found you, and Cassidy didn’t even flinch as he sprang into action.

"Well, hell, I guess we’re doin’ this the hard way after all," he muttered under his breath before drawing his revolver and returning fire with unnerving accuracy.

For the next hour, the place was a war zone—chairs overturned, bullets whizzing past, shouts and chaos surrounding you. Cassidy moved with the same cocky ease he always had, firing off rounds with that infuriating grin never leaving his face. You, meanwhile, were focused on survival, taking out what gang members you could while the fight raged on.

Eventually, the gunfire slowed and then stopped altogether. The Deadlock gang was forced to retreat, leaving their dead behind, and you were left cursing the damn busted bike that failed you once again. You kicked the useless machine as Cassidy sauntered up behind you, his footsteps annoyingly casual.

"Well, well, look at that," he said with a chuckle, twirling a set of handcuffs around one finger before tossing them into your lap. "Seems like your luck’s run out, Sunshine. Shame too—we were just gettin’ to the good part of our reunion. Now, you know the drill—cuff ‘em up and follow me nice and easy. Don’t make me have to drag ya, alright?"

With gritted teeth, you snapped the cuffs on and followed him. Hours later, you found yourself in a cold cell at the Overwatch base, arms crossed as you glared at Cassidy through the bars. He sat on the other side, lounging comfortably with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the same infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

"You ready to talk now?" he asked, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Or we gonna sit here in silence all night? ‘Cause I got nowhere to be and all the time in the world, Sunshine. And trust me, I got plenty more stories if you’re up for some late-night talkin’."