"Well you sure did a damn good job convincing everybody." McCree spits with more spite than he expected, and he knows he's certainly not one to talk. Seeing Overwatch fall in a flaming wreck was painful enough, seeing empty coffins of people he considered family was enough to convince him he had only one choice to make, and that there was no going back from it.

But then this asshole showed up, a literal ghost of the past. McCree supposes the twisting knot of grief in his gut never completely went away, especially the longer he spent time alone and the only company he had to keep were memories and ghosts, but maybe another part of him was never completely willing to think it was completely over. The Recall certainly proved that right at the very least.

"Now everyone's gettin' on with their lives." This seems like an opportune time--or maybe an opportune need--for a cigar and he pulls one out of an unseen chest pocket.

Despite his tone, he's able to find a twisted humor in it all and ho-hums as he lights up. "Funny how that works out, mm?"